#former enemies

THE SCREAM I SCRAM

The Drarry conversation that belongs to know fic, I just felt a compulsion to write it. May expand if I find a plot or if people ask for it.

Period: Eighth Year @ Hogwarts

Relationship: Former Enemies, now? Unknown. 

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“You were a product of your surroundings. Someone forced into a situation because, if you didn’t, you and those you care about wouldn’t survive. We’re more alike than you think.” spoke Harry, in that soft timber that Draco was becoming more familiar with these days. He stared out along the courtyard, bundled in his robes and scarf, nose turning a shade a pink. 

Draco snorted, bitterly, “Yes, I’m constantly told how similar I am to the Wizarding World’s Saviour.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I think you’ve been huffing too much broom polish.” Harry looked at him from the corner of his eye and simply shook his head. 

“Before the prophecy, I was just a boy with a loving wizard family. That’s all I was going to be.” He hesitated, kicking a stone where his leg dangled over the stone wall. “It’s all I was supposed to be… People believe the prophecy predicted my success.” The tones of his voice jumped in a mocking tone around the last word, quoting it from somewhere. Harry turned to look Draco in the eyes, “It’s all bollocks, honestly. Did you know that I wasn’t the only possibility? Neville fit the criteria as much as I did.” 

Draco’s eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open. Longbottom? The Saviour? Sure he stabbed that bloody snake but the saviour? 

“Dumbledore and the others…” Harry trailed off, conflicted emotions flickered across his face as he looked away, “Their decision that it was about me - that’s what set the prophecy in motion, not the other way around.” He wrangled his hands around in his lap, “Granted, there’s no saying my parents would’ve survived if Voldemort ignored the prophecy. The First War would’ve continued, they’d still be in the Order… the Prophecy just… expedited their deaths, I guess.” His eyes squinted, like he was envisioning the words that he wanted to say and was pushing them out. He probably was. Whilst Potter may, somehow, be a leader, that doesn’t mean he’s as eloquent as one may think. 

Harry spoke quietly, his voice croaking gently, “I like to have the hope, though. The wonder of what could’ve been, what life I would’ve had if they lived.” Draco watched the etches in Harry’s features, the frowning eyes but the small smile. He recognised it in himself. 

“The wonder of what would’ve happened if Longbottom was the Saviour, instead?” Draco spoke with measured words, despite it making no sense. He’s never bothered to make bold remarks surrounding Harry and his family in the past. Never thought he’d be about to start, either. 

Harry nodded softly, “Yeah… yeah. Hm,” he huffs out a bitter laugh, “I’m not as heroic or saintly as everyone likes to think.”