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CHAPTER 21: Draco's Decision

Charlie's eyes narrowed. "You called that dragon here, didn't you, Malfoy?"

"Of course I didn't!" snapped Draco. "Haven't you been listening to a word I've said?"

"It stopped roaring the second it got close enough to really see you, didn't it? That means you have some sort of power over it that you aren't telling us."

"I can assure you that I don't, or I wouldn't still be stuck down here with the pair of you!"

"And you honestly expect us to believe that somebody invited you?" Charlie glared at him from golden-brown eyes that were almost the same color as Ginny's, Draco thought. "Who? And why?"

Draco's tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his mouth. If he told Charlie Weasley that his sister had invited himself to Yule dinner, he really thought that he might end up getting fed to the dragon face-first. But that wasn't the only reason why he couldn't seem to say the words. He still had no way of knowing how Ginny really felt about him, so how could he tell her furious older brother?

Fred sighed and stepped between them. "I can't believe I'm going to do this… Charlie, he was invited, never mind who did it, and he really didn't bring the dragon. It showed up during Lughnasa dinner, remember how I told you? And Malfoy certainly wasn't here then."

Charlie blinked. "Well… I suppose… but still…look, I don't care if he lured it here or not! Either way, he can leave right now. We don't need you; we'll get rid of the dragon on our own—so get out of here, Malfoy."

The renewed roar behind them seemed to give the lie to their words. Fred looked alarmed. "Uh, bro, I'm not so sure about that. It's not a good sign that the dragon isn't responding to any of your spells, right? We need to come up with some other plans." He turned to Draco. "Look, just be honest with us, if you even know what that idea means. Tell us if you think you know anything that might help us out here."

"Insulting me isn't normally the best method of obtaining my help," Draco said through gritted teeth. Yet it had not been lost on him that the dragon had given another roar only after Charlie had taken a distinctly threatening attitude towards him. Perhaps he really could cast some sort of spell or charm to control this dragon, unlikely as it seemed. "But for the sake of—well, never mind whom—I'll tell you. It's at least possible that I could help, and if you give me a minute to think, I might be able to come up with something. The Blood-Bond spell worked, after all."

"I suppose you're right about that," Fred said reluctantly.

"You really trust him to help us?" Charlie demanded.

"Uh…" Fred looked uncertain. "Look, I just don't see what choice we have! The dragon stopped roaring as soon as it poked a bit of its head out and actually saw him, and then it started again when you looked like you were going to pound him into the floor. It seems to be responding to him, Hecate knows why. That's a good sign, right?"

"Probably because it expects him to order him to attack," Charlie said darkly.

"Charlie, do you really think I wanted to accept Draco Malfoy at the Yule dinner table?" demanded Fred. "I'd rather throw him in the same pit as all the gnomes Dad tossed over the fence last year! But even I know when enough is enough."

A strange expression crossed Charlie Weasley's face. "Any choice at all is better than trusting him."

"Believe me, I've thought that as well. And maybe we could hold out if was only you and me, but that dragon can go after everyone else when it's done with us," retorted Fred. "Bro, we've got to accept his help." He grimaced. "Ugh. If I can say that, then why can't you do the same?"

"Fred, you just don't know what the Malfoys have always been…" muttered Charlie.

A thought struck Draco. Had Molly Weasley let some hints slip to the older children in the family? And if so, what exactly did she know about the Malfoys in the first place?

The dragon stirred ominously in the background.

Draco took a deep breath. He knew very well that Ginny would never have remained with him for six months if she didn't believe that he had changed. And he had done that. Three years had passed since the last battle of Hogwarts; four since the events of that awful year when he had been forced to do the Dark Lord's bidding. He had grown beyond the cruel, sad boy he had once been. Now he needed to prove it, first by what he refrained from doing. He wouldn't draw his wand and hex them all. He wouldn't storm away, hurling curses on all the Weasleys and vowing that if all of them except for Ginny ended up eaten by a dragon, it would be better than they deserved.

In a way, of course, he had nowhere to go. The Malfoy social circle had fallen apart. The upper crust of the purebloods were gutted, half of them dead or in Azkaban. But it was more than that. He needed to find a way of his own, a new way, a radically different one, and he wanted to find it with Ginny. There was no hope of that outcome at all if he didn't prove to her brothers that he had changed. So the time had come to make a choice. Thank all the gods that Bill Weasley isn't here, at least.

"You won't be getting rid of me that easily," he said, stepping between the two brothers and standing his ground. "I'm here to help you, whether you like it or not."

"Come on, Charlie. I think he really could help us, or at least he's our only chance. I mean… he is the one who got you here." Fred sounded very much as if each word represented a tooth being pulled.

Charlie grimaced. "I suppose I see your point, bro." He looked at Draco, his expression truculent. "So you really think you can do something with that dragon?"

"I don't know yet," Draco said quite honestly. "We're going to need to clear the fog first, so that I know exactly what I'm dealing with. I'm flying blind, and I've got to be able to see."

"I'll do that." Charlie raised his wand. "Cuius evidentiam."

The fog around them thinned. The distant walls, wherever they actually were, still remained obscured. But the dragon was suddenly visible, standing shockingly close to Draco. His mouth dropped open.

He was staring at Orion, the dragon that belonged to the Malfoy estate. The same dragon who had roared and stamped and growled at him during that unfortunate dragon-taming incident on his ninth birthday.

His mind ran around and around as frantically as a rat on a treadmill. Now what? None of his attempts to calm Orion had worked on that long-ago day. Were they all simply doomed? Should he try to run for it and let the Weasleys fend for themselves.

If Orion eats those two, he thought in a cold, calculating moment, then I'll have enough time to get out of here and find the others… nobody will ever know exactly what happened, after all.

But then Ginny's face rose in front of him, with the expression he most loved to see, gentle, warm, and unguarded. The face that believed in him. The one he had seen leaning over him in the early morning when she thought he was still asleep, when he was watching her from under his lashes, loving this stolen look at the tender parts of Ginny Weasley. This face was the one he l…

Did he dare to even think that word?

Whether he did or not, he could not bear to think of the look of disappointment that face would wear if Ginny knew that he had not even tried to save her brothers. And she'll know, all right, he thought. Ginny always sees through my deceptions more easily than anyone else in the world.

Ignoring Fred and Charlie's furious whispers in the background, most of which seemed to consist of synonyms for the word coward, he stepped forward. He raised his arms, and he spoke the words that had been such a miserable failure when he'd said them to this dragon over a decade before.

"Som arving til Malfoy-navnet beder jeg dig om at være rolig."

The dragon's hot breath blew across his head. For an instant, he was sure that he'd failed just as thoroughly as he had done then, except that this time, there would be no-one to stop the dragon from burning him to a crisp. Orion opened his mouth, showing every one of his teeth. They'll need to have a closed casket funeral for me, he thought regretfully, and he prepared for the blast of flame.

TBC…

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