Harry paused, allowing this new addition to his story to sink in. It had the expected effects. Hermione once again looked on the verge of tears while Ron was gaping open-mouthed, seeming unable to form any coherent sounds.
"That's why you did it then, didn't you?" Hermione asked softly as the first tears fell down her cheeks. At the moment, Ron seemed unable to do anything other then mouth the words "bloody hell" in a continuous cycle.
Harry gulped and nodded. "There's more though. There's something else I need to tell you."
"No," said Harry loudly, earning him a reproachful look from Madam Pomfrey from across the wing. "I'm sorry Professor, but how could you possibly think that I'd - no."
"This isn't a request, Harry," said Dumbledore in a far more stern tone than he'd previously been using. "If we have any chance of destroying Lord Voldemort, you must do exactly as I say. You will tell no one of this conversation. You will tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger that Snape was the one who found you in the boys' bathroom, healed Mr. Malfoy, and punished you severely. In a moment, I will leave you and fetch Professor Snape to inform Mr. Malfoy of this new turn of events. From this point forwards, the two of you are in this together." He got up to leave, patting Harry gently on the shoulder.
"Sir?" Harry said, the words catching in his throat. "Why me?"
Dumbledore was moving away from him to the doors of the hospital wing. "Because Harry, you alone possess the power to save Mr. Malfoy from his terrible fate. Your love has the power to save even your greatest enemies."
Dumbledore slipped quietly out the door, leaving Harry alone on the end of the bed deep in thought. He knew Dumbledore was never straight forward, yet he could not begin to imagine how this could play out to their advantage. Finding the Horcruxes would be difficult enough even with Dumbledore still alive and Harry had no clue even how to begin that journey. A new emotion now entered into him, one of grief that quickly melted into a quiet rage. How could Dumbledore expect him to aid in his murder with no explanation as to why or how or what Harry would need to do to defeat Voldemort after his death? He had said there were things that Harry could not begin to understand just yet, but he felt like he was owed a bit of an explanation. And then there was the question of aiding Malfoy. The thought of befriending the boy for the task of murdering the sole man that held the knowledge to defeating Voldemort was not a pleasant one. Worse still was the fact that he could not tell Ron and Hermione about this.
"Bloody hell, he actually asked you to help Malfoy murder him?" he could imagine Ron gaping. "I mean, there has to be a reason he's asking you to do this, right? Dumbledore's a loony git, that's for sure, but he usually plans ahead."
"No, I can't really imagine why," said Hermione in his head. "But Ron's right, Dumbledore usually has a method behind all his madness. It seems like an odd request, but I'd trust him, Harry. I'm sure there must be something good that'll come out of this in the end, there has to be."
As weak as this imaginary advice seemed, it soothed Harry just enough for him to fall back on the bed, exhausted, and fall asleep.
It seemed to be only minutes later when he was awakened by a sharp nudge on his side from Madam Pomfrey. She looked tired and on edge.
"Professor Snape just left Mr. Malfoy," she said, bustling about Harry in an attempt to sit him up and flatten down his hair. "He asked me to send you in to speak with him immediately." Harry felt a large lump appear in his throat that he was not able to swallow. She pointed off in the direction of Malfoy's bed on the far end of the hospital wing. "He's over there, dear. Best go over now and get this over with." Harry stood up, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. The walk to the other boy's bed was only several feet, but the journey felt like a mile. Reaching the bed, Harry pulled a chair up to the edge and sat down awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Malfoy, who was struggling to prop himself into a sitting position.
"Potter," he groaned tiredly. "Thanks for the near death experience. As if you don't already make my life difficult enough."
Harry thought back to what Dumbledore had said about the threat that Malfoy was facing at the moment, and decided to bite back a retort.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, finally looking into Malfoy's somber eyes. "I might hate you, but I didn't want to kill you." For the first time, Harry felt a kind of sympathy as he looked at the other boy.
"I know why you're here," said Malfoy, breaking the eye contact to look down at his hand below the sheets. "You're supposed to help me kill your precious Dumbledore. And I don't trust you, never mind what Professor Snape says."
"I'll swear to it. I promise." said Harry, regretting the words as soon as they spilled from his mouth. Malfoy arched his eyebrows in surprise.
"Really?" he breathed. "You'd make the Unbreakable Vow?"
It was too late to back down now. He'd promised Dumbledore he would aid Malfoy, and it appeared that this might be the only way to gain his trust. Harry tried to push down the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea as he nodded his head.
"Really, Potter, I'm surprised," he sneered, grabbing his wand from the bedside table. "Take my hand then, if you insist." He held his right hand out to Harry. Grudgingly, Harry clasped his hand in his own. "Scared, Potter?" he jeered, as he waved his wand and thin tendrils of smoke wrapped themselves in intricate knots around their hands.
"I wouldn't act so full of yourself, Malfoy," Harry retorted. "After all, you need my help if you want to see your Mummy and Daddy again at the end of the school year." He could see him wince at this jab, yet his hand did not break away from Harry's grip.
"Do you, Harry Potter, promise to aid Draco Malfoy in his mission to kill Professor Dumbledore?" Malfoy asked.
Harry faltered. "I - I do." The smoke pulsed orange like a flame. His fate was sealed. Malfoy's eyes widened.
"And do you promise to help him to the fullest of your abilities, even if that means putting your own life on the line?"
"I do."
The smoke pulsed once more and burned sharply into their hands. Both boys looked at each other coldly.
"Well Potter, I guess we're in this together now," Malfoy said, slowly pulling his hand loose. Harry rubbed his wrist, pretending to ignore this comment.
"You made the Unbreakable Vow?" Ron stuttered. "With Draco Malfoy? Harry, that's like the most powerful bond you can make with someone, and you make it with Draco Malfoy?"
"Oh, be quiet Ron," Hermione scolded. "He only did it because that's the only way he could earn his trust, right Harry?"
"Yeah," he nodded. In the nights since they had made their vow months ago, Harry could still feel the tingling where the tendrils of magic had burned themselves into his skin.
"So you made the Vow, and then you plotted Dumbledore's death with the foul git?" Ron asked, sounding utterly appalled.
"Don't you dare pin this on me!" Harry snapped, Ron's words still stinging the raw wound. "Dumbledore made me promise to help Malfoy kill him; it was literally his dying request. After all Dumbledore had done that year to prepare me for finding the Horcruxes, he wouldn't just die without putting everything in place. This has to fit into his plan somehow, that's the only way I could reason. His death must be a necessary event for me to be able to defeat Voldemort in the end."
"So all those nights you left Hermione and I in the Common Room saying you were looking for Malfoy...?" Ron asked, sounding wounded.
"I was really helping him, yeah," said Harry, feeling his words plunge into his friends like knives.
