Chapter Eighteen: The Unbreakable Vow

"So, Dumbledore gave Malfoy a mission? Like, an actual mission?"

"Yes. And I don't know what it is. If you ask me once more," Harry said, scowling, "I'll stick this sprout right up -"

"All right, only double-checking!" Ron cut in, laughing. "I can't believe Hermione doesn't know yet; I can't wait to tell her. Especially how you kissed Malfoy on the cheek, she loves all that romantic tripe. Remember how she was when you were trying to date Cho?"

Harry returned his gaze to the unpeeled sprouts in front of him. They were standing alone in the Burrow's kitchen, a mountain of sprouts on the counter in front of them for Mrs Weasley. Snow was fluttering down outside the window.

He hadn't had time to tell Hermione about the events between Draco and himself on the night of Slughorn's party. Not about the innocent kiss, nor about Dumbledore giving the young Malfoy a mission. Hermione and he had only talked a little before she then left to escape to her dormitory, claiming that she was feeling tired. Even the following day, when he was aboard the Hogwarts Express and headed for the Burrow, he hadn't gotten to speak with her.

He had been sitting with Ron and Lavender, though. I couldn't have avoided Ron, I'm spending the holidays with him. He would just have to inform Hermione when they were back at Hogwarts.

"Hermione has been really helpful," he admitted, going over their past conversations. If it hadn't been for her, he no doubt would've asked Draco to Slughorn's Christmas Party and caused a ruckus. "Hey. Can we keep this between you and I for the moment? I want to tell Mrs Weasley and everyone else myself that the Malfoys will be staying at Grimmauld Place."

"You'd better get on it, then. Christmas Eve is tomorrow. The moment the Malfoys step foot in Grimmauld Place, everyone in the family is going to find out." Ron whistled a low tune. "Bloody hell, I can't imagine what Dad will think."

Harry couldn't imagine it either. Only a few months ago, he had claimed that the Malfoy family were up to something; he'd practically insisted that Mr Weasley investigate the family. And now, he intended on dating Draco Malfoy.

I'll explain that Draco has changed. Is changing, he rectified internally. He didn't know how Mrs Weasley nor her children would react. Ginny should be fine with it. She's dating a Slytherin herself.

"How do you think Mrs Weasley will take the news?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Not sure. I don't think she'll be happy, but at least it's not Lucius staying at Grimmauld Place. Mum and Dad hate him." He shrugged. "I think it'll just take some time for them to get used to it, honestly. What you should really be worried about, is if Professor Snape finds out you're keen on his favourite godson. You'll be getting detentions every night after the holidays."

Harry winced. "Yeah, Snape wasn't happy that Draco isn't being forthcoming with him. Snape knows that something is going on; he even threatened to get information from Sirius through Legilimency."

"Good thing you're flooing over tonight, then, ain't it? The slimy slug won't try anything if you're there."

He wondered how Sirius would react to the news that he was interested in a Slytherin, and a Malfoy at that. Sirius was already welcoming Draco and his mother into his home, but would he be okay if Harry dated a Slytherin?

Harry tried to disregard his racing thoughts. He needed to focus on making sure that Draco and his mother got to Grimmauld Place safely, and were made to feel at home. Afterwards, and only afterwards, would he start to think about a potential relationship.

Ron and he carefully continued peeling. At one point, they were interrupted by Fred and George, who proceeded to mock them for having to peel sprouts using the muggle way. Ron informed them that he would be able to use magic at home when he turned seventeen in two months and that he would teach them a lesson. George had laughed at that, and Ron, in retaliation, had flung a sprout in his direction.

Of course, it was in that moment that Mrs Weasley had poked her head into the kitchen and had seen her youngest son flinging sprouts across the room. She had given him a sharp look and shouted, "Ronald Weasley, we don't waste good food in this household! You stop throwing vegetables this instant!"

Hours later, Ron was still complaining that his ears ached from her shouting. Harry had thought it was the best morning ever, though, and he couldn't wait to spend Christmas with them. He did plan to spend it with Sirius at Grimmauld Place, but Sirius had never been much of a cook and Mrs Weasley had promised to cook for both Christmas Eve and Christmas day at Grimmauld Place, noting that the kitchen was much bigger than her own.

Harry wondered how Mrs Weasley would react to knowing that she'd have two extra guests at the table.

I really should tell her.

As the evening rolled around, and long after dinner had passed, everyone had stretched out and entered into small groups or were doing odd jobs. Bill and Fleur were seated together on the couch in front of the fireplace. Fred, George and Ginny had taken to playing a few games of Exploding Snap on the floor. Mr Weasley and Remus were engaged in a conversation about the arrest of Stan Shunpike across the dining room table. Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen, and Ron was feeding the chickens outside.

Harry, who planned on using the Floo to travel to Grimmauld Place in a few short hours, had only just settled down into an armchair by the fireplace with a hot mug of hot chocolate when Fleur leaned across and asked him:

"'Arry, you 'ave a veela living in your dorm with you? Draco Malfoy?"

Harry frowned. "Yeah. That's true, he and I share a dorm."

"My parents are in correspondence with 'im. 'e is asking them a great many questions about career positions for veelas."

It seemed so absurd. "Why are you parents in correspondence with him?"

"Oh, 'e is required to check in, 'Arry. Ministry requirement. My parents were selected as his mentors." She snorted. "This is not the case in other countries, no. At Beauxbatons, veelas do not need mentors. Draco Malfoy would have been better off not attending Hogwarts."

Harry did not reply, not liking the idea of the prefect attending another school. He quickly finished his hot chocolate, rose from his seat and made his way to the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was wiping down the counter surfaces with a damp cloth.

"Mrs Weasley, can I talk to you? It's about Draco Malfoy."

"Now, Harry, if you're about to tell me he's up to something -"

Harry waved his hands, stopping her. "No, no. It's not that. Well, not really. It's a long story." He leaned against the counter, and exhaled, not knowing how to explain it to Ron's mother, who he had always respected, ever since he had first met her on King's Cross station when he was just eleven years old.

Mrs Weasley put down the cloth. "Harry, dear, whatever it is, you are a part of this family. If you're in any trouble, you can tell me."

"That's the problem, I'm not the one in trouble. I - I found out what Draco is up to." He gripped the counter edge and let out a choked sob. "Draco was made a Death Eater. Forcibly. Voldemort tortured his mother - and Draco, too, I think. Draco showed me his Dark Mark on the train before we got to Hogwarts, and he told me that Voldemort blackmailed him - tortured him - into becoming a Death Eater, and then gave him a mission on top of that."

"Whoa, slow down, , dear," she said. "A mission? What mission?"

"Yes. If Draco...if he doesn't complete it, he'll die. Draco was tasked to kill Dumbledore, and he doesn't want to but Voldemort will kill his mother and him if he doesn't. Mrs Weasley, Draco is trying so hard to find a way out of it."

"Oh, oh - why didn't you tell us sooner?" Mrs Weasley said, voice wobbling. "Are you absolutely sure? Oh, why didn't you tell us sooner, Harry?"

"I told Sirius. And Ron and Hermione, they know. I've been trying to find a way to get Draco and his mother away from the Manor, out of Voldemort's clutches," he went on. "Voldemort isn't staying there, but Bellatrix and her husband are. Narcissa doesn't have anywhere to go because none of the Pureblood families will take her in, at risk of angering others and putting their own lives in danger. I've asked Sirius if he'd be willing to let Draco and his mother stay with him."

"And what has Sirius said? It take it that he's agreed?"

"Sirius did. Narcissa and Draco are due to arrive by portkey tomorrow at 7 a.m."

Mrs Weasley looked utterly bewildered then. "Tomorrow? By portkey? How did Narcissa come by a legal portkey in her situation?"

"Mundungus got me one," Harry said sheepishly.

Mrs Weasley put a hand to her forehead, and then rushed to the doorway and called out, "Arthur! Arthur! Get in here. And bring Ron!" Mr Weasley came dashing into the kitchen, holding a freshly peeled orange in one hand. Ron followed in a moment later, holding onto bucket of eggs. "Listen to this - our children are making deals with Mundungus Fletcher!"

"Harry, you told her!" Ron exclaimed. He put down the bucket.

"Mundungus? What is going on exactly?" Arthur asked, looking awfully serious.

Mrs Weasley went on to tell her husband what Harry had informed her. Fred, George and Ginny appeared in the kitchen doorway at some point during her explanation to listen in.

"Harry Potter, have you been making shady deals with Mundungus Fletcher?" Mr Weasley said by the end of the explanation, outraged. His cheeks had reddened into the exact colour of his hair. "Ron, why didn't you tell me about this?"

Fred and George were sniggering. Ron looked angrily at them, and then turned to his father, "Dad, it wasn't me. It was all Harry's doing. He was the one who hired Mundungus. It's all legal, so there's no harm done. Not really. Mundungus had someone in the transport office who owes him a favour, apparently. And we're rescuing Malfoy and his mother. It's for a good cause."

Mr Weasley groaned. "I wouldn't call helping the family of Lucius Malfoy a good cause. Why can't other Slytherin families help them? The Zabini's, the Nott's, those sort."

"Are you saying that only Slytherins should help them, Dad?" Ginny asked abruptly, folding her arms. "Why can't we help them?"

Harry wanted to grin back at her, then. I knew she'd be on my side.

"It would definitely make things easier if we stayed out of it," Mr Weasley said.

"Well, you can't. Because I'm dating Blaise Zabini. And his mother would never help Narcissa Malfoy out, not if meant putting herself at risk." She snorted. "I imagine the Notts are even less inclined to help Draco Malfoy, considering he's not fully human now."

"You have to wonder if he's even a pureblood?" Fred said absentmindedly.

"Both of you, I won't hear anymore of it. Ginny, we will discuss your new...relationship later. Fred, you will not question the lineage of Draco Malfoy. That poor boy is going through enough," Mrs Weasley ordered. Both Ginny and Fred went silent, looking quite scolded. "And you listen, Arthur," she continued, "Draco and his mother will be arriving at Grimmauld Place tomorrow. If Sirius - of all wizards - is prepared to welcome them, then we will be too."

"Yes. Of course, Molly, dear," Mr Weasley replied appraisingly.

"Good. I still fully intend on holding dinner there for both Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I expect you all to join. It will be civil and pleasant, and you'll be sympathetic, considering what Draco and his mother have been through. I'm sure you all remember when Sirius was tortured under the Cruciatus Curse by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange? Well, the same was done to the Malfoys."

"We'll be fine, Mum," Fred said.

George nodded. "Best behaviour, we swear."

"Good, that's what I thought. Now, I think it's time we were all getting to bed. Lots to do tomorrow. Busy day." She waved her hands and began to usher everyone out of the kitchen. "Harry, dear, a moment?"

Harry waited until he was the only one left before he asked, "Are you sure you're fine hosting two dinners there, Mrs Weasley? I know you don't like Narcissa and her son -"

"As long as they're civil, I will be. I think we'll all get along fine, anyway, given the circumstances." She gave him a brief smile. "It's you I'm concerned with, Harry. Oh, why ever didn't you tell us sooner? I know you hold your godfather dearly, but did you really think that I wouldn't have helped you? Or Arthur?" She approached him and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "You've kept such a great secret. I would've liked it if you'd told Arthur and I, too."

Harry felt his eyes becoming wet with tears. "I'm sorry."

"You can always come to Arthur and I. You know that," she said, wrapping her arms around him and petting his back.

"I didn't know who to tell. Ron told me, if I told you and Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley could get in trouble with the Ministry. I wanted to keep you out of it for as long as possible." He broke away from her. "Draco is my roommate. We've...we're friends, I think. And I don't even know how he's doing right now. What if Bellatrix found out about the portkey?"

"Now, now, poppet, best not to think on what could happen. You've given Draco a wonderful gift. The opportunity to save himself and his mother." Mrs Weasley patted Harry's cheek. "Why don't I make you another hot chocolate and then you can be on your way. I doubt Sirius Black has even made up the beds yet for his new guests. You'd best make sure Grimmauld Place looks habitable for their arrival, Harry."

He nodded and accepted a second mug of hot chocolate. When he returned to the lounge, he found that Bill and Fleur had turned in for bed early. Fred, George, and Ginny, too, surprisingly. Remus and Mr Weasley were speaking over the dining table. Ron was sat on the vacant couch, holding a steaming mug of eggnog.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, wandering over to him.

Ron grunted. "You off soon?"

Harry sat down. "Yeah."

"Fred, George and Ginny are talking upstairs. I doubt think Ginny cares much about the Malfoys staying at Grimmauld Manor, but Dad, Fred and George aren't all that keen." Ron drank a hefty gulp from his mug. "Can't say I'm too happy. Lucius gave Ginny that book back in second year, remember? Tom Riddle's Diary."

"Yeah, I remember. I was the one who stuck a Basilisk's tooth through it." Harry huffed. "And that was Lucius. Not Draco or his mother."

"Maybe. Do you think Draco knew at the time that his Dad would do that?"

He looked down at his hot chocolate. "I don't know. Probably not."

Ron hummed lightly, obviously not convinced. Harry couldn't say he was. I'll ask Draco, he swore to himself. I'll ask him if he knew what his father has been up to all these years.

Once he had finished with his drink, he left the mug in the kitchen's sink and then went to the fireplace in the living room, where he bid goodbye to Remus Lupin and the Weasleys.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "I'll be over early to start dinner. The rest of the family will be over later, around lunchtime. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"Yes, dear. Lunchtime, right on the dot," Mr Weasley said, despite sounding a bit perturbed.

Ron grinned. "See you tomorrow, mate."

Harry nodded, and turned around. He grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and, as he threw the powder down, he said, "Twelve Grimmauld Place."

A flash of green passed over his vision, blinding him for a moment. He inhaled without realising, breathing in smoke and ash, and bent over in a coughing fit. Regaining his standing, Harry looked out and realised he was now standing in the fireplace of Grimmauld Place's kitchen. He stepped out into the cold room.

"...Stop being foolish, Severus! Stop worrying, too. You'll make yourself ill, and then I'll be the one visiting you in St Mungo's."

That was the voice of his godfather, Harry was sure of it. He wandered past the kitchen table and then headed up the narrow staircase for the ground floor. At the end of the staircase, he spotted Sirius Black and Professor Snape standing near the front door.

"Only you, Sirius Black, who blunders into every fight without thought, who befriends werewolves, would advise another wizard to not worry." Snape laughed grimly. There were few times that Harry had heard the professor laugh, if ever. "I took the Unbreakable Vow for Draco. I have every right to feel troubled."

Harry remained in the doorway to the staircase, trying to keep his breathing steady. He didn't want to consider what Snape would do to him if he were discovered listening in.

"I know, but you'll not help anyone if you're falling asleep. Get some rest, we'll talk tomorrow, Severus."

Harry heard the front door open and slam shut. He leaned forward to see if Snape had left, making the floorboard beneath him creak. Loudly. He cringed, and watched as Sirius took out his wand and swiftly turned around.

"Blimey, Harry," his godfather said, spotting him. He pocketed his wand. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long?" he replied uncertainly, thankful that at least Snape had left the house. The Professor would have him drinking Truth Potion if he even suspected that Harry had been lying. Sirius wouldn't be that strict.

"Long enough to hear what Severus and I were discussing, I bet. What exactly did you hear?"

Harry wished he had arrived later at Grimmauld Place now. "I didn't mean to listen in, but I heard you talking from the kitchen so I came up. And I didn't think Snape would appreciate seeing me." He clambered up the last step to stand in the entrance hall. "I overheard Snape saying he took a Vow for Draco? What's an Unbreakable Vow?"

"Oh, that's - we should talk about that." Sirius made to walk up the staircase to enter the drawing room on the first floor, Harry following him close behind. Inside, Harry took a seat on one of the two sofas in the room. The Black family tree rested on the wall opposite. Sirius chose a spot on the other sofa. "First," his godfather began solemnly, "You should really have told us you were present. You have put me in a rather complicated predicament."

Harry grew annoyed at that. "How? I didn't mean to overhear."

"You didn't. But you now know something that only few are privy to: myself, Severus, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Dumbledore." He crossed his legs over one another. "And you know that Severus is treating my mind with Legilimency. My Occlumency is poor, awful. He'll find out that you were made aware of the Unbreakable Vow he has taken. It is a private matter for him, Harry."

"I'm sorry." Harry was sorry, but he was also curious. If the matter concerned Draco, then he felt like he should know. "Why is Bellatrix involved, though? If it's going to affect Draco and his mother escaping the Manor tomorrow -"

"Draco and Narcissa will be safe. Their coming here isn't the concern. The worry is, Severus took the Vow on behalf of Draco months ago. You - I take it you don't know what an Unbreakable Vow is?"

Harry shook his head.

"I thought so. You do know that Draco was tasked with murdering Dumbledore, however?" Harry nodded. "Severus agreed months ago - before the start of the year, even - that should Draco fail in his mission, he would fulfil the mission for him. Kill Dumbledore. He made the Vow with Narcissa, and Bellatrix was present as a witness apparently..."

Sirius went on speaking but his words didn't register with Harry, who was having trouble trying to process what Sirius was telling him. It seemed bizarre, unfair. Harry had found a way to save Draco from going down that path. Now it didn't matter. Professor Snape was going to kill Dumbledore anyway.

"How do you even know?" Harry asked, interrupting whatever else Sirius had been in the midst of explaining. "Did Snape tell you?"

It struck him then, Snape was working for the Death Eaters. All those times he had believed Snape had been working for Voldemort and yet he had been dissuaded by others - he had actually been right.

Professor Snape was working alongside Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You don't know the full story, Harry. Nor do I." He rested his hands on his legs. "Albus Dumbledore trusts Severus, for whatever reason, and Severus trusts Dumbledore. The only reason I found out is due to a mishap with the Legilimency Severus performed on me last week. I will not go into the details, but I managed to get into his memories. And I strongly believe that Dumbledore supports Snape."

"Supports him? Dumbledore wants to die?"

Harry had managed to access Snape's memories last year during one of their Occlumency lessons, so that didn't interest him. Dumbledore knowing that Professor Snape wanted to murder him, though, and yet still wanted to keep the professor on at the school, that struck Harry as absurd.

"Want? I doubt that. But I do think that the Headmaster is ill. There are a few rumours going in the Order, have you heard? Dumbledore has a black hand." Harry nodded. He hadn't thought much about it, to be honest. "Haven't you wondered why he hasn't healed it yet? His hand is cursed, Harry. And it's likely spreading and will kill him."

Harry got out of his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, and wandered over to the wall that bore the Black family tree. "Isn't there a way Snape can get out it?" he asked, turning around. "He can't want to kill Albus Dumbledore."

"Are you asking Snape to break an Unbreakable Vow, Harry?"

"Is it possible?"

"No, you can't break one. That's why it's called Unbreakable - if you break it, you die." Sirius stood up, his face unusually stern. "Severus will die if he doesn't fulfil the Vow. He took it because he believed Draco would be incapable of killing the Headmaster. Draco Malfoy is not a killer, I'm sure you can see that."

Harry felt awful then. He almost wanted Snape to die, if only so that he could keep both Draco and Dumbledore alive.

"Does Draco know?" he asked tentatively. Professor Snape was Draco's godfather, after all.

"No, he does not. Will you tell him?"

"I can't keep it a secret." Harry wasn't going to lie to the prefect, not when Draco had been so forthcoming with him. "Why don't you want Draco to know?"

"Should Snape back out, he will die. And Draco won't react well to the prospect of that, therefore, no one has told him." Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "The decision ultimately comes down to who dies, Harry. Dumbledore or Severus. And remember, Albus is already dying from his curse."

"But I shouldn't be the one to tell Draco," he said, glaring at his godfather. "You or Narcissa should! He's coming to live here, thinking that he'll finally be free of the mission Voldemort gave him. Except, Snape is taking over."

"Albus trusts Severus, surely you see that. Have a little faith in the Headmaster's plans." Sirius gently pushed his shoulder. "All right, now, the Malfoys will be here come seven a.m. Don't you want to see where everyone will be sleeping?"

Sirius took him outside of the drawing room. He explained that Ginny and Hermione were welcome to share the room again on the first floor landing like they had done so before, although he confessed that he doubted Hermione would be making an appearance, given that she and Ron were no longer on friendly terms.

Harry was to take the bedroom on the second floor landing, which contained two twin beds. Ron had shared the room with him last year, so he couldn't help but wonder if Ron would do so again. Ron won't stay the night tomorrow, no. Draco can have the other bed. He was not certain about that, however.

He'd grown so used to sleeping in the same room with Draco. And the idea of sharing a room - without the presence of their dormmates - made his stomach twist in uneasiness and excitement. He might want his own room, though. Harry hoped he wouldn't.

Narcissa would have her own room on the third floor landing. There were three bedrooms on the third floor: one previously used by Fred and George; the second, used by Mr and Mrs Weasley; and the third, once owned by Sirius' mother, Walburga Black, recently refurbished to house the hippogriff Buckbeak. It was now empty. Harry learned that, while Sirius had been staying in the hospital, he'd had Buckbeak rechristened as Witherwings and given to Hagrid to look after.

Sirius had reckoned that Narcissa would not chose Walburga's room, but instead, the one used by Fred and George. It was spacious and well-looking, exceptionally now since Sirius had transfigured the two twin beds into a double bed. Warm green walls. Brown carpet. A few bits of furniture. It was enough for his cousin, Sirius had claimed.

It wasn't until eleven p.m. that Harry went to bed. And it was well past that when he fell asleep, with spiralling thoughts of Dumbledore's demise refusing to leave his mind.