Chapter 11

At first, Mr. Weasley didn't say anything. He stared at Harry with open confusion, and a hint of worry. Harry stared back with the best look of conviction and sincerity he could hope to convey.

"What, er, what brought this on?" Mr. Weasley asked. Harry saw his eyes flick towards the chair Malfoy had been in and up towards the room where he was residing.

"It's hard to explain." Harry responded. They were silent for another moment.

Mr. Weasley started tentatively. "Harry, please understand I mean well when I ask this, are you drunk?"

Harry knew exactly what he meant. His question was practically outlandish, unthinkable. To let a known Death Eater, who had only been under their care for a few short weeks, have his wand? He knew it was reckless, and quite possibly stupid, but he also had a strong feeling that he was right. And, Harry had learned to trust himself about these things more often than not.

"No, Mr. Weasley. I promise. It's just, I was talking to Malfoy just now and..."

A knowing look overtook Mr. Weasley's face. He raised his hand to signal Harry that he understood what was about to be said. "Ah, Harry. You've been spending a lot of time with Draco lately. I know you want to see the best in him, as you do with everybody. It's who you are. But, Harry." He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I think you are beginning to lose sight of the real situation. You may not see it, but he could still pose a very serious threat to us."

"I don't think that's true. Malfoy needs us to trust him, and if we do he will trust us in return. I know you think he could be a threat, I do, and I understand, but you are wrong. I have been talking to him, and been getting to know him. I used to hate Malfoy, we've never gotten along. He's always been rotten and rude, unpleasant, and a bully. But that's not who he is now. You didn't know him as well before, but surely you can see it too? I've talked to Lupin as well...not about this specifically, but I know he would agree with me. Malfoy has been through...he...he's not going back to them. Not after...his parents."

"Not right now, Harry." Mr. Weasley said, in an attempt to end the conversation. Harry considered that Mr. Weasley still might think him drunk. He certainly wasn't acting like himself.

"Just, just talk to Lupin tomorrow, before the wedding." Harry said, pleading, in a final attempt to win him over. "Mr. Weasley, he said something to be tonight, and I can't say what, but I promise you, if we allow him to have his wand the last thing he would do is use it for Dark magic."

"We'll see." Mr. Malfoy said with finality, before leaving Harry to rejoin his family.

OooOooO

The morning of the wedding was, in a word, chaos. Fleur's parents were due to arrive by 10, and it was currently a quarter after 9. Mrs. Weasley had all her children, Harry and Hermione included, doing last minute chores and tasks to ensure everything was in spotless order for their arrival. Her sharp eyes caught and quickly corrected their every mistake. There was only one thing, it seemed, that she had forgotten.

"Oh, Draco!" She said too loudly, with an edge of hysterics. "Come here quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Delacour will be here any moment. It's unlikely they would recognize you, but we simply can't take any chances."

Draco moved towards Mrs. Weasley quickly, sensing that now was not a time to cross the typically kind woman. She studied him carefully, walking around him and looking him over from head to toe, before firing off multiple charms in quick succession. When she had first raised her wand, Draco had tensed his body and shut his eyes tightly, forgetting where he was and feeling wild panic rise in his chest. Now that he felt the magic flow over him, though, he remembered where he was. It wasn't cold, dark, or painful. Instead, Mrs. Weasley's charm emitted a kind of warmth and security, a magical signature strongly reminiscent of his first step outside. He felt his hair shorten, and he could feel a small shift in some of the features of his face.

"...And we'll have to get you something more suitable to wear. I'm sure Bill has a spare set of dress robes somewhere. Or we could try and transfigure something." Draco realized that Mrs. Weasley must have been prattling the entire time. With the charm-work completed, he raised a hand to his face, felt his features, and ran his fingers through his shorter, coarser hair. Mrs. Weasley gave him a final nod of approval before turning and heading up the stairs to find him a change of clothes.

Draco looked around for a mirror, finding one above a table in the den. His face was rounder, his typically sharp features obscured by magic. His hair was short and, to his complete horror, bright red. His eyes were rounder and a lackluster blue, and an odd smattering of freckles lay on the bridge of his nose. And, while his appearance left much to be desired, he knew that he was completely unrecognizable as Draco Malfoy.

"Mrs. Weasley got you then?" A familiar, amused voice said behind him. Potter stood across the room, arms folded, leaning against the doorway, giving Draco an obvious once-over with his eyes. Smirking, he said, "Well, no one will think you could possibly be the presumed-dead Draco Malfoy, that's for sure. She's going to do me later. I passed her in the hall. She forgot to tell you that your name's going to be Arnold. And I'll be Barney, for the wedding. We're both supposed to just say we're cousins, and hope nobody calls our bluff."

"The Weasleys breed like rabbits, I doubt anyone will think twice." Draco muttered in response, bitterly. Potter frowned in response.

"That is the general idea, yes." Draco watched as Potter put his hands in his pockets, looking contemplative. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted when Granger entered the room.

"Harry, and, er...Malfoy?" She said. Draco nodded. Granger's eyes rolled over him in the same way Potter's had, Draco tensed in irritation. She shrugged and continued. "The Delacours are arriving, we need to go meet them in the front lawn." She appraised Draco once more, and, grabbing Harry's hand, headed to the lawn. Draco grudgingly followed.

The majority of the afternoon went by in a blur. Draco found himself following Mrs. Weasley's instructions without hesitation as they finished arranging the lawn for the wedding. He set up chairs carried heaping plates of food, and aided in greeting guests, all the while wondering how any of it was happening and why he didn't seem to mind. It was surreal.

During the ceremony he sat next to Potter, disguised as his cousin Barney Weasley. As expected, no one looked at either of them twice when they introduced themselves. He did think, however, that Potter's obvious doe-eyed expression towards the She-Weasel, his supposed cousin, would blow his cover.

"You should know, Barney, that most people don't look at their cousins that way." He muttered to Potter, giving a satisfied smirk when Potter blushed scarlet.

It was in the middle of the vows that something small in Draco snapped. This was Bill's wedding. Bill Weasley's wedding. The same Bill Weasley that had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback a few months prior because of Draco, who was permanently scarred because of Draco. The same Bill Weasley who had then let the same Draco sleep in his room, wear his clothes, attend his wedding...

"You should know, Arnold, that most people..."

"Piss off." Draco muttered, quickly looking down at his hands, feeling Potter shake softly with silent laughter beside him. He'd felt guilt burning his gut. He'd been so arrogant, so ignorant to his surroundings, stuck in his own head, drowning in his grief, not appreciating the sacrifices others had made for him. Others who owed him absolutely nothing. He looked up at Bill again, taking in his scarred face. He looked to Fleur, radiant in her beauty, awed by the expression of undying love she held for that face. He felt ashamed.

The ceremony flowed easily into the reception. Guests gathered around him, drinking, dancing, laughing. Draco stayed on the outskirts, worried that he would give himself away if he spoke with the wrong Weasley. Which, really, was any Weasley. Every few minutes he found his gaze drawn to Bill, smiling, talking to his family and friends, holding his wife's hand, giving her small kisses. With every glance, he felt his shame flare up again. He also found his gaze frequently wondering to the still-disguised Potter, watching as he too laughed and danced, and even spoke with some grumpy old man and batty old woman. All of it made him feel so out of place, unwelcome, and he slowly made his way father away from the crowd.

"Hello Draco Malfoy." A serene voice said from beside him. He spun around in alarm, eyes wide, and found himself looking down on a girl with wide blue eyes and waist-length blonde hair. Her expression was dreamy with a mild hint of surprise. She looked familiar, but he didn't know from where.

"I'm sorry." Draco replied, talking quickly, panic rising. He took a step back, ready to escape. "I'm sorry but you have the wrong person. My name's Arnold. Arnold Weasley."

"Is that so?" She asked, looking over his shoulder now, seeming completely unconcerned. Her body was swaying to the music with an unconscious rhythm."I guess you must be disguised like Harry. I was talking to him earlier. I'm glad you aren't dead. Everyone thinks you are."

She spoke in a matter-of-fact manner that completely contradicted her voice and expression. She looked to meet his gaze. He stared back at a loss for words.

"Don't worry," she continued. "I won't tell anyone. I'm Luna Lovegood, by the way. It's ok that you don't remember me. We met two years ago year when you captured us after our DA meeting and took us to Umbridge's office. She wasn't very nice. You weren't very nice either. But you seem nicer now."

Draco continued to stare at her. Luna Lovegood. He did remember now. She was one of those heroic morons who went with Potter to the Ministry the night his father was arrested. He expected this memory to awaken some hidden anger or resentment towards the girl, but instead he simply felt empty.

"I, er, I...how do you?" He started, but was unwilling to openly admit that he was indeed Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, just your expression," she said simply, as if anyone could figure it out. He was about to respond when she continued. "I saw you looking at Harry. You should see if he wants to dance. You haven't danced all night. Goodbye Arnold." She walked away still swaying to the music, leaving Draco completely baffled. Ask Potter to dance? He looked around, and saw Potter sitting at a table with Viktor Krum, both of them looking exceptionally surly, Potter's gaze fixed on the Weaslette. He scowled, and his eyes moved to find Bill. For the first time that night he was standing by himself, Fleur off dancing, and before Draco knew what he was doing his legs were carrying him across the lawn.

He was still a few steps away when Bill noticed him. At first, his brow was furrowed in confusion, but understanding soon dawned on his face along with a guarded expression.

"Bill?" Draco said, feeling foolish. "Er, congratulations."

"Thank you," Bill responded, sounding suspicious. Draco stood, shuffling his feet for a moment.

"I'm sorry. About...I didn't know Greyback was coming and..."

"Even without Greyback you still let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. You endangered-"

"I know!" Draco said a little too loudly. He looked up, and saw Potter's eyes on him before moving his gaze back to Bill. "I know. I just...your family has done a lot for me in the last few weeks, despite everything. I haven't properly thanked any of them. And...and I want to start with you. I am truly sorry for what I've done and..." Draco's words were cut off as a misty silver lynx appeared in the middle of the tent. The music, chatter, and laughter all stopped immediately. Bill's eyes widened as he looked frantically for his new wife and left Draco's side.

A deep voice that Draco had come to recognize emitted loudly from the patronus. "The Ministry of Magic has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

There was an additional beat of silence following the message before complete chaos broke loose. Draco stood still, suddenly frozen by fear. They were coming. They were going to get him, and torture him, and kill him. Around him people were screaming, running, disapparating, the wards had been broken. Draco still stood, wandless and defenseless, knowing he would be captured.

"Draco!" He heard his name as though from far away from his left. He slowly turned, and saw Potter's eyes wide, hand stretched out in beckoning. "Draco come on!"

He pushed his way through the crowd, stumbling, dazed, his eye's fixed on Potter's. His legs were like lead, and he willed them to move faster. He reached out his own hand, and grabbed Harry's firmly. Within the second, he felt a hook behind his navel, and his body was traveling through crushing, suffocating darkness.

AN: I feel like this chapter isn't really up to my typical standard, and for that I apologize. Hopefully you all don't feel the same. Life has been complete chaos for me over the past two months. Here I was thinking this summer would be peaceful...finally done with school, a job lined up for the fall, should be smooth sailing right? Ha. Jokes on me. I've been writing this chapter on and off for the past month, and, while I'm not totally happy with it, I thought the best thing to do would be just get something out for you, and once I get back in the flow of the story things should improve. Thanks to everyone for being patient with me, and to everyone who has been reading! All feedback is appreciated, and I'll have more out for you soon. Pinky promise!