But groundless hope, like unconditional love, is the only kind worth having.
John Perry Barlow
"I think he's waking up."
"Just remember – you absolutely cannot trust him."
"I know."
"Harry, look at me."
He's in pain, but it's been dulled with potions. He tries to lift a hand to his face but finds that both hands are bound to the wall against which he is leaning.
"You cannot trust him."
"I know. Hermione, I know."
Oh, good. So it worked, then.
Draco blinks open his eyes, but it takes a while for his vision to adjust to the brightness of the room. The room smells of dust and the floor under him is hardwood. He seems to be in, he discovers as his awareness sharpens, a cleared-out sitting room.
If Draco had to hazard a guess, he'd say that he was in Grimmauld Place.
"Hello, Draco."
It's a different voice this time – higher, wispier, slightly dizzy.
"I'm sorry about tying you up, but you're very dangerous."
Luna is crouched down in front of him. Seeing her face is strange. It feels like it's been half a year.
It has, he belatedly realizes.
"Quite all right, Luna," Draco replies. "I dare say I'm rather used to being tied up in magical lockdown rooms at this point."
He gives his wrists a tug again, and finds that they're being held to the wall by two Ravenclaw ties.
"I appreciate the house loyalty, though."
"Yes," Luna answers, "I thought you might."
"It's more comfortable than rope would be," says another voice – Draco looks over and sees Hermione Granger, arms folded over her chest, "and they're Goblin silk, so they won't go tearing."
"Yes, well done," Draco says, "you've successfully tied up an unconscious teenager. I'm sure you'll look back on this fondly in your twilight years."
"How are you feeling?"
Draco looks over his other shoulder. Harry is standing a few feet away, in his ratty scarlet jumper Draco could never get him to throw away.
Draco tries to identify what exactly is twisting in his chest, and decides that it is hate. Yes, it must be hate.
He makes a face.
"I'm feeling tied up, thanks for asking," he snaps.
"You know we have to."
"The Dark Lord also tied me up," Draco says lowly. "But then, you knew that, didn't you?"
A look of intense pain passes over Harry's face, and Draco is pleased to see it. Isn't he?
"The difference," Hermione interjects, "is that everyone here cares about you and won't hurt you. We're going to take the curse off you."
"Mhm," Draco says. "Does it bother you that it's impossible?"
"No," Harry says.
"Slightly," Luna admits.
"Best of luck to you, then. I'll be over here being tied up."
"You won't find it," Luna says suddenly.
"Luna," sighs Hermione.
"What?" Luna returns, looking back at her. "You think he doesn't know that we know that he knows that we—?"
"I'm putting a preemptive stop to this sentence," Draco decides.
"We know you let yourself get captured," Harry says. "We know you're looking for the Horcrux. But it's not here."
"That is neither surprising nor detrimental to my effort," Draco says, glaring up at Harry. "None of you really know how to search, anyway."
"And you think you can find it while you're tied up?" Hermione says indignantly.
"Not only can I find it while I'm tied up," Draco answers, "I can do it in less than a week before breaking out of here entirely."
"Cocky bastard," Harry says, and there's a smile on his face that's more sadness than joy.
"Then we'll just have to break the curse before then, won't we?" says Hermione.
"What are you even doing here?" Draco asks, eyeing her. "Since when are you and Luna associated with the Order of the Phoenix?"
"We're not, strictly speaking," Luna answers. "We're part of the DA."
"Merlin's pants, how many secret enemy organizations does the Dark Lord have to deal with?" Draco asks. "And just what the hell is the DA?"
"It stands for Draco's Army," Harry says. His voice is quiet.
Draco purses his lips. "I've got my own army now, have I?"
"You always did, even when it was just me." Harry kneels down next to him. "You're not what the DA is fighting for, you're just a symbol. You're a reminder of exactly what we're up against and why it's a battle worth fighting."
Draco meets Harry's eyes. The green of them seems more impossibly intense than Draco's memory. It fills him with hatred so overpowering that it makes his heart stutter.
"We're going to get this curse off you," Harry swears. "Professor Snape has given us a lot of ideas."
"I know," Draco returns. "We were counting on him to collaborate with you to get me here."
"This is all very messy," Luna says. "Why do we pretend to have secrets when everyone knows everything?"
"So that means it comes down to who can work faster," Hermione says, bypassing Luna's comment, even though Draco thought it was a fair question, "us or you."
Draco looks up at her and meets her gaze unwaveringly. "And doesn't that just scare the hell out of you?"
Hermione lifts her chin, but the nervousness is there. Draco can see it smoldering in her eyes.
"I'm not frightened," Harry says. "I know we'll break the curse, because if we don't, that means I'll lose you again, and I'll never let that happen."
The hatred in Draco is intensifying even further, making his throat tight and his eyes burn. It's a hatred so strong it almost physically hurts to look at Harry. It must be hate. It has to be hate.
