Installment III

Not many people can honestly apologize.

Not many people can apologize at all.

There always seems to be some sort of resentment, or pride left over. Apologizing wholeheartedly takes a lot more out of someone than most people think. If the deed was great, at least.

After stealing a cookie before dinner and being caught by Mum, you apologize. But you still are happy with snitching it. It doesn't matter to you that you did a bad thing.

Although, if she gives you the chance to confess and you deny being guilty, it changes. You feel worse.

And the stakes rise if you are caught.

Instead of a minor scolding, because of the unconvincing lie, you are subjected to a longer lecture.

But what if she gives you another chance to put yourself in the clear? You might shamefully admit to both of the crimes. But no, instead you're afraid of can how she'll punish you, and you lie again.

Even if she can smell the chocolate in your breath, you continue to lie to her.

Eventually she gives up trying. And she can say that she gave you the chance to prove yourself, but instead you made yourself look like a fool.

It was only there, crouching behind that pile of rubble, that I let myself remember how Dumbledore had offered to take me in.

How could I keep blaming my wrong choices on my parents, when I was clearly at fault? They were only the instigators of my path down the wrong road.

Sure, my father always told me how our pureblood family was superior to those of Muggle descent, but that didn't mean I should have spewed insults at Granger at every opportunity.

My hands shook with anger at myself for being such an ignorant prat.

For two years I had been shunting the memory of Dumbledore attempting to aid me out of my mind; my fear of having made the wrong decision haunted me.

But one thing that kept me insistent that I was right – Why would Dumbledore try to help me, me, after I had spent my entire year trying to kill him in vain?

He was bluffing.

He never had faith in me, and rightly so.

Potter, on the other hand… Even his wrong choices seemed to be right.

Saving me from the fire for example; he shouldn't have. He really shouldn't have. But he did. Because he's the hero, and it was the right thing to do.

I'm not saying he had the easy life, of course not. Even I'm not dumb enough to think that.

Sure, I'd created that illusion in my head for about six years – but after actually seeing him fighting… There was no way I could trick myself into thinking that anymore.

There were nights – such as the on after Potter's visit to my lovely home – where I imagined what could have happened if I had only swallowed my pride, and joined Dumbledore on the edge of that tower.

Those were restless nights.

After about maybe twenty minutes of sitting, there came the recognizable sound of footsteps on marble, accompanied my light murmurs. Soon, Potter and his friends were visible again. I went back to my crouching position, just in case they looked my way.

Weasley stumbled down the last step and into the broken gargoyle, who moaned. Granger tightened her grip on his hand, and gave him a scolding look.

Potter was walking a bit slower than his friends. About a quarter of the way down the hall, he was a few paces behind.

I started to stand up to reveal myself to him, but decided it was too risky and crouched back down. It didn't wind up mattering, however, as I had taken a step getting up, and my foot landed on a chunk of stone. It seemed to make a whole lot of noise in the silent hallway.

Maybe that was just me, as Weasley and Granger kept walking. Potter only tilted his head slightly, and turned back for a fraction of a second before regrouping with his friends.

He nudged Weasley. "Hey. You two go back to your family in the Great Hall. I'll catch up with you." My stomach lurched. Had he seen me?

Did I want him to see me?

After giving Potter a weird look but seeming to understand not to question him, Weasley led Granger out of sight.

Potter just stood there, facing away from me. After a moment, he turned to the wall, and started examining an empty portrait.

What was so interesting about it? I wondered, watching him study the backdrop closely. It was only as he was slowly walking to the next frame that it clicked.

I stood up, which proved difficult after squatting for so long. Potter was looking determinedly in the opposite direction.

Now or never.

"Th… Thank you," I mumbled, barely louder than a whisper, the words catching in my throat.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to think of what else I could say that wouldn't sound arrogant.

Apart from the fact that he had stiffened a considerable amount, and had stopped pretending to be fascinated by the portraits, Potter showed no sign of hearing me. I took a deep breath and walked up next to him. He didn't acknowledge my presence.

"P-Potter?" I said softly, never looking up from the floor. His eyes flicked toward me for a second, and then back to the wall. Somehow I was grateful of this. "I just… You didn't have to save me from Crabbe's – " My voice cracked as I remembered my friend. Potter actually turned his head to face me.

"You didn't have to save me from that fire," I tried again, "but you did. It would've been better for you to let me and Goyle fall, but you turned back for me. Why?"

Potter thought for a moment. "I don't really know. I thought you would have changed, I guess."

"Changed..."

He grew a bit more hostile. "Changed, as in maybe, you would have helped the cause, and not just gone to cry to your Mum."

"My Mum, is the reason you're alive, Potter," I sneered, but regretted it.

"Well you know Malfoy, if you really –" I held up a hand to stop him.

I leaned against the wall, and let myself slide down as I buried my face in my hands.

Potter leaned over me, and looked surprised when he saw how red my face had gotten.

"Potter, I –" My eyes welled up. "I don't know… I can't… I'm sorry. For everything." I stood back up as I figured out what I had been trying to say. "I feel like a prat, I know I've always been one." I paused, so he could agree if he wanted to. But Potter just looked at me sideways, trying to figure me out. "But it's too late to prove myself now. I'm not going to be like my father, like a coward, and pretend all of this wasn't my own doing. It was."

"He would have killed you." Potter looked at me, full on.

"Yes, but – "

"He would have killed your family."

"But – "

"You were trying to be brave."

"No, I was just being stupid – "

"MALFOY! Listen to me," Potter yelled, wiping his forehead. He reached out a hand as if to put it on my shoulder, but retreated instantly. "You were a prat when you were younger. So was my dad. So was Snape. So were a lot of brilliant witches and wizards."

"POTTER. LISTEN TO ME. I AM NOT – " I insisted.

"NO, YOU'RE NOT. But you CAN be." I opened my mouth to speak again, but he shut me down. "It's not completely your fault. Voldemort has – had – that effect on people! You're being too hard on yourself."

"No, I'm not! All of those things I said to you, and Weasley, and Granger, and Longbottom, and every other person I thought was beneath me – " Why wasn't he letting me take the fall for my actions? I DESERVE what I'm getting.

"You've changed since then! Have you ever REALLY wanted to be a Death Eater? Once you truly found out what it meant? Did you ever REALLY want to murder Muggle-borns?" Potter inquired.

As I thought about it, the weight that had been clutching at my chest for the past year vanished. "No… No, I didn't…"

Potter sighed, and then grinned. "I knew you were all talk."

I tried to smile, but more than likely it turned into a grimace.

"It's okay. All of those things. But it's not just me you need to apologize to."

My heart sank. Why did I have to be a monster to so many people…?

Harry set a hand on my shoulder before walking away. "Trust me. They'll feel so much better, if they just get an apology."

I nodded slowly in his direction, and felt a weak smile falter on my face.

I was going to change the Malfoy name. Forever.

A/N: GUYS GUYS GUYS THIS IS THE FIRST STORY I HAVE EVER FINISHED!

*Le proud*

Anyway, thanks for reading, and for those of you that reviewed, whether it was on the site or on my Snape page, I love you, and your support gives me the warm fuzzies and made me finish :)

If you haven't reviewed yet, you should. So do that now. *POKE POKE*

Do it again if you already have! It's a party!

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