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Chapter 4
x
"Morning, Jim, Luke," Travis said, letting them in. It was well into October and the weather was getting colder day by day. This morning when they woke up it was raining.
With the rims of their cloaks weighed down with water, they walked into the back of the store.
"Morning, Travis," Harry said, while Draco settled for a nod of greeting.
"I have saved yesterday's Prophet for you," the man informed them and pointed to a cluttered table. Harry went for it, skimmed the front page and paled.
"Travis?"
Both the apothecary and Draco looked up at the sound of his voice. He stared back, trying to gauge what the Hell it was supposed to mean. The headline read: Harry Potter – Dead?
"Is he?" Travis asked pragmatically. Draco scoffed and snitched the obligatory bag of fresh ingredients.
"Might as well be. And you'll be too if you sell him out." The boy sounded quite fierce and a man who had seen him kill without hesitation should have been intimidated. Travis, however, merely waved the threat off.
"You're earning me a lot of money, boys." It was apparent that he had guessed Draco's identity, too – it wasn't a secret that Narcissa Malfoy was allegedly distraught about her only son having gone missing. Draco had been quite vocal about that particular interview a few weeks ago. It seemed that a disappearance was about the only thing that could have made his mother take notice of him.
"Are we?" Draco asked, touching upon a fact that seemed rather insignificant to Harry. Travis smirked.
"Indeed. It seems that the potions you have been brewing since… that day… are quite more potent than the usual I am selling. I have customers asking specifically for J&L brand."
"We have a brand?" Draco asked, surprised at least as much as Harry was, but considerably faster at spotting opportunities.
"You do."
"And are we getting profits from it?"
"You are. I will make more money by selling your potions than I would make by selling you. And the likelihood of me being killed in the process is smaller."
Draco grimaced, but nodded. Apparently, a continued survival was better than a few Galleons a week more. Harry simply considered it another reason to leave the country.
"Thanks, Travis. Is there anything specific you would like us to deliver?"
"Do you think you're up to Veritaserum?"
x
Two cloaked figures with their heads pulled up sat in the summer garden of the Fortescue's under an Umbrella Spell, eating a banana Split and Strawberry Sundae respectively. They weren't truly worried that someone would recognise them, but the cloaks made people weary and they, in turn, were left alone. It worked out well for them.
"…and I thought that the day after tomorrow it might be done, so we can sell it and get another batch of ingredients. No point going there twice in two days."
"I don't know-"
"Jimmy!"
The Sundae-eating hooded figure laughed.
"But I'm going to be bored-"
"You can finish the Boil-cure potion."
"That is – what? A first year potion? I-"
"I wouldn't want to give you something too difficult for you," the first figure stated dryly before dissolving into a fit of chuckles.
"Honestly, Luke. I never thought I would see you high on sugar. I shudder to think what you would be like if I actually let you buy alcohol."
The mood suddenly froze and they both turned to their ice-creams with heavy sighs.
"It's not safe," Draco said in a small voice.
"It's not."
They finished their desserts in silence and left, walking side by side. Wearing green and red they couldn't have been mistaken for Death Eaters, nevertheless, there were many suspicious glares cast their ways.
"When are we leaving?" Draco asked once they re-entered Knockturn Alley.
"Sometime next week. I first thought we could go to France… but I don't speak French."
"I want to go to Canada," Draco decided with the self-confidence of someone who always got what they wanted.
"Why Canada?" Harry asked, holding a door open for his companion.
"Because they speak English there."
Harry was about to ask why not the United States then, but he never got the chance.
A couple of masked, black-robed men came bounding down the stairs. They attacked on sight and only Draco's reflexive reaction saved Harry from a curse that, after being redirected, blew out a chunk of the wall. Harry, protected under Draco's shielding spell, Stunned one of them and disarmed the other, who a second later fell to Draco's hex.
"Bind them. We'll leave them in Diagon and get the Hell out of here."
Harry complied without any objections, while Draco watched for any other Death Eaters who might have accompanied these. He wondered whether they should check on Travis, but decided that he didn't care enough about the man to risk it.
"Are we going up?" he asked.
They both looked into the shadows of the staircase, trying to see through them if there was anyone hidden there, waiting, lurking…
"Yes," Draco decided. Each of them Levitated one of the bodies, keeping them in front of them as human shields. It was too much to hope that a Death Eater wouldn't curse their own to get through to them, but at least there was someone to get into the way of that one initial spell.
They got up to the door of the flat without interception. The wards had been cracked, but had held through the assault and were still up and buzzing. Harry sighed, relieved, and let them in.
Draco retrieved the unfinished Veritaserum from the lab. It was highly poisonous in this stage, but likely to get the truth out of the subject. Harry didn't feel like arguing with Draco just to save two people who had tried to kill them.
"Pry his mouth open."
Harry complied again. He ripped the mask off of a face that might have belonged to some of Crabbe's relatives and stuck the blade of a knife between his teeth. Draco fed him a spoonful of the silvery-green liquid.
"Why did you come here?"
"S-sent…" the Crabbe look-alike groaned in pain and his face scrunched into an even uglier grimace. "The potion-makers… recruit potion-makers…"
Harry sighed and rubbed his face. No matter where he went, no matter what name he used, he always did something that caught the attention of the local villain.
"Who sent you?"
"The Dark Lord."
Draco cursed and vented his anger by breaking the Death Eater's nose. There was a positive side to the mess – the Dark Lord didn't really know who they were – but the negative feelings were currently prevalent.
"What are Voldemort's plans?" Harry asked, hoping that the wizard wasn't in such a bad state that he wouldn't have been able to answer.
"Hogwarts… take the school… take Ministry… rule…"
"When does he want to take Hogwarts?" Draco asked, shushing Harry, who with an over-dramatic gesture motioned him to, by all means, continue.
"All Hallows' Eve…"
"When does he want to take the Ministry?"
"By Christmas… Dumbledore out of the way… easy…" He heaved and spat several mouthfuls of blood. Harry cringed, but continued watching with his wand aimed at the bound Death Eater, just in case.
"Why does he need potion-makers?" he suggested the next question.
"W-wards… corruh…"
Harry could see the exact moment when the man died. It was weird and he reached out for Draco automatically. They laced their fingers and clasped their hands gently, taking and providing determination at the same time. It was going to be okay.
"You're going to be a hero and try to save them, aren't you?"
Harry shook himself and met Draco's black eyes.
"Save whom?" he asked simply. He definitely wasn't going to try and save any Death Eaters. He was ticked off too bad to find it in himself to be merciful or other such inanity.
"Hogwarts. Dumbledore. Your friends."
It has been a long time since Harry had felt so torn. The vision of Ron, Hermione and Ginny being slaughtered, Bellatrix Crucio-ing Neville into insanity… it was unbearable. On the other hand, he had promised Draco to go with him. He would abandon Hogwarts sooner than Draco, even regardless of the free-formed bond between them.
"So…" Draco noted with a sigh, "we're going to Hogwarts."
x
"There are weak spots," Draco concluded after they finished their third walk around the perimeter of Hogwarts wards. "Neither of us has the skill to break in, but the Dark Lord's Potions Masters undoubtedly do."
"Could we reinforce those?" Harry asked, pulling the other boy in the direction of the cave Sirius used to hide in. They have agreed to try and avoid being seen around or in Hogsmeade, and the cave at least promised a dry rock to sit on.
"Jimmy," Draco replied with exasperation, "Crabbe and Goyle would have broken through our wards in less than an hour. How long the Hell do you imagine they would withstand a Master?"
Harry, ever optimistic, imagined that maybe five minutes.
"And Dumbledore isn't doing anything…" In the three days since the anonymous warning they had sent the Headmaster, not one change on the wards was made.
"We can't stop the Dark Lord this way."
True to the Gryffindor within, Harry disregarded the 'we can't stop the Dark Lord' part and concentrated on the 'this way'.
"Is there any other way?"
Draco looked at him and replied with an openness that was uncharacteristic for him: "We can kill him." There was apparently an 'if anything at all' supposed to follow that statement, but to Harry it made more sense than Draco could have expected.
"The one with the power to kill the Dark Lord…" he muttered.
"Jimmy?"
Harry looked up. Draco was paler than usually, almost transparent. It was for a moment difficult to believe that there was actually red blood flowing under that paper-white skin, although he had seen the proof of that repeatedly.
"Yeah?"
"Is there something you should have told me but didn't?"
"Well… At first it didn't concern you. And then…" The truth was that Harry had driven it from his mind; he had deliberately forgotten about it. "The gist is… as long as I'm alive, I'm the only one who can kill him."
"Not anymore…" Draco mumbled.
"What… Why?"
Draco pulled his hand from Harry's grasp and turned away from him, angry, but not as betrayed as Harry feared he would be. It took less than a minute for the ex-Slytherin to face him again.
"Magically, we are an extension of each other." He stepped closer, seeking comfort in touch. Harry hugged him, relieved that they weren't going to fight. He felt ashamed enough as it was, and guilty for the shock Draco had just received. He should have remembered earlier. He should have thought to mention it.
"I'm sorry."
"You… wanted to escape it. I'm not surprised. I'd like to escape that, too…"
When Draco seemed able to walk on his own without tripping and breaking his neck, they separated and tacitly went to search for the cave. The way hadn't changed much in a year and half and they found the opening quickly. It was cold and dark in there, but it was also dry and easily defendable (if they didn't mind being trapped).
They set up – mediocre, as Harry bitterly thought – wards and transfigured a part of the rocky room into a moderately habitable space.
"It was a Prophecy, right?" Draco asked above a bowl of soup. "Does it say anything helpful?"
"I- well, we, I suppose, have 'a power he knows not'."
Draco contemplated that while Harry's mind replayed the next part – and either must die at the hand of the other – over and over. It was terrifying enough when he thought it meant that he and Voldemort would duel to death, but how did Draco's inclusion change that meaning? Did one of them have to die at Voldemort's hand? Or either Harry or Voldemort would die at Draco's?
"He doesn't know about the bond," Draco remarked.
Harry shuddered. No, Voldemort didn't know that. But how was it a power? He couldn't imagine using Draco as a weapon. It was unthinkable. Wrong. He would die before he let that happen… Or was that it? The motivation?
"It's likely that the bond makes us more resistant to Dark magic."
Harry gaped at Draco, baffled.
"The bond… is Dark?" Because that was what it sounded like. Light things tended to be susceptible to the Dark and the other way around – see how Quirrel burnt at his hands.
"Does it matter?"
Harry shrugged.
"No. But it matters that I know if it is."
Draco smiled at him for the first time that day, and the situation suddenly didn't seem quite as bleak.
"No. Bonds aren't Light or Dark, especially not natural ones. They just are."
"Do you have any idea…"
Draco shook his head.
"Not yet. But I'll think about it and come up with something." He held out his hand to Harry, who wordlessly followed him. The bed they transfigured was smaller than what they were used to, and Harry suspected that it was so that Draco would have a viable excuse to remain pressed up against him. It worked out for him, too.
"Goodnight, Jimmy," Draco mumbled when the Illuminare went out, kissed Harry with less passion and more… something else… than what they were used to and pretended to fall asleep instantly.
x
"I've got an idea, but you'll kill me when I tell you…" Draco said on the evening of October 30th. Harry lay back and stared at the irregular granite ceiling.
"At this point you can suggest Canada and I won't disagree."
Draco sniggered and moved close enough for Harry to feel his body heat.
"This is ways worse than Canada." He rested his head on Harry's chest and let him card his fingers through the longish raven hair. It was a deceptively peaceful setting. "I promise I don't want either of us to die… even if it might sound like it."
"Any plan that has a chance to work must be crazy," Harry replied with cynicism far beyond his years. "Just suggest something. An idea, clue, anything…" He was well aware of just how desperate he sounded, but there was no point in pretending else to Draco. Draco always could see right through him anyway.
"Okay. I think we could just follow him into the castle, keep his attention off the hostages and…"
