Chapter Twelve: Ron's Helping Hand
"I could've brought my Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy," Harry said, exasperated.
The prefect was leading the way down the seventh corridor, not dragging Harry but merely walking ahead, always two steps in front of him. The only issue was, students were going about the corridor now that dinnertime had finished. The seventh-floor housed the Half-Human Tower, the Gryffindor Tower, the Ravenclaw Tower, the Divination Tower, Flitwick's office, the entrance to Dumbledore's office, and lastly, the Room of Requirement.
Because of this, they ended up avoiding dozens of students. A group of Ravenclaws even stopped walking, pointed in their direction and then started gossiping amongst themselves. Harry distinctly overheard his name mentioned as he'd walked past them.
"I need to see that you're following me, Potter. And your concern is unnecessary," Draco snapped back. "Everyone knows we despise one another. They probably think we're going to duel."
Harry snorted. I don't know whether I want to duel him or kiss him anymore.
The realisation annoyed him. Draco had been changing from the end of fifth year, slowly becoming more civil, to the extent of helping and befriending Gryffindors. Gryffindors who didn't include Harry. He's keeping his distance from me. Because I'm his mate, whatever that is, it must mean I'm important to him.
The two reached the end of the corridor that held the Room of Requirement. For Harry, it made him double-check that he had his wand in his pocket. We were here last year. Draco tripped me, but then changed his mind, didn't he? He watched as the prefect began pacing up and down next to the wall, the man obviously caught up in thought and trying to make the room present itself for his purpose. He tried to protect me even then, from Umbridge.
The door slowly emerged in the wall, growing like a plant. The double doors grew to the point of being taller than Harry, and almost as wide as the entrance doors to the Great Hall.
"Follow me in, Potter. And close the door after yourself, please."
Draco opened the door and entered. Harry paused, wondering if he really should follow the blond inside. Hermione and Ron will be livid when they find out I've followed a Death Eater into a room alone. Harry shut his eyes and pushed the thought away. Draco didn't choose to be a Death Eater willingly. No, he won't harm me.
Harry entered the Room of Requirement, and pointedly, he pushed the door shut, not wanting all the students who had seen them walking down the seventh-floor corridor to follow them inside and overhear their conversation.
He turned and examined the room that Draco had summoned from the Room of Requirement. There were piles and piles of cupboards and desks, a heavy axe lying atop one of the cupboards, broomsticks with splintered handles, chipped bottles, hats and jewels and cloaks aligned on racks over in the corner, various bookcases and trophy cases, cauldrons, suits of armour, and countless musical instruments.
"What is this place?" Harry asked, astounded by the sheer amount of objects in the room. "If it's about Dumbledore's Army, we haven't held a meeting since Umbridge busted us last year."
"Not everything is about you." Draco waved his arm, motioning for Harry to follow him past a mound of broken cupboards and desks. "This is the Room of Hidden Things. It's just back here."
Draco led him to a small clearance of space. When Harry reached him, Draco held his hand out and pointed to a cabinet on Harry's right. It was a tall, thin thing, all black wood and iron, standing on four legs.
"What is it?" he asked.
"That is a Vanishing Cabinet. There is another in Borgin and Burkes. The two are meant to connect, if you will, like two locations in a Floo network, but this one is broken. It won't work."
Harry approached the cabinet. This was what Draco was talking to Borgin about, warning him not to tell anyone else. Not even his mum.
"You said...you said you would show me why you're dangerous? What's so dangerous about these cabinets?"
"The danger is the intention I have for it." Draco turned his gaze from the cabinet onto Harry. "You wanted to know the mission the Dark Lord has given me? The mission, is kill the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He's tasked me with murdering Albus Dumbledore, Harry."
Harry felt his lips part. He stared at Draco Malfoy, wondering if the prefect was telling the truth, wondering why Voldemort would give such an enormous, impossible task to a sixth-year student, wondering if he could intervene, and then wondering how Draco intended to use the cabinets.
"Are you going to kill him?" he asked.
"I don't want to, Potter. I don't, believe me. I may dislike the Headmaster, because he clearly favourites Gryffindors, and don't argue with me on that, it's not important right now," Draco said, giving him a pointed look, thinking Harry might interrupt. Harry held his tongue. He wanted to say something in the Headmaster's defence, but Draco was right, this wasn't the moment to argue about favouritism. "I dislike him, yes, but I don't want to murder the man. I don't want to murder anyone."
"But you said, you did say you could use these cabinets. How would you use them?"
"I would repair this one. And invite Death Eaters into the school, the ones not locked up in Azkaban. The Death Eaters could go through the one in Borgin and Burkes, come out through this one, and from that point, it'd only be a matter of walking the short distance down the seventh-floor corridor to Dumbledore's office."
The way Draco said his speech, it was like he had rehearsed it. The method sounded so well planned, so outright and simple, that Harry could see the brilliance in it. He could also see the sheer danger in the plan, not only to Dumbledore but to all the residents of Hogwarts. He wants to let Death Eaters into the school. Bellatrix, her husband Rudolph, Fenrir Greyback, any of them could come through.
"You can't, Draco. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers are on this floor. Flitwick's office, too." Harry had walked past them only just earlier that day. And there were certainly other places the Death Eaters could access, not all on the seventh-floor. "Lestrange, you would let her into the school? Her? She nearly killed Sirius."
"You don't understand! I have to do this. Borgin gave me instructions. An incantation. I have to fix the cabinet, Harry, I have to." Draco's eyes were watering. A tear leaked down his cheek, others followed. His face scrunched-up, lips quivering. "I have to continue repairing it. Or he'll kill me."
"Draco, he's given you an impossible mission. How could he expect you to kill Dumbledore?" Harry couldn't believe he was asking the question. He could barely believe that Voldemort had put such a task on the Slytherin in front of him.
"I don't know. I think...I think he chose me because my father failed to retrieve the prophecy last year. He'll kill me, my mum, and then he'll go after my father in prison. Azkaban won't stop the Dark Lord." Draco rubbed his teary gaze with a sleeve, and sniffed. "And now I'm banned from Hogsmeade. When the Dark Lord finds out about that -"
"How? Who's going to tell him?"
"Crabbe, probably. Or another student. Someone will brag to their parents, who will then inform the Dark Lord. Or my mother will find out, and the Dark Lord could use Legilimens on her. And he'll think I'm failing."
"Can't Dumbledore help you and your mum? Can't your mum get away?"
"No, she can't. Bellatrix stays with her every moment of each day. You know my Aunt despises blood traitors. I think she would kill my mum on the spot if she ever showed even a hint of sympathy for anything non-pureblood," he explained, his voice still sounding watery but now more composed than before. "I came to inspect the cabinet the other evening, to see if it was still here. Or even fixable. Gregory kept watch outside."
"Goyle? Goyle knows what you're doing in here?"
Draco snorted. "He knows the Dark Lord has given me a mission. Gregory, Pansy, Blaise, and Crabbe all know, although I haven't seen or spoken with Crabbe much since we returned to Hogwarts. Crabbe and his family despise anything not fully human, something to do with a family relative eloping with a vampire. I didn't pay much attention when he told the story, to be honest." He looked at the floor. "Perhaps I should've. I do wonder, if Crabbe had found out last year, if I'd told him, would he have remained my friend?"
Harry could relate. He had feared telling Ron and Hermione that he was a vampire during the summer, the prospect of being rejected weighing greatly on his mind.
"He isn't much of a friend, if he rejects you after six years of friendship."
"Perhaps," he replied, and sniffed again. "I suppose everyone has taken well to your vampirism, Potter? The fangs?"
Harry swallowed. "You're really the only one who's seen them so far, Draco. Other than you, Tonks and Snape, no one else has." He felt uncomfortable speaking about his fangs. They had only ever come out in Draco's presence so far, and Harry had so little understanding and control of them. "I'm hoping the vampire I'm in contact with, Harold, can tell me more about my fangs. I haven't had any problems, though. Ron and Hermione accept me for who I am now, but I haven't, well, it's not an easy thing drinking blood every day."
"No, I imagine it's not." Draco gave him small smile. "If it's anything, Potter, I am sorry I ran away on the train. It wasn't your fangs that made me run, it was the look on your face when you saw my arm. You're the only one who knows my arm's bleeding, you know. I didn't expect you to look so affected when I showed you it."
"Of course I cared. I still care. Draco, I've told you this already."
Harry didn't know how many times he'd told Draco. Ever since he had suspected that Draco hadn't wanted to become to a Death Eater, his feelings had grown, from sympathy and caring for his well-being, to a desire for friendship, to admiration and respect, and slowly, he was starting to become attracted to the prefect now. It was daunting, how much he cared for the man.
"You can't expect me to believe you, Harry," he said calmly, as if truly believed that Harry wasn't interested in him. "Now, do you have any more questions for me?"
"Just one, you haven't explained what being your mate means. It must be something important to you?"
"Important?" Draco chuckled. "Important doesn't begin to describe how vital a mate is to veelas. That's the question you want to ask?"
"You've described in enough detail what your mission is, Draco. I know how impossible that is," he replied, "but you're avoiding telling me why you were so terrified in the dorm room earlier. When it was just you and me. Why do I scare you?"
"Because you hold power over me, Potter." Draco glared at him. "You want an explanation from me, and not from a book? Fair enough. In Bulgaria and France, veelas tend to know who their mates are from birth. Parents can work that out early on based on their children's behaviour. Here, in my case, my parents didn't know. I only found out last year from Pomfrey and I had to keep it secret. My parents, however, they had to be told by the Ministry that I'd inherited the gene from some French ancestor. Do you know how horrid that was for me, to have the Ministry not only imprison my father but then also inform me that I could only return to Hogwarts if I followed a set of specific rules?"
"I had that as well, Malfoy. I thought I wouldn't be able to return because I was a vampire."
"You at least had your friends, I had the Dark Lord in my home, Potter. In my own home! My mother tried to explain what being a veela meant, but given that the gene comes from my father's line, she didn't know much." Draco sighed, sounding tired. "I worked out that you were my mate by the end of fifth year, that moment when I tripped you."
"Before Umbridge caught me, you were telling me to run?"
"Yes, that's it, exactly then. I realised I didn't hate you then, I didn't want anything bad to happen to you. And I knew what the Dark Lord and my father were planning, to try and seize a prophecy to defeat you. I didn't want you to get hurt, not from them, not from Umbridge. I realised then that you were my mate."
"Okay," Harry said, although he still couldn't work out why Draco didn't want to be alone in a room with him. "That can't be it, though. What else does being your mate mean?"
"I'm getting there. Veelas and their mates are notoriously powerful together, friendship, acquaintances, partners, or otherwise. Normally, veelas and their mates tend to be friends, but you've seen my magic, Potter. It went haywire on the train when I thought that you, my own mate, wanted to touch my arm. I didn't dare think that you cared, I thought you wanted to hurt me. Veelas rely on emotional support, on being mentally healthy. If we're not stable, our emotions can take over our magic. And you saw what happened with me."
Harry sighed. "I don't think I would've hurt you, Draco. It was the first time my fangs came out, but I wouldn't have done it. And you didn't mean to cause the explosion, either. Not really. You were scared."
"I'd rather die than hurt someone, Harry. I won't let my emotions gain control over my magic again." Draco leaned against a broken desk, looking contemplative. "I am dangerous, though, yes. If my mother ever disowned me, and never spoke to me again, I don't think I could cope. If Pansy said she no longer wanted to be my friend, I think I'd survive, but it would take a massive amount of focus and control on my part. And Potter, if you..."
Draco trailed off, not finishing the sentence.
"If I, did what?" Harry pressed him.
"If I ever extended my hand again, and you refused my friendship again, I think I would go mad." He turned his gaze to the floor. "The other day, when you asked if we could be friends, I didn't want to accept because I was afraid. I barely know what I am, but I do know that you could be the ruin of me."
"You won't be friends with me, won't consider it, because you're scared I'll hurt you?"
"You could, Potter. Very easily. You could tell anyone about my Mark, and have me carted off to Azkaban. Feel free to, in fact. If I died, perhaps the Dark Lord would let my mother live." He sniffed, and then stood up, regaining his full height. "I have to protect her. You'd do the same if Sirius were the one being threatened."
"I'd never hurt you, Draco. I don't want to. And I want your mum safe, too, all right? I mean, Lestrange can't keep her eye on your mum all the time. She could escape." It was like trying to convince a brick wall, though. Draco merely grimaced, as if he couldn't contemplate the notion of his mother being rescued by anyone other than him. "I can help. I can ask someone to give her somewhere safe to stay."
Draco titled his head. "Please don't get my hopes up, Potter." He glanced at the Vanishing Cabinet, and then stepped towards the pile of broken cupboards, moving to place some distance between him and the cabinet. "Can we leave? My arm is starting to ache. I think I need to rebind the Mark with new bandages."
"Of course. You lead the way out."
In the days that followed, Harry felt himself losing touch with the Slytherin. Draco took to ignoring him again, because of course he had to. Harry didn't know how to convince Draco that he didn't want to hurt him. He didn't know how he could save Draco's mother. And he didn't know how he could tell Ron and Hermione that Draco had been given the impossible task of murdering Albus Dumbledore.
Worse, whenever Harry tried to visit the Headmaster's office, to inform him about his concerns on the well-being of Draco's mother, he found the office door shut. McGonagall and the other members of staff were also secretive about his whereabouts. Harry now found he was at a dead-end with no one to help him.
It didn't matter that his detention with McGonagall went well the following Friday. When the next day, Saturday, rolled around, and Katie Bell hosted the Quidditch trials, it didn't matter that Ron made Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He found himself celebrating along with Hermione, whom he suspected had cast a confundus charm on McLaggen in order to confuse him, allowing the quaffle to pass through a hoop during his tryout, and thereby prevent him from gaining the Keeper position himself. It had amused him, nevertheless, as it wasn't every day that Hermione broke the rules.
When Monday came, though, during Defence Against the Dark Arts' class with Professor Snape, Harry finally resolved himself to try and speak to Ron and Hermione. It was providing difficult to speak them alone lately. He couldn't go into the Gryffindor Tower anymore to visit Ron, and it was always crowded in the Great Hall during mealtimes, with Ginny, Neville, Seamus, and countless others attempting to listen in on their conversations.
As soon as the class ended, he led Ron and Hermione through the Grand Hall and outside onto the grounds. All the students were headed to the Great Hall for lunch now, which meant the grounds were empty.
"C'mon, Harry, this better be good," Ron muttered, making to lean against a stone wall. "I bet they're serving bacon and sausages, we're missing out."
Hermione smacked him with her bookbag. "Will you stop thinking with your stomach, Ronald!"
Ron grinned. "I think better on a full stomach."
"Oi. I need you both to listen," Harry said, cutting in. He couldn't handle knowing about Draco's predicament by himself. "And you have to promise me you won't tell anyone what I tell you. Not your parents, not the professors."
Ron frowned. "Harry, mate, you all right? You're asking a lot, there."
"It's about Draco. What I'm about to tell you, it could land him in trouble. A lot of trouble." Harry looked between them, searching for a sign of reluctance. He couldn't risk Ron's parents or a professor turning Draco into the Aurors for interrogation. "I need to know if I can still trust you."
Hermione stepped forward. "Of course you can trust us, Harry. We won't tell anyone."
"Now wait just a minute, 'Mione. This is Malfoy. You hate Malfoy, you're the one that punched him, remember!" Ron shouted. He threw up his hands. "That sneaky Slytherin has got us in more trouble than I can remember."
Hermione sighed. "While I admit I'm not keen on helping him, I do trust Harry. Harry is our best friend, remember, Ron?" She shuffled her bookbag further up her shoulder. "And it's not like you're promising to help Malfoy. Harry is only asking for us to listen to him and not say a word to anyone else."
"Still, it's Malfoy. That bastard's called you a mudblood so many times." Ron turned to stare at Harry, frowning. "Giving you advise to keep that loony from starving is one thing, I mean, nicking food out of the Great Hall for him is nothing. Now you're asking me to keep his secrets? Just how friendly are you getting with Malfoy?"
Harry blushed. "He's...he needs my help."
"Harry, is that all it is?" Hermione asked. "You can tell us."
"He said I'm his mate. He's been trying to keep his distance from me, that's why he won't speak to me." Harry made to sit down on one of the many stone benches, his robes draped around him, laying his arms on his thighs. "He told me a week ago. On Sunday, the day after he and I fought off the dementors."
"Oh, my dear," Hermione said. She sat down beside him, placing her hand on his. "You're his mate? Why didn't you tell us sooner? We could've helped."
He waved his hand. "I was trying to think it over myself. I don't know what it means."
"And how do you know the twerp isn't lying?" Ron asked, folding his arms.
"Ronald -" Hermione screeched.
"He isn't lying," Harry interrupted. "Why would he? It doesn't benefit him if I'm his mate. And if he was lying, he would be trying to get close to me, wouldn't he? He wouldn't constantly be hanging out with Seamus in the common room."
It was really beginning to irritate Harry. The prefect had taken to studying with Seamus alone in their common room, particularly in the evenings, since he could no longer enter his old Slytherin common room. Harry knew he could still study with Hermione, and while she was brilliant, she was a poor replacement. He really did just want to hang out with the Slytherin.
Ron raised his arm and rubbed his forehead. "Bloody hell. Now Harry can't hate the twerp."
"I don't understand," Hermione said. "Why does Harry have to act nicer to Malfoy?"
"You've seen Fleur and Bill, right, Hermione? Harry can't tell Malfoy he hates him or show any kind of hostility, otherwise Malfoy will have a mental breakdown. It's the same for Fleur. She's a quarter-part veela. She'd probably lose it if Bill started throwing hexes her way and whatnot. Funny business, veelas." He snorted. "Harry, please tell me you ain't gonna end up like Fleur and Bill. Please tell me you're only interested in Draco Malfoy as a friend? You're not gonna start dating him, are ya?"
"What? I don't know. He's avoiding me! He apologised for making those Potter Stick Badges, he said he's sorry being a bully. He doesn't want to be one anymore, and now he's ignoring me." Harry clasped his hands together in annoyance. "If you spoke to him, you'd see. He's sorry for everything he did to us, all the name calling, the pranks."
"Okay. Is this really what you called us out here for, Harry?" Ron asked, looking down at him with half a smile on his face. "Because I don't think I'm gonna tell my family that you fancy Malfoy. Merlin, could you imagine what Fred and George would say?"
Harry blushed, his cheeks heating up. He stood and hid his face in his hands briefly, hoping to wipe his embarrassment away, before he made to pace up and down by.
"That isn't why I called you out here, no. It's more serous than...than that." He coughed awkwardly, and continued, "I need you both to promise me you won't tell anyone. I mean it."
"Ah, Merlin, yeah, sure, I promise. You're my best mate, so I won't tell anyone, I swear," Ron replied. "Go on, Harry. Whatever it is can't be any worse than knowing Draco Malfoy wants you to be his new best buddy."
Hermione smiled. "Ron is right, Harry. You're our best friend. We won't tell anyone."
"Thanks, guys." Harry looked around him to check that there wasn't anyone nearby, and then leaned in to his friends. "Draco Malfoy has been given a mission. He told me, Voldemort has ordered him to murder Albus Dumbledore."
Ron stepped back, shaking his head. "My father and a team of aurors conducted a second search of Malfoy Manor just a few days ago. There was nothing there. How do you know that Malfoy is now a Death Eater?"
Harry explained what had happened across the last month to them: from Draco Malfoy showing his Dark Mark to him on the train, that his Mark was bleeding, to learning that Draco was an Occlumens who needed to keep the fact that Harry was his mate a secret from the Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, to learning that Narcissa Malfoy had been tortured when Draco had refused to become a Death Eater at first, and then finally, to being shown the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement and told that Draco intended to help the Death Eaters enter the castle to aid in his mission to kill the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
"Wait, you told Hermione before me that Malfoy has the Dark Mark?"
"I didn't know if I could trust you not to tell your parents, Ron," Harry admitted. "I didn't know if I could trust Hermione, to be honest. I really don't know what to do."
Ron snorted. "You should tell McGonagall or Dumbledore of course. They'll handle it."
"No, McGonagall will only report it to Dumbledore. And he isn't even at the school right now," Harry said.
"Also, Malfoy hasn't technically done anything yet. He hasn't murdered anyone, so the Headmaster wouldn't be able to intervene much," Hermione said, still sitting on the bench, her fingers tapping the stonework in thought. "The best option would be to help Draco get out of this horrible situation, as Harry has been trying to accomplish. That is what Dumbledore would want."
"The only way to help him is to get his mother out of Voldemort's reach," Harry told them. "Once she's out of danger, Draco won't carry out his mission. He doesn't want to hurt anyone."
Ron unfolded his arms. "So, the real question is, how do we rescue Narcissa Malfoy from Malfoy Manor? We can't just use a flying car." He grinned, and turned to wink at Harry. "I doubt Voldemort would let us fly away like your folks did."
Hermione smiled. "Already thinking about helping Harry's new friend, Ron? I thought you'd only want to keep Malfoy's secrets, not get involved."
"Well, I've gotta watch out for my best friend, like." Ron shrugged. "He gets in enough trouble. I mean, really, Harry, are you deranged or something? We thought you fancied Cho last year. Bit of a leap, to snogging the ferret."
Harry blushed. "Ron, we haven't been doing that. Remember, he's avoiding me to protect himself and his mother."
"Yeah, but that's not gonna last." Ron sat on the bench next to Hermione, and grinned at her. "Once we rescue his mother, he'll be all over Harry. They'll be snogging in no time."
Hermione chuckled. "I don't think Harry wants to help Draco just so he can kiss him, Ronald."
"Of course he wants to kiss the twerp. You can see it all over his face," Ron went on, raising his hand to point at Harry, who couldn't stop blushing from embarrassment, as if to prove his point. "Besides, I've had a new wand since second year. If the ferret tries upsetting Harry or you, 'Mione, I'll make him eat slugs this time. You better believe it."
Harry bent over and laughed as Ron continued to rant about how he had his best friend's interests at heart. Harry was glad he'd worked up the courage to tell his friends. He knew he shouldn't have doubted them.