“Potter—”
*slam of a door closed* “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Snape’s estate. I’ve been helping with it. He left behind so many papers—McGonagall needed my help, and what else did I have to do? And besides—I remembered how you liked him. I thought there might be something, a keepsake, that you’d like, and then—Malfoy, I found the letters.”
“Oh. You did.”
“How could you not tell them at your trial? How could you let yourself be buried alive in here when you’re not guilty?”
“I am guilty.”
“Don’t pull this shit with me, Malfoy. I read the letters! I know you were a spy!”
“I was a spy. And I was a Death Eater.”
“What are you talking—”
“You think I wanted to serve Voldemort? You think I’m that—I’m that stupid, to sell my soul in service of that warped, disgusting remnant of humanity. Do you think I could ever have followed that twisted hypocrite, who killed people for having the same sort of blood which ran through his veins? I’m not a sycophant, I’m not anyone’s cringing lapdog. When did you ever see me completely without pride? When did I ever go crawling after people who were stronger than me or hurt me? I lead, Potter. I always have. And was never insane enough to support him.”
*softly* “God, Malfoy… why didn’t you tell me…”
“I’m not done yet. You weren’t the only one who thought the war would end with Voldemort’s death.”
“What has that got to do with—”
*quietly* “That was something, Potter. I was there. You were the hero everyone knew you were going to be. Voldemort had you both cornered, two scared helpless boys of nineteen, and then when Weasley fell… Nobody’ll ever know how you did it, will they? Maybe not even you. I don’t know what you did, I didn’t hear the spell, I could barely see you lunge forward but we could all see it was unstoppable and you did it, you did it, and I thought—and everyone thought—that it was that simple, and that beautiful, and—and over.”
*muted tones* “So did I.”
“But it wasn’t over. There was no chance of pleading the Imperius Curse now, not with the sheer bitterness and terror raised by war. The Death Eaters and everyone they loved were going to be stamped out with the utter lack of mercy showed by the righteous and enraged.”
“We had a right to—”
“Children from Death Eater families were killed, you know. They threw Pansy’s sister on the fire, said it was in her blood. She was five years old.”
“People were insane with grief. Worse had happened on the other side—”
“Don’t think that can wash you clean. Don’t think anything can wash any of us clean. I’m just telling you the truth. We were scared out of our minds—and we’d been organised into an army.”
“Don’t say ‘we.’ You weren’t one of—”
“Oh yes, I was! That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I never followed Voldemort. No. But my father took command. He was—even more unscrupulous than I can be, and he was pragmatic enough to crawl when he had to, but… I loved him. I was loyal to him. It was my family on the line, my friends, all the people I loved. And do you think I’d ever been crazy about any of your sanctimonious leaders, ever believed in your stupidity about the Muggleborn? You think I liked them any better after I had to fight them for my life? The answer is no. I gave up being a spy. I fought for the other side, I did unimaginable things, I wanted to win. I’m just what you always thought me. I was a Death Eater, all right. And I’d be one again.”
*ragged* “All of them died. It didn’t make any difference, and you’re rotting in prison now. Do you regret it?”
“Yes. And as I said, I’d do it again! They were the people I loved. I was fighting for their lives—and I was fighting for power, and what we all believed in. I made my choice. I’m paying the price.”
“All right.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not any kind of hero. They took Snape in, you know that. They had to have information. He was kind to me, he was—my secret leader, I—respected him. I think he loved me. I stood outside the gates and guarded them while he was being tortured. I heard him screaming and I was sick, but I still let it happen! I wanted to win. I was a Death Eater. It wasn’t a pretence. Do you understand?”
*shakily* “Yes.”
“You don’t want to hear more? You don’t want to hear proof? I led that squad which left Granger in a coma and her companions dead. I took the plans Snape gave me when I was his spy and I used them for the other side, and we stormed the headquarters under Rosmerta’s bar and then we bolted them all in and burned it. People burned alive screaming, and it couldn’t have happened without me, and tell me, Potter, what do you want now?”
*tightly* “I want to kill you.”
“And what do you think I want to do to you? When I think that without you, we would have won that war. My father and mother would be alive, my friends would be alive, Pansy would be alive, I wouldn’t be trapped in here like an animal in a cage… do you think I can’t look at you, and think of it all, and want you dead?”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Oh, but you do blame me. And I blame you. And we can’t ever forgive each other, there isn’t any forgiveness, and look at you, Potter, snarling and red in the face and wanting to kill me so much you can taste it, do you feel alive now?”
“Yes!”
“I thought you might. Good feeling, isn’t it? Why don’t you keep it.”
“I—God, you’re such a bastard.”
“I know.”
“It does change things. Knowing that.”
“Oh no, it doesn’t. If you’ll think about it, it doesn’t make any sense for me to have followed Voldemort. You knew me, at least a little. I can see that you did. You just never applied what you knew. You never had even an elementary grasp of logic, Potter. It’s lucky that you didn’t take Arithmancy.”
“I liked maths at school. I could have been all right at Arithmancy.”
“You could have been better at it than you were at Divination, anyway. I still say you only passed exams by using your dubious charms on Trelawney.”
“I wish you’d stop bringing up that disturbing image.”
“I’m telling you. If we’d ever taken our OWLs or NEWTs, you would’ve gotten your come-uppance. Served you right for picking such pathetic subjects.”
“Oh, like you were the master of subject choices. You seemed to adore Care of Magical Creatures.”
“I would have liked it just fine if it had been a proper class instead of a howling lunatic trying to feed me to his various blood-hungry familiars.”
“Hagrid was a great man.”
“He was… your first casualty, wasn’t he.”
“Yes.”
*lightly* “Went to the giants with his girlfriend, and when he proposed that they join Dumbledore… when he came in peace and goodwill… they tore him to pieces. Could make you despair.”
“It could. Like you said—there’s no forgiveness.”
“So what can there be?”
*pause* “How about a truce?”
*laughter* “Oh, Potter. Oh, the way your mind works. How do you do it? I never met anyone but you who cared about things more than I did. You care so much that even when you’re in despair and you think you’ve stopped caring, you care passionately about that. I was right before. You’re a secret weapon in the hands of the Dementors, and you scare me senseless. You might make even me buy in on your delusions, and start to feel like I’m not dead.”
“If I’m so scary… do you want me to leave?”
*thoughtfully* “No. No, I don’t think so.”
*pause*
“Did you love her?”
“Who?”
“Pansy.”
“Oh. Yes I did.”
*pause* “In love with her?”
“I don’t… know. I knew her for years. She was—funny, easy to be with, she loved me. I would have died for her. I know that much. We were going to get married. Everybody wanted it. But—I wasn’t faithful to her. And if you mean did she make my heart race and my dreams tangle around her and keeping her seem more necessary than breathing… no.”
”… I just wondered.” “So, Potter. A truce. You think it’s doable?” “I think it could work.” *pause* “The Cannons are second in the league, by the way.” *knock on the door* *irritably* “Could you go away?” “I’m sorry, Mr Potter, but there’s been an Owl for you. I ran all the way up from the guardhouse… It’s about Miss Granger.”