"Paradigm shift," Harry murmured.
Draco didn't need the phrase explained. "Yes. Epiphany, exactly. And Severus was part of it. Because..." Draco closed his eyes on a rush of pain. "I'd always admired him, always, Harry. I thought following the Dark Lord had to be the right thing to do if someone as brave and strong and intelligent as Severus Snape had made that choice. But on Samhain I watched him get on his knees, too, and I thought I'd sick up. What he was in that clearing... that wasn't the man I thought I'd known."
"You never wondered if he might be playing a part?"
"No, not once. Which meant that when he Portkeyed you out, I thought my heart would stop from the shock of it all. There I'd been so bitterly disappointed in him, wondering how he could possibly welcome the utter slavery the Dark Lord insisted on, wondering how he couldn't see that you were the only strong one in that clearing. But it was all an act." Draco's shoulders collapsed as he gave a heavy sigh.
"That's actually a good thing," Harry dryly pointed out.
Draco nodded, but didn't smile. "I know, and I wouldn't wish it otherwise, believe me. For all that, though, one part of it all bothers me." The boy raised distressed eyes, the gray reminiscent of storm clouds about to burst. "Severus was watching me follow a path he knew to be a colossal mistake, and he didn't do anything to stop me. Not one single thing."
Lacing his fingers together in an effort to stretch away the ache, Harry sighed too. "Be reasonable. What could he have done that wouldn't have placed his life in danger?"
"Yet he risked his life to save you," Draco quietly pointed out. He said it without resentment of Harry, but not without pain.
Harry thought about that. "Yes, but when he did, he didn't have to worry about me turning on him, Draco. I mean, he could trust me to protect him too, right? I'm not trying to hurt you, but you can't hide from the truth. You weren't trustworthy back then. Snape couldn't risk trying to help you when you might have run straight to your father with the news that a certain Hogwarts teacher wasn't so loyal, after all."
"I know," Draco admitted, but he hardly looked mollified.
"He does care about you," Harry insisted. "He even told me so. I care about you both, he said."
Draco twisted a lip. "Not equally. Not even close. He cares about me; I'll give him that. But you're the one he loves."
Loves? Harry couldn't help but flinch a bit. He caught himself doing it, and wondered why the word bothered him. Unable... or maybe unwilling... to complete that thought, he heard himself arguing, "He wouldn't have offered to adopt me except for the fact that we needed it for the warding. You know that!"
"The warding was nothing to do with how he felt, that's what I know," Draco retorted. "All it did was give him an opportunity he wouldn't otherwise have had. In fact, it made you get past your fear of attachments. Well, far enough to agree, at least. Personally, I think you still have some... issues accepting Severus as your father."
That was so accurate that Harry almost gaped. Maybe Draco really had learned something useful from that Muggle psychology book. Not liking the feeling that he was so transparent, Harry abruptly changed the subject. "I've often wondered what the reaction was among the Death Eaters when Snape and I vanished like that."
Draco still looked a bit glum as he detailed, "After you released all that wild magic, it was pandemonium. Voldemort had been flung flat on his back. I remember him screaming... screeching, really. My father was nearby, almost unconscious from the force of your magic striking him." Lost in memory, Draco let his voice drift off.
"What did you do, in those first few minutes after I'd gone?"
The other boy gulped. "I was ashamed of my father, all right? But I still wanted to know if he was all right. I crawled over to him, but when I got close, I saw his arm, Harry. The way he'd landed, the sleeve of his robe had fallen away from it. And there it was, his mark. It had always looked so... exciting to me before. Something to bear proudly. But then... I saw it for what it really was. Dark, ugly, burned black. A mark to make a Malfoy into a slave! I didn't want it any more, but I knew I wasn't going to have a choice! If I said no, my father would do worse to me than I'd just seen him do to you, and if after that I still resisted, he'd kill me without the slightest hesitation!"
Noticing that the other boy's fists were clenching, Harry softly reminded him, "But that won't happen now, Draco. Snape and I will keep you safe."
"Right." The word sounded thick, and Harry couldn't tell if it was with doubt or gratitude. "Anyway, when I could rip my gaze away from that awful mark, that was when I saw your wand sticking half out of his pocket. I couldn't have been more surprised than if the Dark Lord had welcomed you into the fold! That is, my father had mentioned your wand to me, but I'd assumed he'd already handed it over. I don't know if he was supposed to do it when he first presented you, and you distracted everyone with your open defiance --Merlin's balls, calling him Tom to his face!-- or if the plan was to give up your wand as some sort of ceremony after you were burned, but the fact was, my father still had it. I slid it out, smooth as I could, but my father felt it move. He tried to reach out and st-- st-- strangle me, but I scrambled away. Thank Merlin, he was too weak to try to follow. When I looked back I saw that he'd fainted, actually."
"When did it strike you," Harry wryly put in, "that with my wand, your whole story would sound a bit more believable?"
Draco's lips tightened. "The moment I saw it. But beyond that, Harry, I knew you needed that wand. Besides..." He sighed. "When I realized that you were strength and Voldemort was weakness, it was a foregone conclusion who was going to win this war. I wanted to be a part of that, instead of getting bound for life to servitude and defeat."
Harry stretched out his legs and laid his cloak to the side. His hands still hurt, but he tried to ignore that in favor of reaching some sort of understanding with Draco. "But that's what worries me," he admitted. "This obsession you have about being on the winning side. If you're with me only because you think I'll win, you might run back to Voldemort the moment it looks like he's gained the upper hand."
"He's revolting!"
Harry wasn't about to let it go at that. "Yeah, but that's not proof of much. You didn't use to like me any too well, either. Yet here you are, on my side."
Draco leaned his chin on a curled fist as he pondered that. "This time, Harry, my loyalties don't depend on who I like and who I hate. My decision's based on truth. The Dark Lord makes his followers weak, simple as that. I'd have seen it earlier if I'd ever been allowed to attend a meeting. And you... you Gryffindor..." Draco coughed to cover a slight chuckle. "You have so much pride and strength that you don't need to leach it out of others. I'm better off on your side, Harry, and I know it. That's never going to change."
A memory glimmered in Harry's mind, something Snape had said about Draco... He went about the Slytherin dormitories, banging his way into every room, announcing that the Dark Lord was weak and made his followers weak...