Author: Ivy Blossom
Main Character: Draco Malfoy
Summary: Children who manage to grow up well-adjusted and healthy in spite of a terrible upbringing are known as 'Dandelion children'. In this story, Draco Malfoy befriends the trio post-Hogwarts, and comes to understand that this is the best way to understand Harry Potter.
Rec Expl.: This fic is a humbling experience for both the character and the reader, when you’ve read this – you’ll never quite be able to trust your ability to tell right for wrong. There is no white, there is no black – there are only shades of grey.
It took Draco a week to process it all. The tragedy of Harry's life, laid out before him in such frank terms, made him feel sick. He thought about all the old tropes, the stereotype of Harry Potter he's been carrying around in his head all his life, and saw all at once that it's entirely true and entirely false.
After a week he arrives on Harry's doorstep at half eleven at night. Harry is wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and his hair is sticking up all over the place. The television is on and Draco can hear a newsreader announcing Muggle events. Harry smiles and rubs the back of his neck.
"Hi," he says. "Come on in. Something wrong?"
Draco feels very nervous and very touched. Why should Harry trust him, after all. What he doesn't know could kill him. What he doesn't know is that Draco is not honest, he is not redeemed. He is a spy and the mark on his arm is not just a sad reminder. He doesn't know that Draco has been slowly engineering his way into the Ministry, garnering respect so that the other shoe can drop. He has been passing information back to the Death Eaters for years; he is the mole they have so long been trying to route out, with no success.
They would never suspect him, because in their universe a repentant man is a repentant man. They don't believe in Trojan horses anymore and Draco has proven himself. Dumbledore has put his stamp of approval on Draco and even Hermione Granger will vouch for him. Harry Potter opens his door for him in the middle of the night without fear.
"There's something I need to tell you," Draco says. "I need your help."
They could have planted Harry Potter anywhere. They could have just set him in a tent on the edge of godforsaken nowhere and he would still have turned out alright. They could have put in on the lip of a dragon's den while he was still in diapers and he would have come out just like this; certain that what he understands to be right actually is, always honest, fair, devoted, genuine, with just with a few more scars from the fire. He's like dandelions, growing up any which way, always bright and pointing toward the sun. That scar on his forehead is the only mark on him, it's the only sign that anything bad every happened to him, and even that became a triumph. Draco knows that he was right about Harry, in the end. They could wash the blood off of him and he would never cry, and it would never stain him.