Chapter 38: Intention is Everything
Afraid by The Neighbourhood
It had been three weeks since Draco returned to Hogwarts, and he knew it was only a matter of time before everything that hung in such precarious balance finally toppled over. There had been no mention of his defection, something he was sure would come in mention by way of The Carrows and their love of the cruciatus curse… Or any curse they could think of to use to torture him, really. But when the second week passed with no utterance of his betrayal, he began to worry.
Were they waiting? Were they standing by for someone else to come in and take him out? Did they know and had they been ordered to standby and let him squirm until the Dark Lord himself came to punish him? Or Merlin forbid, Bellatrix..?
"Your teeth are going to crack from how tightly you have them clenched."
Draco looked up from his Transfiguration text at the sound of Ginny's voice. He had been staring at the same page for at least twenty minutes, unable to focus on whatever he was supposed to be reading. He flinched when Ginny's hand rested on top of his, lightly dragging over his knuckles with her face pulled in concern. He sighed, unclenching his jaw and shaking his head a bit.
"Sorry," he said.
"They would know by now, wouldn't they? If they had the information, if anyone would have told them, they would have done it by now."
"They could be waiting," Draco said. "For all I know, Bellatrix could be their next dinner guest and they're just waiting for her to get here to have the honor of finally killing me off."
"Don't say that!" Ginny snapped, "If they had the intention of killing you, you'd be dead."
"You're right. It's far more likely that they'll torture me into madness and then toss my body in the cellar to rot."
Ginny pursed her lips, her eyebrows creasing with irritation. "No one is going to let you be tortured, Draco. We're almost done with the term, when it's over we'll go into hiding and figure things out with the Order."
"Because the Order would just love to have another Malfoy on their hands to take care of," he grumbled.
"There is nothing Malfoy about you besides your looks and your name," Ginny retorted. "We're lucky to have you and Ellie on our side."
Draco closed his eyes and took a slow breath at the mention of his sister's name. His stomach knotted and he could feel the tightening in his chest. Leaving her behind, in that cottage, had been far more difficult than he would have imagined. He had begged her to come with him, and she had begged him to stay. But they both knew that neither option was feasible. She had a job to do with Potter; whatever the fuck that meant. And Draco couldn't- wouldn't, leave Ginny to fend for herself. Although, she was probably more capable than he was, at this point.
Elara had looked sickening when he finally saw her. Defiant as ever with her chin held high as Bellatrix forced her to her knees and twisted her hand in her hair, threatening her life, the lives of her friends. When they finally made it out and got to Bill and Fleur's cottage, he couldn't contain himself as he sobbed into her hair. He had been given glimpses over the months, small pieces of information fed to him to say she was alive, that blasted little coin that kept him going. But to see her, emaciated and bruised and still full of fire, it had wrenched his soul into two.
Leaving her behind without any idea of when he'd see her again, if he'd see her again, was more difficult than the first time he had left her on the Astronomy tower. Everything was different now, changing every day. The air was different, heavy with fear and tension that even he could feel. He was supremely grateful for Potter though, a thought he never thought he'd have in his wildest dreams. Potter would take care of her, he knew that for certain. In the days he spent with them at Shell Cottage it was obvious that the prat cared for her, helping her eat, holding her while she cried, knowing exactly what to do when she broke down…
"I'm not sure it could be considered lucky," Draco finally said. "Two defected Death Eaters on your hands seems like a death sentence."
"Being a blood traitor is a death sentence anyway, we were doomed from the start."
A book slammed to the top of the table they shared in the Library and Draco felt his heart race as he whipped around in his chair, his wand jabbing into Blaise's chest.
"Sorry, mate." Blaise said, raising his hands in surrender, "Didn't mean to startle you."
Draco pulled in a few slow breaths, calming his nerves as he stuffed his wand back into his sleeve, "Crept up on me."
"Got a letter from my mum today," Blaise said, taking the seat across from him. "She's going into hiding."
"She put that in a letter?!" Ginny asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"She wrote it all in Italian and it looks like a recipe for a healing potion, so yes."
"Where's she going?" Draco asked.
Blaise sighed, "Didn't tell me that much. Apparently she was visited by a few Death Eaters shortly after I came back here, didn't go into detail about it but if history proves itself, they tortured her again."
"Shit," Ginny and Draco said in unison.
"Yeah, shit." Blaised sighed, running his hand over his face, "She'll be all right though. Mum's tough, she'll be all right."
Draco felt a tightening in his chest that told him Blaise was trying to convince himself of it more than he was trying to convince them. Not that he could blame Blaise. Emiliana was wealthy and intelligent, the Death Eaters had been trying to recruit her for longer than Draco could recall, probably since the first war. Her defiance would cost her life, if she wasn't careful. A fact that they were all too aware of.
Silence settled over the small group as they turned back to their studies, working to try and focus on something other than the suffocating air of the world around them. Draco couldn't focus, his heart hammering against his chest as fear continued to creep into his mind. It was too quiet lately, in the castle. The Carrows still enjoyed their nightly rounds of torture to students, but it was almost lackluster compared to how it had been before their short break away for Easter Hols. Suddenly, a thought struck him, Ellie's voice ringing in his head: I think you should go to Snape when you return… I think he's still on our side.
Draco stood from the table abruptly, his chair nearly falling backward as it screeched across the floor. Blaise looked up from the parchment he was writing on, an eyebrow arched high on his forehead, a silent question. Ginny looked at him with concern, her mouth pressed in a thin line, her eyes hard.
"I… I'll be back later. There's something I have to do," Draco mumbled, shoving his belongings into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"Are you…?" Ginny trailed off, turning ocean blue eyes up at him.
"I'm okay, I just need to handle something. I'll talk to you later?" Draco said, trying to keep his voice even.
Ginny gave a stiff nod and a very unconvincing smile, "Okay. We're dueling later, in the Room of Requirement, a lot of the younger students barely know how to produce a basic shield charm. Could use your help."
"I'll be there," he promised.
Draco gave a curt nod in Blaise's direction, his eyes flitting to Ginny trying to silently ask his friend to watch out for his… girlfriend? Blaise returned the look with a shallow nod of understanding and Draco turned on his heel, speeding out of the library.
He barely took a breath as he walked quickly through the corridors, trying to calm his nerves and slow his pace so he didn't bring too much attention on himself. Go to Snape, he's on our side, I really don't think he's working against us. If there was one thing he knew about his sister, it was that in most scenarios, her intuition was right. It was bloody annoying, most of the time, but he knew he had to listen to her. She was always right. And right now, Draco desperately needed her to be right.
His closed fist hovered over the heavy wooden door to the Headmaster's office. He squared his shoulders, taking in a shuddering breath. He hadn't spoken to Snape at all since his return to Hogwarts at the start of term, could barely stand to look at the man, not that he was around much to look at in the first place. He kept hidden away most of the time and Draco wondered if that had anything to do with this feeling that Elara had.
Finally, his knuckles rapped against the door.
"Come in," Snape's voice drawled from the other side.
Draco took one last, terrified, breath. Blowing it out slowly through his mouth before he pushed the door open, slipping inside and closing it behind him. He had only been in the office a few times when it was Dumbledore's, but it looked pretty much the same. A few less trinkets than he remembered, a book shelf against the back wall that looked new, holding a host of different bottles and strange looking items that Draco knew had to do with brewing rare potions.
"Draco," Snape said, looking up from the large desk he sat at. "This is… Unexpected."
Draco stared at the man for several minutes, his feet feeling rooted to the stone floor where he stood. Snape looked like shit, if he were being honest. He didn't look like a man who was proudly taking over the most powerful wizarding school on the continent. He looked… defeated. Scared, even. Draco silently wished he had Elara's ability to read emotions right now, he could really benefit from knowing exactly what the potion's master was feeling.
Snape had grown thin, not that he had much excess on him to begin with, but his face was sunken in, sallow. His hair hung in limp curtains around his face, and Draco could make out a few strands of grey in the otherwise jet black locks. He looked older now, as if the last nine months had aged him thirty years.
"Did you come here to stand in the middle of my office, or do you have a purpose?"
Draco blinked a few times before stepping forward, setting his bag on the floor by the foot of the tall backed chair and taking a seat. He didn't know what to say. He didn't really know why he had felt such an overwhelming need to come here, to talk to Snape. Sure, Snape had been a confidant in his time at Hogwarts, and he had known the man almost his entire life. But now, it felt wrong. Tainted. Like opening his mouth and saying anything to him would instantly burn his tongue.
Finally, Draco opened his mouth, with every intention to question the man before him. Instead, what came out was, "I defected."
It was barely a whisper, and had the quick look of shock that stole the man's face not been there, Draco may have thought he didn't hear it. Snape squared his shoulders, steepling his fingers below his chin and raised an eyebrow at him.
"I wondered how long it would take," Snape said.
That hadn't been the response Draco had been expecting. Draco swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to his dry mouth as his eyes shifted over the Headmaster's face before finally settling on a quill that laid on the center of the desk.
"You knew?" Draco asked.
"I suspected," Snape said.
"Do the Carrows…" Draco trailed off, lifting his eyes back to Snape's face and cursing himself in his head for the fear that was evident in his voice.
"Not to my knowledge," Snape said. "Why have you come here, Draco?"
Draco huffed out an irritated breath, carding a hand through his hair out of frustration. Because my sister seems to think you're a bloody ally and I don't fucking know why but I felt like I needed to see for myself! "I don't know."
Snape shifted in his chair and clasped his hands together, resting them on the top of his desk. His black eyes bore into Draco, studying him closely. Finally, he spoke. "There are students in the castle who are actively preparing themselves for battle, I assume you are among them?"
He already knew the answer, Draco knew that. "Yes."
"I am not your sister, Draco. I will not pull whatever you have come here to say out of you."
At the mention of Elara, something deep inside of his belly burned with anger, "Don't talk about her. You don't get to talk of her! This is your fault! She's out there risking her fucking life while I'm trapped here, and it is your fault."
Snape bristled before leaning over his desk, "As I recall, it was you who led the Death Eaters into this castle. It was Elara who created the spell to allow it to happen. You are at much fault as I am."
"You killed him!" Draco said, jumping to his feet and scrubbing his face with his hands, praying for the nausea rolling in his gut to go away, "You killed him! I- I wasn't going to! I had lowered my wand! I was going to walk away and then you-
"I did what was necessary."
"What was necessary?!" Draco repeated with an incredulous tone, his voice rising ever higher in volume. "Please fucking explain to me how that was necessary?! We're all going to die, you know that, don't you?! He's going to come here and kill every last one of us! My parents-"
Draco's voice faltered as realization tumbled over him. My parents. What had he done? He had had openly defied the Dark Lord, openly defied Bellatrix, and his parents were left behind. His mother was left behind to pick up the pieces and… Oh God. They'll kill her. The nausea that had been burning in his gut made its way up his throat as he heaved, burning bile spilling past his lips and splashing onto the stone floor. His hands gripped his knees as he stood bent over, taking in large breaths to try and calm his racing heart. Finally, he stood up, casting a cleaning charm to clear away to sick on the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Sit," Snape said. It wasn't a request.
Draco clenched his teeth, feeling the strain in his jaw as his nostrils flared with angry breaths. He sat back down in the chair, Snape's gaze pinning him to the spot. Snape pushed away from the desk walking to a small cart in the corner of the office and picked up a bottle, he filled two crystal tumblers half way with amber liquid and stepped back to his desk, handing one to Draco.
"I assume you have a reason for being here and it's not just to vomit on my floor."
Draco took a sip of the Firewhiskey, relishing in the burn of it on his throat. "Elara thinks you're still part of the Order."
"You've seen her?"
Draco nodded, "She said I should come to you."
"At the risk of interrupting what I am sure was a very well thought lie, Severus. I believe young Mr. Malfoy has proven he is deserving of the truth. With the understanding that nothing that is said in this office, will leave it."
The voice rocked Draco to his core and his eyes fell immediately to the portrait of Dumbledore centered behind Snape's tall chair. He hadn't noticed it before, had been empty when he entered? He felt his chest tighten again the memories of the night on the astronomy tower slamming into the front of his mind. He took a shaky breath and looked at the portrait, even as a painting his eyes twinkled knowingly at him, as if he knew something about Draco that he didn't know about himsef.
"I'm sorry," Draco whispered.
"Severus, if you would..?"
Snape cleared his throat, grabbing his wand and flicking his wrist. Draco heard the lock on the door click into place. Snape took a slow breath, a sip of his Firewhiskey, and began talking.
Three hours later Draco's legs dangled from his broom as he hovered high above the Quidditch pitch. His mind was reeling, his thought speeding through his head so fast he could barely grasp onto them. Snape and Dumbledore's portait had talked for a long time, longer than he had ever talked to either of them. When Snape had finished speaking, Draco sat there staring at the man, dumbfounded.
He had been ordered to kill Dumbledore, by Dumbledore himself.
Draco closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of cool spring air. Elara had been right about Snape, of course she had. And Snape had some strange, undying loyalty to Dumbledore. It was all planned, from the beginning. Draco never would have been the one to cast the curse, because Dumbledore had made sure that it would be Snape. Dumbledore had asked Snape to assist him before his mother had even gone to the man! Dumbledore had known everything, and he still let it all unfold this way!
Regardless of Snape's allegiances, it didn't change the outcome. Dumbledore still died, The Carrows were still torturing students, his parents were still in danger, Elara was still on the run…
He wasn't sure if having the knowlege was better or worse and the only thing he wanted to do was either unload all of these findings with his sister, or scream into the abyss. So, he screamed. He flew as high as his broom would take him and he bellowed at the top of his lungs, screaming until his throat felt raw and his stomach ached. He screamed until his voice gave out, breaking completely and going hoarse.
When he flew back to the pitch, Ginny stood in the center of the wet grass, staring up at him.
"Did the sky personally offend you?" she asked, when his feet touched the earth next to her.
Draco chewed at the inside of his cheek, his lips twisting down to the side as he said nothing. He couldn't tell her everything he had been told, but he had a job to do now. He had a purpose. He had to make sure the Order succeeded. Dumbledore's death would not be in vain, Draco's death would not be in vain. Because as it was, he was certain he would not make it out of this alive.
"Gonna tell me where you ran off to?" Ginny asked.
"No."
Ginny drew in a breath and nodded, "Okay. Did you do something stupid?"
Draco huffed out a mirthless laugh, "Probably."
"A good stupid or a bad stupid?"
Draco shrugged, "That's yet to be determined."
"I've grown up in a family of Gryffindors, Draco. I can spot detrimental determination better than a seeker can spot a snitch. Whatever it is that you're planning, don't get yourself killed."
"That's the problem, isn't it?" Draco whispered, taking the hand that Ginny held out to him and feeling his heart skip a beat when their fingers intertwined. "I haven't got a plan. I have no idea what is going to happen and I'm faily certain none of us will make it out alive."
"That's an awfully bleak way to look at it," she said, giving him a small tug as she began walking back toward the castle.
"What other way is there to look at it?"
Ginny hummed, tapping her chin for a moment before stopping mid stride and stepping in front of him, "Do you believe that the Order will succeed?"
"I… I don't know."
"Okay, what about… What about Ellie? Do you believe she will succeed with whatever it is she's doing? That Harry, Hermione, and my stupid brother will succeed?"
"I want to," Draco said. "Ellie always does. Potter and his friends always do. I want to believe they're going to be successful."
"I have no idea what they're doing," Ginny admitted. "But whatever it is, it's important. And Harry can be a bit thick sometimes, god knows Ron is a bit thick all the time, but Ellie and Hermione aren't. Whatever it is that they're doing is going to end this, we're going to win."
"How can you be so sure?" Draco murmured, "We don't even know what they're doing, or… Or where they are."
"Because it has to," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I know that putting your faith in anyone is hard for you to do. And I know you and Harry don't get on, so put your faith in me, Draco. I believe without a doubt, that we're going to get through this. That it's going to end in victory. You have to believe it, too. I need you to believe it, too."
She pressed up on her toes and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before pulling him toward the castle again, and he wondered if he could do it. If he could actually believe that Potter would be successful.
It felt like it took longer than normal for the sun to break over the horizon and fill her room with the golden hue. Elara had been lying awake for at least two hours now, staring up at the ceiling at Hermione slept in the bed across from her, having taken a healthy dose of Dreamless Sleep the night before.
Hermione had yet to sleep through a night without waking up from the memory of being tortured by Elara's aunt, on the floor of her childhood home. The first few nights, Elara had climbed into the bed with her and pressed her fingers to her temple, burying it as far as she could, only to have it spring forward again only an hour later. Try as she might, Elara couldn't hide this for Hermione. She couldn't comfort her mind. She couldn't take the emotions from her. She wanted to, more than anything, she wanted to.
After two weeks, Hermione had finally taken Fleur up on her offer of Dreamless Sleep.
Elara wished she would have done the same. She would give her left arm for a full night's sleep. Morbidly, she chuckled under her breath at that. She had almost given her left arm already. The fingers on her right hand found the raised, purple scars that began at her elbow and ran up to her shoulder, spidering out and twisting around her arm. She sighed, shaking the thought from her head and swung her legs over the side of the camp bed she slept on, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers and sneaking out of the room.
She padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, surprised to see Fleur already awake and buzzing about. The beautiful woman turned to look at her, a soft smile on her face as she took the whistling kettle off the cook top and pulled two mugs from the cabinet.
"Bonjour," Fleur practically sang as she filled the mug, crossing the room and taking a seat at the table. She set the other mug down at the empty place across from her, givin Elara a pointed look.
"Bonjour," Elara returned. "You're up early."
"The wind," Fleur said, motioning to the window.
Elara looked out and could see the tops of the trees swaying violently against the strong breeze. She nodded in understanding and took a sip from her mug, "Thank you."
Fleur hummed in acknowledgment, "You 'ave not slept."
Elara sighed, "Not really, no."
"Because of your plans to leave today?"
Elara's eyes widened a bit as she coughed, choking on the hot sip of tea she had taken, "W-what?"
Fleur rolled her eyes and a small smirk settled on her lips, "My 'usband is a Curse Breaker. there is no such thing as a silencing charm in our house."
Elara blanched, instantly feeling both nervous and embarrassed, "You've heard…?"
"Everything."
"Oh…" Elara blew out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, "I'm sorry."
"Do not feel embarrassed," Fleur said. "Love is hard to come by and should be expressed. I am more concerned that you have made deals with the Goblin."
"You know about that, too?!" Elara asked, feeling slightly panicked.
"Don't worry, Bill and I will keep your secrets. I owe much to 'Arry, I will not betray that trust."
"We all owe a lot to Harry," Elara whispered.
"That is probably true," Fleur took a sip from her mug and then a sad smile stole her face as she looked at Elara. "You worry for him."
"Constantly."
"Ah," Fleur said, wrapping her long fingers around her mug, the smile still on her face. "But 'Arry is very brave, you know."
"I know," Elara said. "But that's the problem, isn't it?"
"How so?"
"We're breaking into bloody Gringotts!" Elara said, giving up on keeping the secret.
Fleur already knew, Bill clearly knew, what was the point? She was terrified and no one else seemed to understand the consequences of doing something like this. They weren't going to be able to just walk away unscathed from this, she was sure of it. By the time they got to the ancient vaults, reinforcements would be called in and they would all be arrested or killed. And the house full of Gryffindors and their ridiculous self-sacrificing bravery was going to get them all killed, and none of them wanted to listen to her about that fact!
"May I offer advice?" Fleur said, her face taking on a strangely ethereal look as she tilted her head and stared at Elara.
Elara nodded, finding it difficult to look away from Fleur. "Yes."
"Sometimes the right answer does not make sense. If you spend too long seeking the logic, you will miss the answer altogether."
"I don't understand," Elara said, the words rolling in her mind.
Fleur pursed her lips as if she was trying to come up with a better way to get her point across, finally, she smiled. "If you must go to Gringotts to do something important, the how is not what matters. It is the why. You must do something that is greater than you, to do that you must focus on the intention, not the mechanics."
Elara raised an eyebrow at her, "So I should just ignore the fact that we're breaking into the most secure Wizarding bank in the world and will probably die from getting eaten by a dragon?"
Fleur laughed, "Ah, but you will not be eaten. I know from experience that this is not the first time 'Arry needed to overcome a dragon. And last time, there was a lot less at stake."
Elara sighed, running her fingers through her hair to shove it from her face, "You can't tell anyone what we're doing. If anyone finds out it could ruin everything."
"Lucky for you, Bill and I are very efficient at keeping secrets."
Fleur reached out, her hand covering Elara's and she gave it a small squeeze before standing up and moving to the stove, "I will make breakfast, it seems as if we are not the only ones awake anymore."
Elara nodded, rolling over Fleur's words as she heard the creaking of the stairs and the rustling in the sitting room. She could hear the hushed whispers of Harry, could feel his mounting anxiety as he talked. She looked through the door way and saw a halo of bushy curls sitting next to Harry, showing him something in a book. Perhaps Fleur was right… Maybe the intention was more important than the mechanics. If breaking into Gringotts, double crossing a goblin, and being roasted alive by a dragon was what would bring the downfall of Voldemort, then…
She sighed.
I guess I'll get eaten by a dragon.
.
.
a/n: Hey everyone! thank you for reading! So I had planned for this story to hit about 45-50 chapters, but I'm honestly not sure if it will get quite that far. But we'll see. Good news though, I WILL BE WRITING AN EPILOGUE. So, there's that.
Anyway, thank you again, and please remember to leave a little review! :)
xo
mimi
