The Bond of Brothers
A/N: Just want to note that I'm playing off a few canon events in this chapter. This is the last bit of canon that will be remotely recognizable.
Thank you all, my wonderful reviewers!
Chapter Six
It was well past curfew, the many darkened halls of Hogwarts filled only with the quiet sounds of sleeping portraits, yet three people were currently roaming the castle. The first, and the only person who was supposed to be walking the corridors, was Filch accompanied by his faithful Mrs. Norris. The second was Draco Malfoy who'd snuck out of the Slytherin dorms and was cautiously making his way to an unknown location. The third was Harry Potter, hidden expertly beneath his invisibility cloak, creeping silently and quickly with the intent to spy on the wayward Slytherin.
Over the past week, Harry had taken to using the Marauder's Map to check up on Malfoy. He was growing increasingly frustrated that he'd yet to discover even a hint of what the Slytherin's task for Voldemort was, and he'd hoped using the Map would give him some clues to Malfoy's intentions. Yet, so far, the Map had only provided further mystery.
Somehow, every night, Malfoy was leaving Hogwarts. Or at least, that was the only explanation Harry could come up with as to why the Slytherin simply disappeared from the Map each night.
Harry had tried to catch him in the act of leaving the castle, but between quidditch, homework, and his friends looking over his shoulder, he hadn't been able to constantly keep an eye on the Map. But tonight was different. His friends had all gone off to bed early in anticipation for the first Hogsmeade trip the next day, and he'd been able to sit in his dorm with the curtains drawn, watching the Map uninterrupted. He'd been ready, invisibility cloak in hand, and as soon as he saw Malfoy leaving the Slytherin dorms, he raced to catch him.
Now, he was only one floor away from having the blond in his sights. At first, he'd rushed towards the Entrance Hall, thinking that to be Malfoy's most likely destination, but had quickly found himself racing back up the way he'd come. With each floor higher he climbed, his curiosity and confusion grew, his desire to discover the Slytherin's secret burning in his chest and making his feet carrying him faster. As he climbed the last steps up to the sixth floor, he glanced down at the old parchment in his hand, noting Malfoy was only two corridors away. He made to run, but a noise from behind him froze him in place. Hesitantly, he turned his head and cursed silently at what he saw.
It was Mrs. Norris, her yellow gaze impervious to his invisibility cloak.
In his haste to catch Malfoy, he'd completely forgotten to keep track of the caretaker's movements. Only now did he hear the wheezy breathing and uneven steps that heralded the near arrival of Filch. Instantly, Harry pressed himself up to the nearest wall, trying to make himself as thin as possible, breathing only slightly. The next second, Filch appeared around a corner on the steps, red in the face, looking like he'd been chasing something. Chasing his cat, Harry realized, who'd in turn been chasing him.
"What is it, my sweet?" the caretaker panted, darting his beady eyes all around. He came further up the steps, stopping so close that Harry could smell his rotten breath. "Students out of bed?" Filch asked hopefully.
After a tense minute, Filch relaxed and bent to pick up Mrs. Norris. The cat gave an irritated meow, flicking her tail in Harry's direction, but her old owner didn't seem to notice. "Must have been a mouse, eh my sweet?" he cooed kindly, the sound making Harry slightly sick. And with that, the caretaker turned back around, presumably headed off to his office, Mrs. Norris held firmly in his arms.
Once Harry was sure Filch was far enough away, he allowed himself to breath freely. Stepping away from the wall, he quickly started off down the corridor again, checking the Map as he went. Scanning the nearby area, he came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening in disbelief.
Malfoy was gone.
Angrily, Harry scoured every inch of the castle, but the Slytherin was nowhere to be found. He growled in frustration. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes that he'd been held up by Filch, and Malfoy had been in the middle of the castle. It was impossible for him to have gotten out of the school and off the grounds so quickly.
He stayed there for another ten minutes, just watching and waiting, but he eventually gave up on the futile effort. Malfoy was long gone, and the opportunity to discover what he was doing was lost, at least for the time being. Besides, it had to be well past two in the morning, and he'd promised to meet Ginny before breakfast. Temporarily defeated, he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, determined to try again tomorrow.
000
"Something wrong, Harry?"
The question startled him out his thoughts, and he turned to look at her. "What?"
Ginny frowned, her warm eyes concerned. "You seem a little distracted this morning."
"Sorry," Harry apologized, forcing his thoughts into the present. "Didn't sleep well."
"Bad dreams?"
"Something of the sort," he sidestepped. "But let's talk about something else."
Ginny didn't look convinced, but granted his request, changing the subject to a letter she'd gotten from her mum yesterday. Harry listened as she talked, taking the chance to admire the way her hair fell around her face, and the way her cheeks turned pink in the cold October morning breeze. Nothing had happened between them since that night at the Burrow where they'd nearly kissed, but Harry couldn't deny that he'd grown closer to her over the last two months. It was easier to forget about Malfoy and his mother's past and the prophecy when he was with her. She had that effect on him; that as long as she was there beside him, nothing else really mattered.
As they walked side by side into the small wizarding village, Harry let his frustrations and worries settle in the back of his mind, focusing instead on enjoying the day, if for nothing else but to make Ginny happy. They spent the morning flitting in and out of shops, looking at every random and strange thing they could find. He even started truly laughing and smiling before long. And by the time they entered the Three Broomsticks to meet Ron and Hermione for a late lunch, Harry found himself holding Ginny's hand tightly in his own, unaware as to when he'd first taken it.
Ron and Hermione had already found a table towards the back, and they wound their way through the crowd of Hogwarts students to reach them. As they took their seats, Harry noticed his friend's face growing to match the shade of his hair, his eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.
"What's with you and my sister?" Ron asked menacingly, which earned him a jab in the ribs courtesy of Hermione's elbow.
Harry immediately disentangled his fingers from Ginny's. "Nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing," challenged Ron.
"Leave him alone, Ron!" Ginny huffed. "We're just friends."
"How daft do you think I am?" Ron spluttered, but before a full blown Weasley argument could erupt, Hermione intervened, loudly asking Harry to go get them all some butterbeers, to which he was more than happy to oblige.
He returned to the table five minutes later, four butterbeers in hand. The girls were caught up in a conversation about a pair of dress robes Hermione had seen that morning while Ron sat frowning with his arms crossed. However, after Harry asked how the Chudley Cannons were doing this season, Ron's anger rapidly disappeared as they fell into the familiar territory of quidditch.
When the four of them finally left the Three Broomsticks to head back to the castle, it was nearing time for dinner, the setting sun taking the warmth with it. Harry cast a warming charm on Ginny when she started to shiver half way back to the castle, earning him a glare from Ron, but the trip passed rather pleasantly otherwise. Harry couldn't help thinking that today had been almost perfect. It'd been so long since he'd let himself relax. He'd forgotten how nice it was to simply spend time with his friends and have fun, to act his age. He wondered briefly if this was how everyday would've been without Voldemort, but quickly pushed the thought away. It only made things worse to dwell on what might have been.
As they neared the last bend before reaching the school gates, raised voices suddenly followed by an ear piercing scream echoed from up ahead, and Harry's light heartedness vanished. Reacting on instinct, he raced ahead, the others following close behind. They rounded the curve with their wands drawn and ready, but none were prepared for the ghastly sight that meant them. A girl, who Harry recognized after a moment as Katie Bell, was suspended in midair, her face a mask of pain and terror, while another girl with her back to them watched on.
"Ron, help me get her down!" Harry shouted, pulling his friend forward. They rushed to Katie, and together, managed to grab hold of her flailing feet and pull her back to earth. By the time they had her back on the ground, Hermione and Ginny had caught up with them, the former moving over to the other girl who was now in a fit of hysterics while the latter knelt to help hold Katie's withering limbs.
Harry was vaguely aware of Hermione asking the crying girl what had happened, but it was hard to concentrate over Katie's horrified screams. Casting his eyes about for any hints as to what was happening, his eyes alighted on a ripped brown paper package, an ornate looking necklace spilling out onto the ground from the torn wrapping. The necklace sent a jolt of cold through him, black magic practically oozing from it, and he knew it was to blame. Why had Katie had something so dark? He wanted to ask the other girl where it had come from, but he held his tongue. Right now, the more pressing matter was stopping whatever curse or spell was hurting Katie.
He turned to look towards the castle, hoping they were close enough to the school that a professor had happened to hearing Katie's bloodcurdling screams. But there was only one person anywhere near them, and he had his back to them, walking quickly away from them towards the castle. As he watched, the person glanced nervously over his shoulder, revealing the pale face of Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin caught his gaze, then took off running towards the castle.
Fury burst to life in Harry's veins, turning his blood hot. He didn't know why or how, but he was certain this was Malfoy's doing, that this had something to do with his task for Voldemort. Cursing colorfully, Harry stood and sprinted after the retreating Slytherin, leaving his friends to take care of Katie, ignoring their calls for him to stop.
As he chased after Malfoy, Harry wasn't sure who he was angrier with – Malfoy for being a Death Eater, for hurting Katie, or himself for not trying harder to stop him, for trusting Snape and Mrs. Malfoy… for believing, however slightly, that Malfoy could change.
Red. All he could see was red. Red blood. There was just so much of it. It was everywhere. It was dying the floor, splattered on the wall, staining his torn shirt, spilling out of his shredded chest.
No, not his chest, not his blood, it was Draco's. The blond haired boy was twitching and jerking, moaning as his heart kept pumping the very life out of him. He could do nothing, his legs like pillars of stone, heavy and unmovable.
Vaguely, in some distant part of his brain that was still functioning, he heard a loud bang followed by a strangled sort of shout. A black figure swooped into view, its dark body blocking out some of the red.
"Potter? Potter!" He heard the figure shout, and jolted as he remembered that was his name. "What happened?"
He attempted to answer, but he found he couldn't recall. His eyes darted around the dingy bathroom as if seeing it for the first time. How had he got here?
"Argh!" a furious growl echoed off the tiled walls. "Follow me, Potter. Quickly!" the figure barked at him, and he found himself obeying automatically, limbs that had previously been frozen coming back to life.
In a numb state of confusion, he raced through the corridors, following in the shadow of the black figure that was carrying something in his arms… something that was dripping blood onto the floor. Not something, someone, he realized. Draco - the boy who was dying.
They burst into a room with white walls and tidy beds. A woman came running to meet them. Madam Pomfrey, his mind provided. Together, she and the figure maneuvered the still bleeding boy onto one of the tidy beds. She instantly started to wave her wand over his severely wounded body while the figure rushed to a cabinet, bringing back several bottles filled with some kind of potion.
He sat down on the bed next to Draco's, barely able to keep up with what was being said and done, and not yet understanding what had happened. Only small snippets were able to break through his hazy consciousness.
"Potter… duel."
"…lost too much…"
"Too late… potion won't work…"
"It will… won't let him die."
"Pulse is stronger…"
Suddenly, the black figure bore down on him, a long fingered hand wrapping tightly around his arm. "What happened, Potter?" a menacing voice snarled. "Where did you learn that spell?"
He looked up into obsidian eyes, and a dam broke. His shocked stupor ripped away and clarity entered his thoughts once again. His memories of the last hour came rushing back, squeezing the air out of his lungs.
"I… will he be okay?" he whispered desperately.
"He will live," Snape, for that was who the black figure was, answered tersely. "Now, I will not ask again. Tell me what happened."
Harry swallowed, his throat dry, tongue scratching the roof of his mouth like sandpaper. "I followed him," he said weakly.
"Why?"
"I thought he cursed Katie. I was angry."
"So you attacked him?"
"No, he attacked me first."
"Where did you learn that spell?"
"What spell?"
"The one that nearly cost Draco his life, you idiotic child!"
"Oh… it was in his book."
"Whose?"
"The Half Blood Prince."
Snape jerked away, a strange noise sounding from his throat, his black eyes widening before narrowing to slits. Harry knew he should be wondering why that name drew such a reaction from the Potions Master, but he found that all he could focus on was the bed next to his. With a mix of horror and relief, he watched Draco's chest shallowly rise and fall. His blood ran cold as he fully understood what had just occurred.
He had almost killed someone.
His stomach twisted and he felt like being sick. Shaking, he dropped his head into his hands, sucking in a deep breath. He'd been so angry, furious even, that he had wanted to hurt Draco. He thought there was still hope for him, that maybe he hadn't made his choice yet, that maybe he could still be turned to the light. But when he saw Katie, screaming under the effects of dark magic, he'd known instantly that he was wrong. He'd raced after the Slytherin, finally cornering him in the girls' lavatory.
"Katie was innocent!"
"I didn't mean for her to get hurt!"
"Then why did you do it?"
"Don't you see, Potter? It's the only way!"
Harry flinched at the remembered exchange between him and Draco. He'd seen how hurt and afraid the Slytherin was, but he'd been too caught up to care. Then, the blond had unexpectedly thrown a crucio his way, and he'd reacted on instinct, firing back with a spell he knew absolutely nothing about. He wished he'd listened to Ginny and burned the blasted book. She was right, it had only led to regret.
A flurry of movement managed to distract him, and he glanced over at Snape as the man swept over to the Hospital wing's fireplace. With a burst of green, he thrust his head into the magical flames. Dread started to creep in on his thoughts, thinking the professor must be speaking to Dumbledore. What would the headmaster say when he learned the light's savior was hardly better than a Death Eater?
The conversation was evidently brief, as Snape moved away from the grate after less than a minute. He stepped hastily aside, keeping his eyes on the now orange fire, waiting. A moment later, the flames flashed emerald, and Harry steeled himself to face the disappointment he was sure would be written on Dumbledore's wise face. However, the person who stepped gracefully out into the Hospital was most certainly not the aged Headmaster.
It was Narcissa Malfoy.
Harry's eyes widened in shock as he took in the woman he'd not seen since that day in Diagon Alley, to whom he'd made a promise to help her son. His stomach clenched, and, strangely, he found he was more afraid of facing her than Dumbledore.
Narcissa, however, didn't appear to see him, eyes glued to the limp body of her son. Her grey eyes, so like Draco's, were raw with worry, her face devoid of color. Forgoing her normal decorum, she ran forward, her sharps heels clattering across the floor, and collapsed against the side of her son's bed. She scooped up his lifeless hand, bringing it lovingly to her lips, kissing his fingers tenderly.
"Draco," she whispered brokenly. "My son, I'm here. I'm here."
Silently, Snape approached the distraught mother and placed a spidery hand on her shoulder. "He's going to be alright, Narcissa. We were able to stop the bleeding and administer the blood replenishing potion in time," he spoke in a voice that could almost be considered comforting, and Harry looked at him strangely. He'd never heard the Professor speak with anything less of a sneer. It was disconcerting to see him this way, as if he actually might care about someone else's feelings.
Nodding, Narcissa asked, "When will he wake up?"
"Hard to say," Snape answered, still in that same, soothing tone. "His body has gone through quite a shock. It could be a few minutes or a few days."
She gripped Draco's hand tighter at that, and Snape quickly added, "He is strong."
"Yes, yes he is," she agreed, reaching a hand out to brush a stray blond hair off his face.
The room lapsed into silence, each second that passed making Harry's discomfort grow. He wanted nothing more than to leave, to get away from the awful consequences of his actions, but fear kept him in place. He didn't want to do anything to draw attention to him, having been temporarily forgotten by Snape, and not even noticed by Narcissa. So, he stayed still on his bed, stuck, hoping for a distraction that would allow him to slip away unnoticed.
Unfortunately, the distraction that came in the next instant eliminated all hope of an inconspicuous escape.
"Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey's voice rang through the Hospital wing, and Narcissa's head instantly snapped up to look at him. "Lay back in that bed and stay there until I can check you over, young man," she ordered him briskly as she exited her office, carrying several small bottles of salve. Harry cringed, determinedly keeping his eyes down as he leaned back against the pillow.
"I'm fine," he mumbled in a weak attempt to protest, but was soundly ignored.
"Mrs. Malfoy?" Pomfrey exclaimed in surprise as she came close enough to notice the woman still kneeling by the side of Draco's bed. "I wasn't aware that you'd been contacted already," she said, narrowing her eyes as she glanced to Snape.
"I took the liberty," Snape answered coolly.
"I see," Pomfrey muttered, unscrewing the lid of one of the bottles. "You alerted Dumbledore as well, then?" she asked, applying a clear salve to the halfway healed cuts across Draco's chest.
Snape shifted, drawing himself up to his full, intimidating height. "The Headmaster does not need to be troubled with this."
The nurse straightened immediately, a look of indignation on her face. "What? A student almost died, Severus! And he should be alerted that a parent is at Hogwarts!"
"There are special circumstance," Snape began icily, but was interrupted.
"Special circumstances?" Pomfrey all but hollered, her voice several notches higher. "All I know is that I have two boys in my infirmary, one severely injured and one in shock, and it is my professional duty to alert the Headmaster."
Harry watched the argument cautiously, wondering what exactly Snape meant by 'special circumstances'. Did it have something to do with the mysterious task Draco was supposed to accomplish?
"Please, Poppy," a soft voice stopped his thoughts, and his eyes turned to Narcissa who had pulled herself to her feet. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her face an open mask of worry and concern.
Pomfrey stilled, staring at the other woman, searching. Finally, her expression softened slightly, a part of her empathizing with the distraught mother, though her eyes stayed firm. "I will not tell him tonight, but in the morning he will have to be notified of Mr. Malfoy's condition."
Narcissa smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Poppy." She cleared her throat, and then continued carefully, "Would it be okay if we had some privacy?"
Hesitating a moment, Pomfrey gave a dip of her head. "Of course. I will need to reapply the salve in an hour," she replied, turning around to examine Harry instead.
"Harry, too." Narcissa's voice drifted over them, causing both Harry and Pomfrey to stiffen, one in annoyance and the other in trepidation.
Harry looked up the nurse he usually hoped not to see, fervently wishing she wouldn't leave him alone. Pomfrey, however, merely clicked her tongue before walking to her office, muttering under her breath something along the lines of 'damn special circumstances my arse'.
He stared after her as she loudly snapped her office door shut, unable to believe that the hovering nurse had actually abandoned him. His heart sped up in his chest, his eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at the only other people in the wing. He didn't know why Narcissa would want to speak with him without Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore, but he was sure he would not like whatever she had to say. After all, he'd almost killed her only son after promising to help him. Not to mention that he was still the one responsible for putting her husband in Azkaban.
"I'm sorry!" he blurted out, surprising himself, not having meant to speak. "I didn't know what the spell would do… I didn't mean… I never would have used it if I'd known!" he stammered, fumbling to find words to make up for what he'd done, but knowing none ever could.
A soft touch on his arm startled him, and he jerked in surprise.
"Harry," a gentle voice soothed him. "Harry, it's okay."
His eyes flew up to meet the stormy grey belonging to Narcissa. She had come around to stand between his and Draco's beds, her face containing more sadness than he thought possible. Vaguely, he realized her hand was still on his arm, but he made no move to pull away.
"I tried to help him," he struggled to explain. "And I thought maybe he might've listened. But then Katie was cursed, and I knew it was him." Narcissa glanced over her shoulder at Snape when he mentioned Katie, but quickly brought her attention back to him. "I was so upset, but I never meant to hurt him like that! You have to believe me," he finished mournfully, wanting to make her understand.
She smiled sadly at him, grasping his hand with both of hers in a manner eerily similar to how she'd held her son's only moments before.
"I believe you, Harry." Relief poured into him at the sincerity in her words, but she wasn't done yet. "And I don't blame you. This, tonight, wasn't your fault."
Harry blinked. "But I was the one who cast the spell."
"I know. However, I should have never let it come to this." A faraway look fell over her eyes for a brief moment before it vanished. "Everything that's happened has been my fault, Harry. It's time I put an end to it."
Snape strode over to her with a calculating expression. "I'm not sure this is the best place or time, Narcissa. Perhaps we should…"
"No, Severus, I should have done this years ago. After the events of tonight, I simply cannot go on."
"What are you talking about?" Harry questioned. Both Narcissa and Snape turned to gaze at him, and he shrunk back, starting to think that he'd be better off in ignorance.
"Harry," Narcissa began, her voice measured, her hands tightening their grip on his. "You know that Lily was my closest friend," she waited for him to nod, then continued. "We had a secret, Lily, James, and I, one that I've held close to my heart for all these years, too afraid to share it with anyone. I realize now, that this was a mistake… but I can't take back the past, no matter how much I wish I could." She paused, breathing shakily.
Her next words made his heart freeze, his blood running cold. "That secret was about you."
"Me?" he whispered numbly. "What about me?"
Narcissa seemed to quiver in distress, tears threatening to spill over, but before she could gather enough strength to answer him, the doors to the Hospital Wing flung open with a bang. Pomfrey immediately stuck her head out of her office, and, upon catching sight of the figure at the entrance, called out in relief, "Albus! Thank Merlin you're here!"
Dumbledore strode purposefully towards the small group, and Narcissa hastily dropped Harry's hand, trying to compose herself in the Headmaster's presence. His blue eyes held no trace of a twinkle as they flicked between the prone form of Draco, Harry's wide eyes, and the stiff Potions Master before finally settling on the woman who should not have been there.
"Mrs. Malfoy, it is not the custom for students' parents to arrive unannounced," he told her, keeping his tone light though his meaning was clear.
Snape stepped forward, saving Narcissa from answering. "I felt it prudent given her son's critical condition."
Dumbledore turned his gaze to the black robed professor. "Yet you did not feel it necessary to contact me?"
"I did not wish to distract you from your inquires on the earlier attack on Ms. Bell," Snape told the Headmaster without blinking an eye.
"I see," the aged wizard replied, voice betraying nothing of his thoughts on the excuse. "What is Mr. Malfoy's condition, Poppy?" he asked of the nurse.
"He is stable," she answered promptly. "Severus brought him here just in time to reverse the blood loss. He'll tire easily for the next week or two, but there should be no lasting effects."
"Very good. Well then, Mrs. Malfoy, as your son is no longer in danger, I must ask you to leave the school grounds."
Wringing her hands, Harry could a see a desperate fire spark to life in Narcissa. "Surely I can stay until he wakes, Headmaster."
"These are dark times, Mrs. Malfoy, as I'm sure you're aware. I cannot make allowances."
Narcissa deflated. "May I at least have a moment to say goodbye?" she asked, eyes darting nearly imperceptibly to Harry.
"Yes, of course," Dumbledore permitted. "We shall give you a few moments in private." He turned to Snape. "Severus, if you would escort Mr. Potter back to Gryffindor tower. I believe he's had enough for one night."
"No!" Narcissa's sharp cry startled Harry.
Dumbledore eyed her from behind his glasses. "Was there something else, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"I'm sorry," she apologized, struggling to keep her tone under control. "I only meant to ask if Harry could stay."
Something dark flashed in Dumbledore's eyes before he answered, "I see no reason for Mr. Potter to remain here. I believe it would be best for him to return to his dormitory."
"Actually, sir," Harry spoke up for the first time since Dumbledore had entered the Hospital. He couldn't leave, not when Narcissa had just been about to tell him a secret that only she and his parents had known. He didn't know when he'd get another chance to talk to her again. "I want to stay."
"Never mind that," Pomfrey cut in. "The boy is in shock, Albus, I must insist that he stay overnight so I can keep an eye on him." Her words fell on deaf ears.
"Come, Harry, I'm sure your friends are wondering where you are." Dumbledore motioned, sweeping out his arm, something almost urgent in his movements.
"But… I…" Harry stammered, unwilling to do as he was told. Quickly, he tried to think of any excuse that would allow him to stay, but one was supplied for him from the last person in the room he expected.
"I must concur with Madam Pomfrey, Headmaster. It would not be prudent to remove Potter from medical observation," said Snape, his face impassive.
"Now, now," Dumbledore again brushed off the protests. "There's nothing wrong that a good nights rest in one's own bed won't cure. Let's go, Harry, I'll escort you there myself."
Helplessly, Harry turned to Narcissa, his hope rapidly dwindling, only to find that she was not paying him any attention. Instead, her grey eyes were focused pointedly on the Headmaster, a strange expression on her features that he couldn't quite place. Slowly, she walked around the edge of his bed, approaching Dumbledore.
"Why are you uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Harry in my presence?" she asked him, an icy edge to her words.
Tension descended over the room at her question. Dumbledore meant her gaze evenly, all traces of softness gone from his eyes.
"Given who your husband is, I would think the answer obvious," he responded in kind.
She scoffed. "You're a smart man, Dumbledore. You know exactly where my loyalties lie. No, you're afraid," here, she paused, twisted triumph darkening her face.
"You know."
Mind still foggy from the after effects of shock, Harry was unsure of what exactly Narcissa was accusing Dumbledore of knowing. However, if the way the Headmaster seemed to crumble was any indication, it was clear the aged wizard needed no further clarification.
"I don't know what you speak of, Mrs. Malfoy, but-"
"She told you, didn't she? It's the only way you could know," she cut across him.
Dumbledore hesitated only a moment before sighing in defeat, conceding with a quiet, "Yes, yes she did."
Snape's dark eyes widened at the confession, but showed no other outward signs of surprise while Pomfrey looked as confused as Harry felt. Narcissa, however, appeared to inflate with rage, all the color draining quickly from her face.
"How long have you known?" she practically shrieked, reminding Harry of a raging snowstorm.
Dumbledore deflated further. "She wrote me a letter only days before she died."
A horrible laugh echoed around the high vaulted room. "Fifteen years?" Narcissa spat. "You've kept him from me for over fifteen years? How dare you!"
"I did what was necessary to keep him safe," the Headmaster answered, but even he looked unconvinced of the sincerity of his words.
"Safe?" Narcissa's voice went higher than Harry thought possible. "He faced the Dark Lord when he was eleven years old! He's nearly died on more than one occasion, been kidnapped, had people murdered in front of him! How can you even presume to call that keeping him safe?"
All doubt that they were speaking about him was blown away, but this knowledge did nothing other than add more confusion to his troubled thoughts. Harry was sure that this had something to do with the secret she'd been about to tell him, but why would she accuse the Headmaster of keeping him from her? Had his mother wanted him to go to Narcissa if anything happened to his parents, just as she'd wanted his parents to take her son? He glanced briefly over at Draco wondering what his life would have been like growing up with the Slytherin instead of Dudley. He was surprised to find, however, that the blond was no longer unconscious. His grey eyes, so like his mother's, were open, blinking slowly as he looked first at his mother and Dumbledore, and then to him. His eyes held his silent question.
Harry shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, wordlessly telling Draco that he had no idea what was going on. Draco struggled up into a semi-sitting position, his mouth contorted in pain, but he kept silent. Both boys turned their attention back to the arguing adults, none of whom had noticed their quick exchange.
"I can't believe this!" Narcissa continued ranting. "All these years I was afraid to come forward, and you knew the entire time… and now you are trying to keep the truth from him! Why, Dumbledore? Why do you not want him to know who he is?"
"What do you mean, who I am?" Harry couldn't stop himself from saying, although neither Narcissa or Dumbledore heard him. He knew who he was; the whole bloody wizarding world knew he was. Something cold and heavy began to form in his stomach. He was getting a very bad feeling about what exactly Narcissa was implying.
"I have only done what I deemed to be right. So much rests on his shoulders already, I did not wish to burden him further," Dumbledore finally defended himself, his voice quiet yet firm.
"It was not your decision to make!"
"I was the only one left to make it."
A loud slap echoed through the stunned room as Narcissa's hand connected solidly with the side of Dumbledore's face. "Don't you dare," her voice was deadly soft. "You cannot imagine what I gave up all those years ago, what I've endured every day since to keep him safe, to protect them both."
Dumbledore nodded, unfazed in the face of her anger. "I have only done the same as you, Mrs. Malfoy. I have protected him to the best of my abilities."
"And what about tonight, Dumbledore? Where was your protection?" Harry exchanged and uncomfortable look with Draco as the argument turned towards the duel that had brought them to this moment.
"What happened tonight between Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy was an unfortunate accident-"
"An unfortunate accident? Is that what you call it? Harry very nearly killed Draco in the unfortunate accident. He almost killed his own brother!"
Silence followed Narcissa's shouted exclamation; the only sound her heavy breathing, her chest heaving with rage. Harry froze, his ears ringing. He must have heard wrong, he concluded. She hadn't just called Draco his… brother. It just wasn't possible. He had to have heard wrong.
"What did you say?" he heard himself ask although he was unaware of his mouth moving.
Narcissa spun to face him, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes went wide, and Harry's heart took off in his chest. Her reaction was all the confirmation he needed. He pressed himself up against the back of his bed, his whole body screaming in protest at the truth staring at him. She took a tentative step towards him, a hand outstretched, but he flinched away.
"No, stay back," he snapped, trying to squash the panic growing in his chest.
"Harry," Narcissa spoke, her voice vulnerable, eyes shining with something that looked suspiciously like love. "I didn't want you to find out this way."
"Find out what?" he asked, his voice several notches higher. A voice whispered in his ear that he already knew the answer, but he ignored it. It couldn't be what he was thinking; it was too ridiculous, too outlandish.
"The secret I was going to tell you," she said, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek. She breathed in shakily, gathering her strength before whispering, "I know this will be hard for you to hear, Harry, but Lily and James… they weren't your true parents."
"No! You're lying!" Harry shouted, his eyes darting to Dumbledore. "She's lying!" But the old Headmaster merely shook his head, his blue eyes dim behind his half moon spectacles.
"Lily and James loved you like their own, Harry," Narcissa rushed to assure him, but each word she spoke only made his heart beat harder. "And I know they'd be so proud of you… but Lily couldn't have children."
"No, no, no," Harry muttered under his breath, not wanting to hear what Narcissa said next but unable to move, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.
"Harry," Narcissa closed the distant between them, snatching his hand up. Her lower lip trembled as she gazed at him, her eyes bursting with raw emotion. "You're my son… I'm your mother."
"NO!" Harry shouted, regaining the use of his body as he flung himself away from this woman claiming to be his mother, who was looking at him with such love in her eyes that he couldn't stand it. He fell to the floor on the other side of the bed and quickly scrambled to his feet. "I don't believe you!"
"Harry," Narcissa spoke his name brokenly, tears falling uncontrollably from her eyes as she collapsed on his empty bed, her legs unable to support her. He knew it was his reaction that was causing her pain, but he couldn't bring himself to care. If what she said was true, than his entire life was a lie. Everything he'd ever been told, the people he'd spent his life dreaming of and trying to make proud, weren't even his parents.
He looked desperately around the room, searching for someone to tell him that this was all just some sick joke. Dumbledore simply gazed sorrowfully at him, while Pomfrey looked back and forth between the sobbing Narcissa and him, trying to decide which she should go to first. But it was Snape's expression of pity in his normally hard eyes that crushed his last shred of hope that this was all just a nightmare.
Without meaning to, he suddenly found himself meeting the wide, disbelieving eyes of Draco, the boy he'd almost killed tonight, his school enemy… his supposed brother. He tore his eyes away, unable to stand it.
He fled, sprinting out of the Hospital Wing and away from those haunted grey eyes.
000
End Chapter Six.
Well, again, I should stop making allusions as to when I'll update again, as I obviously never seem to stick to them! Apologies.
The whole reveal scene was the first thing I rewrote from the old version, and I'm still not entirely happy with it. It's one of those things were I've got it pictured perfectly in my head, but can't seem to write it just right. Also, having read dozens of other stories with similar situations, it's hard to find an original voice to put to it. Anyways, let me know your thoughts!
Also, I purposefully left out conversations with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's concern over the HBP book and Harry's obsession with it because I didn't want to just rehash things from canon, so hopefully the fact that those concerns were still present was understood.
Review, please and thank you : )
