All of this was wrong on so many levels. He shouldn't have done this to Potter. He shouldn't have put him in this position. Draco could have stayed away, and let Potter start over again and have his life and probably kids and he'd be happy. Except that Draco knew he was doing this for more than just knowing that Harry would always remember he loved him.
"I'll get you the list. I know I'm taking a chance being here but if they see me with an Auror, so what?" He laughed, the sound bitter and cold as he poured himself another drink, holding the bottle out to Harry. "Way I figure it, I'll be dead by years end so it's not like they're going to do any worse to me."
And it was cold saying it that way as well but what skills he'd had for playing the games of the purebloods had been lost in the last five years. Not that he'd had them much to begin with.
"Don't argue with me either. Best I can tell, unless they're hiding better than I am, there's only maybe a handful of us left that bear the mark and walked away from the order when he died," he muttered, not thinking about it as he rubbed at his arm where his long sleeve hid the mark. Giving a tug on it, he showed the very end, scarred and burned but still there. "I haven't found a way to get it off. Not yet. Still trying, but those odds aren't good. My best hope is that Father will insist they keep me around, trying to bring me back to the fold but..."
He shook his head. He wouldn't accept that. Even if he died fighting them.
"So, yeah. I'm a git for telling you, Potter, but I figured this was my last chance. Once you say I do, I didn't think you would meet with me and take the chance," he admitted, downing the shot of fire whiskey with a sad smile at Potter's admission.
"Well, glad to know it's not just me. Hate to think I spent five years pining over you for you to forget my name," he teased, trying to sound like the boy he had once been. "Earlier we were boys and then Father was putting pressure on me and I had to take the mark and..." And he hadn't wanted to drag Potter into the life he couldn't escape.
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"I'll get you the list. I know I'm taking a chance being here but if they see me with an Auror, so what?" He laughed, the sound bitter and cold as he poured himself another drink, holding the bottle out to Harry. "Way I figure it, I'll be dead by years end so it's not like they're going to do any worse to me."
And it was cold saying it that way as well but what skills he'd had for playing the games of the purebloods had been lost in the last five years. Not that he'd had them much to begin with.
"Don't argue with me either. Best I can tell, unless they're hiding better than I am, there's only maybe a handful of us left that bear the mark and walked away from the order when he died," he muttered, not thinking about it as he rubbed at his arm where his long sleeve hid the mark. Giving a tug on it, he showed the very end, scarred and burned but still there. "I haven't found a way to get it off. Not yet. Still trying, but those odds aren't good. My best hope is that Father will insist they keep me around, trying to bring me back to the fold but..."
He shook his head. He wouldn't accept that. Even if he died fighting them.
"So, yeah. I'm a git for telling you, Potter, but I figured this was my last chance. Once you say I do, I didn't think you would meet with me and take the chance," he admitted, downing the shot of fire whiskey with a sad smile at Potter's admission.
"Well, glad to know it's not just me. Hate to think I spent five years pining over you for you to forget my name," he teased, trying to sound like the boy he had once been. "Earlier we were boys and then Father was putting pressure on me and I had to take the mark and..." And he hadn't wanted to drag Potter into the life he couldn't escape.