CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ALLIANCE

"Potter?" A familiar sneering voice sounded from behind him. Harry whipped around and came face to face with his arch-nemesis, one Draco Malfoy.

Kreacher froze in his genuflection, cutting his tenth Hail Merlin short (it had been agreed, rather tensely, that Kreacher would not punish himself in the usual manner and would, instead, be rewarded for a job well done) as he backed into the shadows and tried to appear inconspicuous.

"D'you actually live here now, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, looking about. "Shouldn't be surprised, should I, the types of friends you've got."

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry shot back. "You know as well as I do that I haven't got any friends."

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up. Out of all the retorts he expected, clearly the famous Harry Potter deigning to admit he hadn't got any friends was not one of them. Malfoy was, for once, at a loss for words.

"What're you doing here, anyway? This was my- I mean, I'm busy here," Harry said lamely.

Malfoy snorted. "I can see that," he replied. "Not that it's any of your business, but I got an owl from a mysterious person to meet them here."

It was Harry's turn to raise his eyebrows. "What sort of person would meet you, and here?"

"Like I said, none of your business. What's that behind you?"

"Nice try."

"No, really. Why have you got a shrine to Merlin in here? You don't strike me as the sort."

Harry took a step towards his arch-nemesis, Draco Malfoy.

"And… what sort do I strike you as?" he murmured. Suddenly, Draco looked uneasy, but held his resolve.

"The sort to shag our teacher, then give up the baby to someone even that great fool Dumbledore can't beat with a spell. So? Out with it. How did the Famous Harry Potter come to be on such intimate terms with-"

"You know, I really don't have time to help you, er, on your mass attempted murdering spree or whatever it is you've been doing all year," Harry snapped, flushing. "But if you'd care to assist me in another way…"

"How dare you, Potter?!" Malfoy exclaimed. "My father will hear about this!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Load of good he'll be able to do, since I put him in prison and all," he reminded his arch-nemesis. Malfoy blanched. "D'you know," Harry continued mercilessly, "I wonder how he's getting on with the other prisoners. In the Muggle world, there are rumours about-"

"I don't give a toss about the Muggle world, and neither would my father! We Malfoys are above such rubbish!" Draco Malfoy bellowed, his face going from white to red.

"Fine. Whatever," Harry said dismissively. "Look, obviously your friend isn't going to show. Not that I'm surprised you got stood up, honestly," he added.

Malfoy looked quizzically at his enemy. "Er, weren't you just flirting with me a hot second ago?" he pointed out.

"I was trying to get you to leave," Harry admitted. "It worked when that Akumanox did, you know."

"Yet there's a rumour going round that you gave your baby to her."

"Dunno what I was thinking," Harry said flatly.

"Having second thoughts, are you?" Draco Malfoy looked…. If Harry didn't know better, he'd think Draco Malfoy looked concerned. Harry decided to hedge his bets. It wouldn't be the first reckless decision he'd made in his life.

"Dumbledore was going to force me to sign the baby over to Mrs. Weasley." He ignored Draco's reflexive scoff at the name of the blood traitor. "He claimed it would be unsafe for me to- to keep him." Harry made a great show of taking off his glasses and cleaning them, hoping Draco wouldn't notice him blinking away tears.

"You know there's a spell for that, right?" Draco asked dryly, pointing his wand at Harry's glasses.

"... Right," Harry said. "Scourgify. Anyway, he was going to force me to do a Blood Rite to bind my son, my firstborn and only son, to Mrs. Weasley."

Draco nodded solemnly, having no interest in insults for once. If anyone could comprehend what a dire situation handing off an innocent Wizard baby to a family such as the Weasleys, it was surely Draco Malfoy. "So then, your only choice, to keep the Dark Lord from targeting you through your son, was to give him away to someone more powerful than the known wizard with the best chance of defeating said Dark Lord."

Harry made a face at Draco's use of Voldemort's title. He knew the Malfoy family was involved with Voldemort, but it was a stark reminder; only his followers called him "the Dark Lord". Still, he nodded. Distaste aside, Draco wasn't incorrect.

"But you regret it," Draco continued. "You want him back."

Harry softened. "Wouldn't you?" he asked.

Something crossed Draco's face. Was it heartache?

"I would," the other boy confirmed. "Sev's child… I would- no, I will do anything to help him."

"Even if he's my child as well?"

"Even so."

Harry nodded, grateful for his arch-nemesis's allegiance. "I've written to Akumanox. I asked her if I could see James Sirius-"

"You've got rubbish taste in names," Draco saw fit to inform him.

Harry closed his eyes and took a breath. "She hasn't responded. It's been two months."

Draco remained silent. The look on his face said he was waiting for the bad part.

"..."

"..."

"Why won't she let me see my son?" Harry pressed.

"Isn't it better if she doesn't?" Draco asked reasonably.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, Dumbledore may be a barmy old codger, but if Sev's child-"

"My child-"

"-is safe from the Dark Lord, isn't that what matters most?"

Damn it. Draco was being reasonable. Harry had no time for reasonable. "Look, I miss him, okay? Are you going to help me or not?"

Draco looked as though he was sorely tempted to remind Harry that he had promised to help Harry's son, not Harry himself. Harry steeled himself for a fight. But then, Draco surprised him yet again.

"Very well. I don't trust Akumanox either."