Sep 12 2008
Hair’s Breadth
Title: Hair’s Breadth
Author: dorrie6
Fandom Harry Potter
Pairing Harry/Draco
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and universe presented in this story belong to JK Rowling.
Note: Written for the Almost A Kiss challenge at almost_hd on LJ.
*****
Hair’s Breadth
The war started quietly. There were no armies rushing out to battle, no banners flying, no sirens in the night. Each day the Prophet reported the names of those who had disappeared from their homes or off the street, while the Ministry avoided comment. Stan Shunpike remained in Azkaban. The shops in Hogsmeade closed their doors one by one, with Diagon Alley not far behind.
For Draco, the war passed in maddening silence. The safehouse was a hideous place, just cold enough to be uncomfortable, and Professor Snape’s presence was even colder. He’d barely spoken to Draco since the night they both left Hogwarts, and the longer they remained in the safehouse, the less often he emerged from his private chambers–sometimes not for days at a time. Draco sulked and practiced curses on spiders and the occasional mouse. At first, his mother visited him every few days, but after a month’s absence, he’d finally realized she wasn’t coming back. When questioned, Professor Snape avoided his eyes, mumbling something about tightened security. Draco didn’t let himself question deeper.
Somewhere in the fifth month, Professor Snape disappeared. When he came back a week later, he seemed surprised that Draco was still there. That night a noise in the house woke Draco abruptly. It soon became clear that the noise had something to do with Harry Potter, who stood in the front hall looking at the floor. Professor Snape was not standing.
“You killed Professor Snape,” Draco said obviously.
Potter didn’t look up. “He killed Dumbledore.”
Draco stood very still. “And me?”
“You didn’t.”
Draco waited for Potter to continue. Potter did not.
“So I’m to be set free, then?” Draco asked.
“I guess.”
Draco waited again. Potter said nothing.
“You’ll just let me walk out the door?” he asked a little louder, taking a step toward the front door.
“Whatever, Malfoy.”
Draco walked to the door, stopping right in front of it. He glanced back at Potter, who was still looking at Snape’s body on the floor. He lifted his hand to hover over the doorknob. Potter didn’t move.
“This door?” he asked.
“Fine.” Potter still didn’t move.
Draco crossed his arms and stared at Potter. Nothing happened. Finally, he marched back to Potter, fists clenched tightly.
“Do you think I’m a complete idiot?”
Potter looked up and blinked. “Yes, since you ask.”
Draco’s blood rose to his cheeks. “You’re the idiot, Potter,” he said, scowling, “You think I’d walk into such an obvious trap?”
“There’s no trap,” Potter said.
Draco ignored him, walking back toward the door. “How does it work, Potter? Your friends attack me as I walk out the door?” He peered through the glass. “That’s the kind of subtlety I’d expect from a Gryffindor.”
Potter sighed. “There’s no trap, Malfoy.”
“Maybe the doorknob is a portkey.”
“Malfoy. Look.” Potter strode to the door and grabbed the doorknob. “No portkey.” He opened the door wide, walking onto the porch, letting in a rush of cold air. “No ambush.” He threw his arms wide. “No trap.” He waved. “Goodbye.” He turned and started down the steps.
Draco stood at the edge of the doorway, still reluctant to step through it. “Are you really that much of an idiot, Potter?” he called after him.
Potter kept walking.
Draco hesitated, frowning, and then finally took a deep breath and hurried through the door after Potter. There was a light coating of snow on the ground. A voice in his head that sounded annoyingly like Professor Snape suggested that this might be exceedingly foolish, but Draco pushed it back with his own. “What makes you think I won’t run right out and slaughter Granger?” he shouted. “Surely I’d seek revenge!”
Potter laughed. “You’d never touch her!”
“Of course I would!” Draco yelled.
“She’s too smart for you, Malfoy.” Even the back of Potter’s head seemed to be grinning. Draco fumed.
“What about Weasley?” he shouted, walking faster, cursing the branches that scratched his face as he struggled to push them aside.
“You’ll never touch either of them!” Potter was still ahead, moving out of the woods into what appeared to be a small clearing.
Draco started to run, panting as he shouted, “How can you be sure, Potter?”
The Snape voice came back again, and Draco took the opportunity to remind it that unlike it, he was at least still alive. Draco had nearly caught up now.
Potter laughed again. “Because they’re better than you, Malfoy. And I’m protecting them.”
Draco was right behind him. “What, like you protected your little red-haired trollop?”
Potter whirled around, eyes burning. “Don’t you ever–” He inhaled sharply. Their faces were less than an inch apart, and as Draco’s body wavered, their noses brushed. Neither of them moved away. Draco felt the warm mist of Potter’s breath on his chin. He closed his eyes against the blurred half-vision of Potter, grasping for the ability to do something, and cursing the Snape voice which had now gone silent. The woods around them were unbearably still, though Draco thought it was possible that he had lost his hearing along with his senses. The only sound in his head was his own breathing, and Draco felt his chin tilt involuntarily toward the warmth of Potter’s, just as it disappeared.
He opened his eyes. Potter was standing a foot away, face pale, mouth twisted into a sneer.
“I’m sure your mother was grateful for the protection you offered her,” Potter said. “Wasn’t she, Malfoy?”
“What do you mean?” Draco demanded. Potter didn’t answer. Draco felt sick.
“What do you mean, Potter?”
Potter’s sneer faltered. “Didn’t they–” he trailed off. “Malfoy,” he said, eyes turning soft.
“Liar!” Draco shouted and lunged toward him, landing full force on the ground, a loud *crack* hanging in the air. He let out a loud cry, over and over, and kicked the dirt until his foot was numb. The air turned colder. His hands and wrists ached as he lay sprawled in the snow.
He didn’t move for a very long time, and the sky was just turning dark when he noticed a pair of boots on the other side of the clearing. They quickly proved to be attatched to an unfamiliar Death Eater, frozen in a Full Body Bind. Draco pulled himself up, ignoring the pain in his chest, and brushed off his robes. He lifted his chin high, and strode across to him.
“I’m going to remove this curse,” he said, reaching for his wand, “and then you’re going to take me to the Dark Lord.”
This time he swore he would not fail.