Disclaimer: I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment.

Consequences of Oaths

Draco paced.

It wasn't the thing with Dobby that bothered him. He was glad that Dobby had been freed. It had been upsetting enough when the house elf had started to go insane, but his father's attempts to cure Dobby's irregularities had been terrifying. With Dobby gone, at least all of that would cease. So it wasn't that. Or only a little, because he didn't like that his father had been tricked and embarrassed.

No, what disturbed him was the glimpse his father had had of something made up to look like the True Sword. His father had mentioned it in an oh-so-casual way in his letters. He'd not recognised it when he'd seen it, apparently, but on returning home he had done some research and it bore an uncanny resemblance. Of course if it had been the real thing, there would have been no question about recognising it. His father, like Draco himself, like every Malfoy male born on British soil, was oath-sworn. His father suggested they be subtle about the matter, but Draco couldn't let it go that easily. If Potter was running around with some false sword – and wouldn't that be just like the prat? – then Draco wanted to know immediately, so that the blasphemy could be properly punished. And while his father might think Dumbledore was behind it, but he knew who the real culprit was.

He made his way to breakfast, his thoughts crystallising as he bumped into the prat himself in the middle of the Great Hall.

"Potter! Word is you've been waving around a sword. Your wand not good enough for you any more? Why don't you show it to us, then?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Oh? You won't let us see? Is that because you're a dirty liar..." Draco trailed off as a glow swirled around Potter's hand. Seconds later, it was holding an engraved sword. The weapon was obviously expensive, obviously deadly, and, as close as he was to it, obviously magical. Draco sunk to his knees, not taking his eyes off it.

"Scared now, Malfoy? Cowardly cat."

Draco could only just make out the words through the buzzing in his ears. His vision was starting to black out around the edges. He'd been instructed, and he'd read every book on the matter that he could lay his hands on, but he'd always assumed something like this was an impossible dream. "I... that is, this one humbly apologises for the offence this one has given Your Potency. This one offers-"

Draco was startled out of his dedication by a sharp clap. He jerked as if drenched in cold water and looked towards the source of the interruption.

Dumbledore was half smiling. "Very good, boys, but I think this joke has gone on long enough now, don't you? Drop the illusion and return to your tables."

Potter's—His Potency's hand wavered.

"Mentally tell the sword you're done with it," whispered Draco, and then almost cringed when he realised he'd spoken so casually. The sword disappeared. With its overwhelming presence gone, Draco could rise to his feet and back away a few steps. His Potency turned and walked away, so Draco was able to take his seat just after without being obvious about having waited for him.

Greengrass was staring at him in horrified disbelief. "You joined in a prank with Potter? About that?"

"About what?" asked Zabini.

"About the ever holy Caledfwlch. Something that should most definitely be off-limits for pranks! Malfoy, I can't—"

"It wasn't a prank. It was the real thing. Potter really is the True Holder. Couldn't you feel it?"

"I felt something, but..." A shieldmaiden's oaths were different, he'd heard. She might react more strongly to the bow, if His Potency chose to draw that.

"Well I didn't feel anything," said Zabini.

"You haven't taken the oaths," said Greengrass irritably.

"Of course not. Bloody ridiculous tradition. Pretending you're all swordbrothers isn't going to convince anyone your family is actually old enough to have served the True Holder."

Draco spoke softly, still feeling the effects of the sword in his soul. "The previous True Holder. The current one is sitting across the hall from us right this minute."

"If you really think that then why did you just let Dumbledore shoo you away?"

"If His Potency does not wish the public to know of His status, then it is not my place to interfere."

"What if it's Dumbledore who doesn't want people to know?"

"He wouldn't go against the wishes of the True Holder like that," said Greengrass, sounding doubtful.

"Why not? The Dumbledores don't swear the Swordbrother Oath either."

"Quiet!" said one of the prefects. "We will not discuss this matter in public again, is that understood? Malfoy, I'm surprised at you. You should know better."

Draco nodded jerkily, not protesting his infallibility the way he usually would have. He had more important things to worry about.

It was a sleepless and uncomfortable night. He hadn't written to his father yet, and that was bad, because someone (more than a few someones, probably) would have written to their parents about what had happened and he needed to get his side of the story in first. The problem was that he didn't know what his side of the story should be. Because it really was the True Sword that Harry Potter had called to himself, and he really was sure. But his father hadn't been. The only possible way his father could have failed to identify it as being the real thing was if his father was not a Swordbrother.

He thought back to the oath swearing ceremony. It had been mystical and uncomfortable in the way that only the deepest rituals could be. He had spent a full day of fasting followed by a full night of kneeling in vigil, protecting the ritual space from any unfriendly magic. Then at dawn, he had spoken the words of the oath, was struck across the face hard enough to draw blood, and then fed a magic infused honey cake. Even as a child, Draco knew you had to mean it, and he had wanted to. He had offered the pain in his legs, the hunger in his belly and the blood on his lips to the Magic of Britain as proof of his sincerity. He had been unsettled at the time that there was no external sign as to whether the oath had been accepted, but his instructors had laughed off his concern. Now for the first time, he realised their humour had been because they had never expected him to be sincere in the first place. It was meant to have been, as Zabini had so crudely pointed out, simply a way for his family to appear more strongly committed to Britain than they actually were.

It was painful to realise that his father had been faking it all this time and that all the talk about the duty that the Malfoy's had to protect Britain from the unworthy was just talk. Almost as painful as it was to realise that Britain's chosen one, the first in centuries, the True Holder, was that git Potter. It was no wonder the Dark Lord had failed to kill him as a baby, really. Britain herself would have stepped in to protect him. Malfoy swore at that new realisation, and didn't even feel guilty about the muggle profanity. The Dark Lord had tried to kill the True Holder. That was proof incontestable that the Dark Lord had not been acting to save magical Britain. The Dark Lord was not their only possible saviour from this slow descent into muggleness. It was not Draco's duty to assist the Dark Lord. It was Draco's duty to fight him.

At first light, after a frantic search of his trunk, Draco composed a letter – but not one to his father.

To Harry James Potter, Most Noble Potency, greetings.

I apologise if I overstep my place in communicating with Your Potency thus uninvited. If it is Your wish that I cease, I will naturally obey. However, the possibility was raised that Headmaster Dumbledore has chosen for his own reasons not to inform You of the meaning and consequences of calling the True Sword. I enclose a book on the matter, which, while not being entirely accurate, is a fair overview of the rights and responsibilities of the True Holder and his Swordbrothers and Shieldmaidens. It is a duty that overrides even that of family. You might prefer to purchase Your own copy or even other books if You doubt my motives in telling You, but I would ask you to seriously consider the rituals that allow You to call Your circle together, and the oaths that can enforce truthfulness at said convocations.

Most Humbly, Draco Lucius Malfoy

The True Holder might be in need of guidance, and he might be the only person in any position to him. He could not rely on Dumbledore of all people to do the right thing. Draco contemplated the imminent remaking of the entire Wizarding World if Potter initiated a convocation. Well, at least it wasn't going to be boring.

Author's notes: Because there seriously aren't enough sword fics in the fandom