Author's note: I am really sorry to keep you waiting for over half a year, I've had some really stressful times (exams, family trouble, you name it) in addition to my PC letting me down by which I mean not letting me use the internet. At all. So I had to to it all on my phone, which is a real pain. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me for the eternally long wait and I think most of my problems are solved so it won't be another half year...
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the characters or the world of this fic (otherwise I'd have gotten a new pc immediately)
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Harry stared at the parchment. He knew nothing about Norse mythology. Well not absolutely nothing. He did, at least, know some of the names of the gods, like Thor and Odin, but aside from that, he was absolutely clueless, so he did the one thing he didn't want to do right now.
"Hermione, do you know anything about Norse mythology? Nidhogg wrote that that's where he got his fake-name from."
Hermione turned to look at him. "So I assume now you want my help in finding out who he is?"
"Uhm, yeah… Alright, I'm sorry that I snapped back then, but I really didn't want you to tell any of the teachers. Please, this is important to me," he added.
She sighed. "Okay, just let me think a bit. The name Nidhogg does ring a bell…"
She furrowed her brows and Harry could almost hear her brain working, her eyes shooting around as if looking on screens only she could see.
"I got it!" she exclaimed. Her eyes widened. "No wait, that can't be right…"
"What can't be right? Hermione, tell me!"
She looked at him. "I think you'd better find out by yourself… You need to look up creatures of Norse mythology and translate the creature that Nidhogg is into Latin, that's all you'll hear from me about that. But it's going to be a little surprising, that's for sure."
Harry sighed. "You won't tell me, will you? Well, thanks for narrowing it down, anyway."
When they were about to leave the train, Harry stopped Fred and George to talk to them.
He held out the bag with gold he'd won at the Triwizard Tournament, and their eyes widened.
"Harry, we can't take that! You won it, it's yours. And besides, we-"
"Yes you can take it. Listen, I don't want the gold, it reminds me that Cedric died in there. Besides, you want to start a joke shop, so you'll need some starting capital, won't you, especially since Bagman can't pay you. The only thing you have to do is promise me that you'll buy some new dress robes for Ron, and gloves for herbology.
Oh, and don't tell your mother, she'd rip my head off if she knew I'd be giving you money for a joke shop."
Fred opened his mouth to protest, but Harry stopped him. "Listen, I've learned some serious curses, and I'm serious about getting rid of this gold, so take it."
"Well, if you're really serious about this, we've got no choice, right? So… thank you, Harry." George said and hesitantly took the bag with the golden coins.
The Dursleys were waiting at the station and brought him home, none of them uttering a single word, which Harry was perfectly fine with since he needed time to think, anyway.
After some food that hardly deserved to be called dinner, Harry went to his room and started searching for books on Norse mythology, but the Dursleys only owned books about finances, gardening and so on, and two or three novels.
Since he wasn't getting anywhere with those, he decided to visit the neighboring town's library the next day, and went to bed.
He was at the graveyard again. The air was wet, and cold like the voice he barely heard. "Kill the spare," followed by a familiar voice that shouted the words that had ended so many lives. A flash of green light erupted from Wormtail's wand and hit Cedric square in the chest.Harry screamed as he watched the scene once more, unable to move the slightest bit."CEDRIC! No, no, no, please don't be dead!"Harry's body unfroze and he stumbled over to Cedric. He shook the older boy, tears streaming down his face, ignoring Wormtail behind him. Cedric didn't move, but Harry didn't care. He didn't care that Cedric had been hit by the death curse, didn't care that he wasn't breathing, that his heart wasn't beating, that he had experienced this before and knew that the Hufflepuff was dead.
Harry shot up in his bed, bathed in sweat, his eyes wet from the tears he'd cried.
His scar was burning again, but it wasn't the hellish pain that had made him lose his consciousness and, according to Madam Pomfrey, could have killed him.
He looked at his forearm, to be sure there wasn't anything wrong, and exhaled. The scar from Wormtail's knife had faded and looked as though it was several years old, thanks to Madam Pomfrey. She was usually able to make scars vanish completely, but apparently, something about his blood being used to resurrect Voldemort had prevented that.
Harry considered writing to Nidhogg, but he suspected that he would be disappointed that he didn't know of his identity yet, so he kept that for later. Instead, he decided to study for Defense Against the Dark Arts, even though he could only study the theory of those spells. He thought, for a moment, that maybe he should get the Daily Prophet, but he quickly discarded the thought. Uncle Vernon would just get beyond angry if owls started to fly to their house daily, and he didn't want to anger the short-tempted man who despised magic more than anything else.
He didn't notice the time flying by until he realized that the sun had risen already, and the Dursleys were getting up. He jumped up to quickly wash himself and clean his teeth before his "family" could occupy the bathroom. They often did that, in order to be able to scold him for being late (there was no breakfast for him if he was late, of course), and he had learned to be ready when they got up.
Harry considered writing to Sirius, but after the Ministry had once mistaken Dobby's elf magic for Harry's, he didn't want to risk Sirius' spells to be falsely linked to him, especially since he couldn't just say that it was his godfather. He didn't want Sirius to harm them, anyway. In his opinion, they weren't worth it, so he just kept threatening them with his "dangerous and mentally unstable" godfather, but the threats were losing power. Something would have to happen, but Harry had no idea what. Maybe he could send Sirius to them when he was at Hogwarts and tell him to- No, that was just wrong. Sirius was his godfather, not some kind of weapon he could command.
At breakfast, nobody said a word to Harry, which was fine by him, though he didn't like the looks Dudley and Vernon gave him. They were always unkind, of course, but rarely so… vicious. Harry wondered what the reason was, because he didn't remember doing anything to piss them off. What he understood even less, though, were the almost pitiful looks he got from Petunia, which only got to him when Dudley and Vernon couldn't see them. Apparently, Petunia knew something and didn't wholeheartedly agree with her mustached husband, but didn't dare to outright defy him.
After breakfast, Harry stood up, washed the dishes (better to do it of his own will than to have them ask for it), then he announced, "I'm going to the library today, so I'll be out of your eyes the better part of today."
"What do you need to go to the library for, boy?" Vernon asked, his eyes narrowed.
"Uhm… to hopefully find some books about something I need to research."
"I don't think that you'll find books about your freakishness in a library for normal people, but if it means you're out of the house for some time, go," Vernon said, with new levels of disgust in his voice as he called Harry a freak (not that Harry cared anymore, but this time, it was almost as if there was something else Vernon wanted to say with that.
'But that's impossible, how should he know of this,' Harry thought. Vernon just couldn't know that he wasn't straight. Because if he knew, he wouldn't be quiet about it. He would straight out try to murder him, or at least throw him out and break some of his bones.
That much he knew, because when he'd been younger, before Hagrid had told him that he was a wizard, the Dursleys had been in London (Harry had been forced to tag along, of course, because they didn't want to leave him alone, to play with Dudley's toys). Vernon had seen two guys who, in his opinion, were gay (they hadn't even been kissing, just holding hands), and he'd practically exploded. Harry still vividly remembered how his Uncle had shouted at the top of his lungs, and after one of them had told him, quite explicitly, what he thought of Vernon and that he should shut the hell up, Vernon had left Petunia's side and charged at them, trying to beat the hell out of them. Unfortunately for him, however, one of the guys must have been doing martial arts or something, because he had easily dodged and deflected Vernon's blows and, after Vernon still hadn't stopped, he'd punched him right under the ribcage. Harry later learned that it was called solar plexus.
Anyway, Harry knew roughly what to expect from Vernon, and he wasn't keen on experiencing it. He went to his room and took a pen and the enchanted parchment with him.
When he went down the stairs to leave, Vernon gripped his shoulder. "Only to the library and straight back, got it? You're not going to meet any of your freak friends, or I'll throw you out."
Harry nodded and left, now wondering even more what was going on with Vernon.
The library was huge, and Harry had only been there a few times, when the Dursleys didn't have an excuse to keep him from going. He searched for Norse mythology and, after about a half hour of searching, he finally found what he was looking for. The library had a whole shelf only on Norse mythology, and so Harry spent another hour looking for some kind of list of mythological creatures until he found one he could use.
"WHAT??!" Harry shouted in shock, the Latin dictionary lying open in front of him. The librarian hissed an annoyed "quiet!" which Harry barely registered. Because there, in the dictionary, as translation of the word "dragon", it said "draco".
Harry almost fell over (which is saying something, since he was sitting on the floor).
'It's Malfoy! But… it can't be him, he's a slimy little git!' Harry thought, but then something clicked in his mind. He hadn't seen anyone else walk away that day at the lake because it had been Malfoy. Dobby not only didn't want to tell him, he couldn't.
Then Harry remembered Malfoy being kind of polite towards Hagrid, Malfoy being there but not bullying him, and then, with a start, he remembered the night in that empty classroom. Malfoy had practically put his reputation into his hands and actually told the truth!
But then he realized that Malfoy had lied to him. He took out the parchment and pen.
You lied to me, Malfoy! What was that about loyalty being a trait of your house? As far as I know, Slytherin traits are cunning and pride, and ambition!
Why did you do that? Do you actually want to lie to everyone? Or just to me?
But then, why would you tell me who you are? Is this one of your games, just a bit of fun on my expense?
Well, whatever. I promised to give you a chance, no matter your identity, and I won't go back on my word. But you have a heck of a lot to explain.
Anyway, in case it's not just a game, thank you for trusting me, especially considering who your father is. I won't tell Ron, but I don't know what Hermione will do, since she knows, too. I asked her if she knew anything about Norse mythology, and she put it together but refused to tell me. I don't think she's gonna tell Ron, though. She's good at keeping things secret.
-Harry
PS: I hope you'll manage to get the CD player to work, and that it doesn't blow up in your face again.
Harry paused, rereading what he wrote. Would it seem weird? Should he be harsher because Malfoy had lied to him, or should he even stop writing to him altogether?
He shook his head. No, to stop writing was not an option just yet, especially if Malfoy really had been telling the truth about himself except for the loyalty lie. Harry sighed and activated the parchment's enchantment, watching his writing disappear.
He wondered whether he should wait for Malfoy's response, but then he remembered Vernon's threat and decided to not give him any reason to lose his temper.
When he finally arrived in number 4, Privet Drive, Petunia was about to leave with Dudley, so Harry hurried inside to reduce the chance of Vernon stopping him. Harry couldn't deny that he was scared of his uncle, especially since he couldn't use magic to defend himself. Fortunately, Vernon didn't seem to care much, and Harry quickly closed the door behind him and locked it so Vernon wouldn't follow him into his room.
Draco's POV
'Well, that went better than expected,' Draco thought. The parchment was spread in front of him, Harry's words fading slowly.
He'd been afraid that Harry had stopped writing because he'd found out who he was, but whatever had kept him from writing, that wasn't it.
Harry,
I didn't exactly lie, but I might have interpreted my house's values a little freely. You're right, loyalty isn't one of our core values, but fraternity is. We're loyal to our own, like a family. We have to, because one thing the other houses share is their dislike for Slytherin.
I'm sorry for misleading you a little, but I really meant it. I might not be completely open about my true loyalty just yet, but as soon as there's a way for me to leave my father for good, I'll do it. Until then, I can't risk to openly show support for you because he's gonna learn about it.
Also thank you for giving me this second chance, it means a lot to me.
I didn't get to continue my experiments yet, my father's watching me way more closely than usual, but I guess that's to be expected, now that You-Know-Who is back. How's it going with the muggles?
I hope they at least consider what you've gone through, but the way you described them, I doubt it.
By the way, I think you should be careful outside, my father's acting like there's some kind of plan.
-Draco
PS: Honestly, if Weasley can keep it to himself and not tell anyone else, I don't mind about him learning about me. Do you think he can keep his mouth shut?
He tapped the parchment with his wand and watched his writing disappear. He hadn't altered it this time, since Harry now knew he was Nidhogg. It was a little risky, since someone might get their hands on the parchment, but if that happened, it wouldn't matter any more. Not to mention that it was very unlikely that Harry would fall into the hands of the death eaters, let alone that they would bother to check a random piece of parchment.
"Draco! What are you doing in there? Don't you have anything to do?"
"I'm studying, father. And unless you want me to cause suspicion, which would reflect on you, I need to study. Doesn't the Dark Lord want to stay unnoticed for as long as possible?" Draco retorted.
Lucius' gaze became icy. "Are you threatening to expose me and the Dark Lord, boy?"
Draco's heart skipped a beat. "No, of course not. But obviously it would be suspicious if my grades dropped, and since our family doesn't have the best reputation when it comes to association with the Dark Lord, many would believe Dumbledore and Potter. And if the ministry's view on the matter shifted, the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to stay hidden, would he? So obviously I have to continue like nothing happened, don't I?"
Lucius considered his words for a few seconds, then he nodded sharply.
"Then you will study. But don't forget where your loyalties lie. It would be a shame if the Malfoy line lost a member, wouldn't it?"
He turned around and left. Draco exhaled shakily. Never before had his father threatened him so openly and harshly, not even after the incident with the incinerated nightstand.
'At least he's going to let me alone again, and I don't have to spend much time around death eaters,' he thought, shivering as he imagined having to sit beside convinced followers of You-Know-Who.
He really admired his mother's spirit. She'd never taken the Dark Mark, and she still hadn't given in. Sure, she didn't openly disagree with her husband, but if she didn't disagree with him at all, she would have told him about Draco trying to enchant a muggle machine instead of helping him hide it from Lucius.
Since he'd told his father that he was studying, Draco had no choice but to actually do so, and the evening came way sooner than he expected.
During dinner, Lucius talked about Muggleborns (he called them Mudbloods, of course), and about how they were "unworthy of magic" and should be sent to Azkaban for "stealing magic from Purebloods". Draco had to stop himself from rolling his eyes multiple times and almost spoke up when Lucius complained about Halfbloods, who, in his opinion, were even worse than Muggleborns because they were "half-breeds and their magical parents were traitors to their own kind", but his mother shot him a meaningful look. She was right, of course.
Calling his father out on something he had this strong an opinion about was downright suicidal, so Draco bit his tongue and just nodded along.
Thankfully, Lucius didn't have anything specific to talk about, so Draco was free to go after he was finished. He went to his room and took out the parchment. Harry had responded yet, so Draco continued experimenting with the CD-player, but it still refused to work.
'Maybe Flitwick was right,' he thought. 'Maybe this is too complicated.'
He shook his head. No, he was going to get this damn CD-player to work. Harry believed that he could do it, and Draco intended to prove him right.
After a while he gave up for the day because he just couldn't fully concentrate on his task. His mind always slipped away, crafting plans to somehow build his own life, so he'd be able to leave sooner and preferably not be hunted down for his treason to his family. He decided to make inquiries to his mother's family, but to get word to them would be tricky, and getting their answer unnoticed even more so.
The only possibility he saw was passing it on to either Harry or his own mother, but he didn't know if Harry even knew Andromeda, and as far as he knew his mother hadn't had contact to her sister in ages, so Draco would have to come up with something better.
The next morning, Draco was startled awake by one of the house elves, which was a good thing, considering he'd fallen asleep at his desk with no school work to be seen. The elf apologised profusely, and although Draco said it was fine, the elf grabbed a large book and started to hit himself with it.
"Accio!" Draco shouted, and the spell ripped the book from the hands of the house elf. "I told you that I'm not upset about being startled out of sleep, so stop punishing yourself for it. That's an order, understood?"
"Yes young Master, sir," the house elf replied and finally stopped trying to injure himself, cleaning up Draco's room in less than two minutes.
Only after he'd showered, Draco was awake enough to realise that he hadn't seen the elf before, and his heartbeat quickened. Had Lucius bought the house elf to spy on him? What would the new elf tell his master, and what would Lucius make of it?
He went looking for the elf and subtly questioned him, but in the end, the elf had either lied to him, or there was no reason other than increased work for the house elves that had caused Lucius to buy a new servant. Draco exhaled and went to breakfast. Lucius had gone to the ministry, so it was only his mother and him.
"Is everything alright, Draco? You seem distracted lately."
Draco nearly choked on his drink. If she had noticed, had Lucius too?
"Yes mother, it's not much of a big deal. I was merely thinking about things concerning Hogwarts," he replied, but she looked directly into his eyes and he knew that she was looking through his mask.
He sighed. "Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you. Do you keep in touch with your sister?"
Whatever Narcissa had been expecting, this wasn't it.
"I didn't completely cut off all contact with her, no. Could you tell me why you are asking me about her?"
"I've only been wondering whether she might be able to answer one of my questions, one which I didn't want to burden you with." He replied evasively.
She studied his face and nodded. "I can arrange for her to meet with you in Hogsmeade, if that's not too late." "That's… a long time, but it's alright, the question is not that urgent. Thank you, mother."
"Come on little dragon, you don't need to hide your self from me. And I can tell when I'm actually speaking to you and when I'm only speaking to your mask. After all, I showed you how to turn your face into a mask. So tell me, and don't worry about burdening me, what do you need to know from my sister? Maybe I can help you with whatever it is, Draco."
He looked her in the eyes and saw her concern, her wish to help him, and for a second, he wanted to tell her, to confide in her and share his disdain and fear of Lucius and his growing friendship with Harry, but then he caught himself.
'No, it wouldn't do to worry her. If everything works out, he can't reach me ever again, and if not then it won't matter because I'll likely be dead, anyway.'
"Thank you mother, but I don't want to burden you with something as trivial as this. But I'm glad that I won't need my mask when it's just you."
Narcissa sighed. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
She went over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She patted him on the head, just like she used to when he'd been younger, then she left, probably to contact Andromeda, so Draco went back to his room and was delighted to find that finally, Harry had responded to him again.
I don't know whether I should be angry that you mislead me, or I should feel sorry that you're treated differently because of the house you're in…
"Interpreted my house's values a bit freely" indeed, but I guess I'm just gonna have to deal with it, don't I?
Are you telling me that your father doesn't trust you, his own son? Wow, that's harsh.
The Dursleys and caring for me? That's a good one, but I guess you know that yourself, don't you, after all I wrote to you about them. They're afraid I'm going to damage their reputation by being seen or something, and they're trying to keep me from getting information even from the muggle news, it's ridiculous.
Thank you for the warning, I was planning on wandering around at night and looking for places that scream 'DANGER'. Seriously, does everyone think I'm looking for trouble? It just finds me like I'm a giant magnet for it, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Though I guess if they're actually planning something, I should probably be grateful that you warned me? So thank you, without any sarcasm this time. I don't suppose you know anything more about their plans? Nobody tells me anything in their letters, all I get is 'can't tell you', 'promised not to tell you, sorry' and, the all-time favourite, 'Dumbledore said I mustn't write anything about it'.
The only consolation is that if the muggle news don't say anything about weird occurrences and phenomenons, it can't be that bad, right?
-Harry
PS: So long as he doesn't tell me anything about what's going on, I won't even think about telling him who you are, anyway. And not even if he does, since I'm sure he might let something slip to Fred and George, and from there on, it would get very complicated.
The coolness in Harry's first words was apparent even in writing, and it stung Draco, but he told himself that had he not led Harry a few steps down the wrong path, he might have found out on his own, and too soon for Draco's liking.
He took out his feather and started writing.
They don't even let you hear anything about what's going on in the muggle world? What's the reasoning behind that?? What harm could it do if you were aware?
But you wouldn't hear anything about You-Know-Who, anyway. From what father says, he's trying to stay hidden as long as possible, to quietly recruit supporters. I think the two groups of magical creatures he wants most are Giants and Dementors, and he can promise more to the Dementors than the ministry can, that's for sure.
Oh, if my father knew how much I know, and am telling you… well, doesn't really matter because he doesn't know and won't know until it's too late.
I have to admit it's a bit frightening to let anyone know my true ambition, but it's also really exciting to have someone to talk to about it. And if all goes according to plan, this'll be the last year for me to spend at Hogwarts wearing the Malfoy mask.
I understand that it's frustrating that nobody tells you anything, but owls have been intercepted before, and they likely don't want to risk the Death Eaters knowing what exactly they know. I'll see how much more I can find out, but you have to swear that you won't write it in a letter and send it by owl or anything else that can be interrupted, or they might wonder how you could know so much, and I might have been behaving a little bit suspicious already.
-Draco
Tapping the parchment and watching the writing disappear, Draco continued his experiments with the CD player, despite his growing frustration.
Harry's POV
'I wonder if this bloody heat might somehow be the work of the Death Eaters', Harry thought.
There was not the slightest hint of a cloud as far as he could see, and the sun was shining just as mercilessly as it had been the last few weeks. The earth was completely dry and hard as stone, and most of the plants had dried out already. The trees had already started shedding their leaves and if they weren't being watered, they'd probably dry within less than a week. And to top it all off, Hermione and Ron still didn't write anything important in their letters, so Harry still had to eavesdrop on the muggle news.
He'd been hoping that Draco would be able to keep him informed of matters in the wizarding world, but all that the Slytherin had been able to find out was that Fudge had more or less taken control of The Daily Prophet and was using it for a massive slandering campaign against Professor Dumbledore and himself. Sure, that was a big problem, but Harry was more worried about Voldemort being back and recruiting Death Eaters than he was about his reputation being attacked.
Just then, he heard voices getting closer. He raised his head and groaned. Dudley and his 'friends' were walking down the street, laughing about something Dudley had just told them. They hadn't noticed Harry yet and he wasn't too keen on changing that, but then, something inside him snapped.
No, he wouldn't hide from Dudley and his gang anymore.
Dudley and his 'friends' parted ways though, and Harry sighed. So he'd confront them next time and only take his frustration out on his cousin, who happened to be walking in his direction anyway, a big grin on his face.
"What's going on? Been meeting with Cedric or anything? Who is he, your boyfriend?" Dudley smirked.
"Actually he was killed. But what about you, Diddykins? Do your friends know about your nickname? I bet they'd love to hear about it, wouldn't they?"
"Don't you dare tell them, fag. I'll make dad throw you out and beat you up, I swear it!" he hissed, but Harry saw a hint of fear in his cousin's eyes. The incident with the toffee was still fresh for him, apparently. Harry was going to respond to Dudley, but he stopped dead. Had it not been way hotter five minutes ago?
He shivered. Yeah, it had definitely gotten a lot colder, really fast. Dudley noticed it too, now.
"Stop it, freak, you're not scaring me!" he shouted, despite his terrified expression.
"It's not me it's… Run, Dudley!" Harry shouted as soon as he realised what was going on.
Dudley didn't move. "Come on Dudley, you have to run! They-" but it was too late. They were already there, black cloaks hiding their rotten bodies, hoods covering what no one saw and is still able to talk about. Dementors.
"What are you doing? What's happening?" Dudley shouted at Harry. 'Great, he can't see them and thinks I'm doing it,' Harry thought and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Dudley panicked even more when Harry took out his wand. When Harry raised it to fight the Dementors, Dudley hit him in the head, knocking him to the ground.
Harry cursed and got back up, only to see that one of the Dementors had grabbed Dudley's throat and was slowly getting closer with its face.
Harry said the words to conjure his patronus, but the only thing he managed to do was create a bit of silvery mist.
He cursed and focused with all his might on a happy memory, then he shouted, once more "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
This time, the familiar silver stag burst forth and ran into the Dementor that was trying to get to him, sending it reeling away. Then the patronus turned around and slammed into the Dementor that was about to take Dudley's soul. The Dementor dropped Dudley and flew after the other one, and the heat returned.
After the letters, Vernon was about ready to strangle him, so Harry locked himself in his room and waited for his uncle's anger to diminish.
The next time he knocked on Harry's door, it was to tell him that their garden had been nominated for some prize, so he'd be taking Petunia and Dudley to where the prize would be awarded. He made it very clear that he didn't want Harry there, which said boy was more than fine with.
After the three of them were gone, Harry heard someone entering the house, so he took his wand and quietly opened the door of his room.
Standing in the hallway was a witch with spiked, violently violet hair and dark, twinkling eyes.
Behind her, Harry could make out Moody and Lupin, and some people he didn't recognise.
"What are you all doing here? What if Vernon had been here? He could've seen you,"Harry wanted to know.
"Oh, but he isn't here, is he?" said the pink-haired witch. "He's currently on his way to receive some non-existent prize for his garden and my guess is that we don't want to be here when he comes back."
… and now I'm at their headquarters and I'll have to go to a hearing at the ministry because I fought off those Dementors. Shouldn't that count as using magic in a life-threatening situation? I mean, what else could I have done to save myself and Dudley?
-Harry
Malfoy's reply came almost immediately and seemed hastily scribbled.
Oh shit, are you alright? Do you know who's behind this? My father didn't say anything, so it might not have been You-Know-Who, but he could've kept it to himself. It's most likely not Fudge, he wouldn't endanger muggles and risk exposure. Well, at least it got you out of your muggle family's home and into those headquarters?
You're right, it absolutely should, and I'm sure it's gonna turn out fine. Fudge probably wants to keep you quiet by showing you the power the ministry has. You should make sure to do what the Weasleys and the others, whoever they are, tell you to do at the hearing. They should know how to get you out of this.
-Draco
Harry groaned. Was everyone going to tell him what to do now? He wasn't a helpless kid anymore, he had faced Voldemort more than once and was still alive, that had to count for something, didn't it?
He exhaled. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. And Draco was probably right, the others had to know what to do, how to deal with the upcoming hearing and everything. But it was so frustrating! He finally got out of his aunt's house and for what? To be bossed around again, and to be treated like a child who couldn't defend himself.
"Harry? Is everything alright? You're not trying to isolate yourself, are you?" asked a voice which he recognised as Hermione's. "Guess so, if you ignore the fact that I might be expelled and have my wand taken away. And that Voldemort is back. And that nobody believes me, or Dumbledore for that matter. Or that Cedric is dead, or that my uncle knows that- nevermind."
"What does your uncle kno- No, whatever it is, you'll tell us when you're ready, right? Just remember that what he hates isn't necessarily a bad thing. I mean he hates magic, right?" Hermione said and smiled at him.
"Anyway, it might be best if you come upstairs and get some rest, Mrs Weasley is going to need help getting rid of… about half of the stuff in this house. She'd love to throw away that painting, of course, but-"
"But it's glued to the wall with a permanent sticking charm, courtesy of Sirius' mother. Yeah, he told me."
Harry got up and put the parchment in his pocket, earning a worried look from Hermione.
"You know, maybe it would be better to not write to Malfoy that often - no, let me finish. Maybe it'd be better because since the magic can get through the protections of this place, it might be possible to track it right to you."
"Maybe you're right, but Draco wrote that it was enchanted to make tracking it at least very difficult, if not impossible," Harry said, shaking his head. Hermione looked at him, a startled look on her face.
"When did he go from Malfoy to Draco in your books?"
Harry froze. He hadn't even noticed the change. "Well, I- We've been writing a lot, and… well, I think we're not that different." Harry looked down, awaiting Hermione's response.
After a few seconds, she exhaled. "If you think so. But it'll take more than that to convince me. He's done too much."
"Who's done too much? Who're you talking about, Hermione?"
"Uhm.. Nobody, Ron," she replied hastily. "So, let's go upstairs, right? It's late and we should get some rest, you know what your mom wants to do tomorrow."
Harry thought that he had finally left the nightmares of the graveyard behind, so he fell asleep quickly.
Rows after rows of gravestones lined the graveyard, sprinkled with fine drops of water. The air was as cold as the commanding, unforgiving voice that spoke so quietly that Harry barely heard it. "Kill the spare," it said, just like it had all those other times in Harry's nightmares. Once again Wormtail shouted the words which took lives. Once again green light erupted from Wormtail's wand. Once again the light struck Cedric in the chest. Once again, Harry stumbled over to the older boy, gripping his shoulders, shaking him while tears streamed down his face.
"Harry Potter. The boy who leaves death in his wake. It's your fault, it's all your fault. You could have saved him. You could have saved them all, you know it."
Harry looked up from Cedric's body and froze. Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Draco, Ginny, Neville, Dean, and many others were lying around him on the ground, all with the same, empty eyes. Ron rose up, then Hermione, and the others followed suit. "Why? Why didn't you save us?" "Why did you let us die?" "Why are you not here with us?" "Why did you leave us?"
Harry woke up, his sight blurry with tears. He knew that they were right. He could've saved Cedric if he'd taken the Cup for himself, but he just had to share his 'victory'. If Harry hadn't been in the Tournament in the first place, there would have been no reason for Voldemort to have the Cup turned into a portkey, and Cedric wouldn't have been killed by Wormtail. And just like Cedric, he'd put everyone else in harm's way.
'No, I won't. I won't let anybody else die because of me, even if it costs my own life.'
He wiped his eyes and got up, taking his parchment and trying to write something, but it was no use. The only things he could think of were his nightmare and Cedric's death.
Suddenly, he knew what to write. He grabbed his quill and let the words flow out.
Draco,
I can't do this. I can't watch everyone around me die anymore. Cedric's death almost broke me, and not just because he died right in front of my eyes. When those dementors attacked, I almost didn't manage to cast a real patronus. I've been able to do that with ease for over a year, I should have managed to do it faster!
But instead, night after night I dream of that damned graveyard and Cedric's death and it just hurts so much… Hermione would want me to talk to Dumbledore, but I don't want to talk to him about that, so I haven't told her, and I don't think Ron can help. I mean. Not that I'm sure that you could help, but… well we did write a lot and… just forget it. I don't know what I've been thinking. Maybe it's just the stress of everything that's going on, Voldemort returning, seeing Cedric die, my uncle being more hateful than ever…
-Harry
PS: I was just wondering, have you thought about if you're gonna keep playing the cold Malfoy heir or if you show your true colors?
It was still dark outside, so Harry didn't expect Draco to reply right away. He thought about going back to sleep, but he quickly discarded the idea. He had no interest in another nightmare.
Instead, he decided he'd try to learn something for school since he had a lot to catch up on, "thanks" to the Dursleys.
By the time he heard others walking around the house, he had worked his way through History of Magic and was sitting on his bed, waiting for the others to wake up so he had something to do, since Draco still hadn't replied.
When he checked the parchment again after breakfast, he was happy to find that the blond boy had replied.
Harry,
that Cedric died doesn't mean that everyone will die. The portkey disoriented you and him, and none of you could have expected someone to attack you with unvorgivable curses. Now that You-Know-Who is back, everyone who believes in the truth will be careful and watch their backs…
I'm not good at this, am I?
But you need to understand that you're not responsible for their deaths. Did you kill Cedric? No, someone else did, a Death Eater. You can't always prevent things from happening, not even Dumbledore could, during the first war.
So… do you want to talk about what you're going through some more? You don't have to, obviously, but if you want, I'll listen. Well not exactly, because we're writing, but you know what I mean.
Who'd have thought that one day, I'd try to help you, right?
-Draco
Harry sighed. Draco was right, a few months ago it would have been unimaginable that the blond Slytherin would try to help Harry with anything except getting himself expelled, but there he was, encouraging Harry despite the risk of his father finding out.
"Harry? Mrs Weasley wants to start getting rid of the doxys now, so you should probably come down. It'll take your mind off everything that happened," Hermione said, standing in the doorway.
"Okay, I'll be down in a few minutes, I just need to write something quickly."
Draco's POV
Draco,
thanks, I really mean it.
It's a bit weird for this to be coming from you, but not in a bad way... I don't have much time right now, so thanks again.
-Harry
Draco sighed with relief. After the Dementor disaster and everything that had happened at the end of their fourth year, he'd been worried that it might have been too much, but it seemed that for now, Harry was okay. Or at least, as okay as he could be under the circumstances.
The next morning, his father seemed exceptionally cheerful, which means he wasn't reprimanding Draco, and the usual scowl was replaced by a devious grin.
"Lucius, you seem in a good mood today, " Narcissa smiled.
"I am. We might solve the problem this Potter boy poses much sooner than we thought. You see, dear Narcissa, yesterday the boy was attacked by Dementors in the present of a muggle, and he used magic to defend himself. After the hearing for underage magic, his wand will be taken away and he will be expelled from Hogwarts. And if he's not at Hogwarts anymore, Dumbledore can't protect him during school. He'll be alone and defenseless, and most importantly, he'll be a nobody."
"So when the Dark Lord kills him, people won't pay it much attention? That's brilliant! The Dark Lord can kill him and continue gathering followers unnoticed, and when he shows himself, anyone who opposes him will condemn themselves to death," Draco said, immediately putting on the mask of the loyal son, allowing a bit too much excitement to hopefully distract Lucius from any imperfections of his act.
After Lucius was gone, Narcissa asked Draco to stay for a short talk.
"Yes, of course, mother. "
"Draco, you don't have to pretend if it's only me, you know that.
But that's not what I wanted to talk about. No, I wanted to ask you about what you said to your father. Do you really feel that way about the Dark Lord? Just because your father is a Death Eater does not mean that you have to turn our like him, I myself never took the Dark Mark. I only ask you this because I want what's best for you, not your father."
The directness of her question took him aback, but he was relieved that his act had fooled even his mother.
"I would have agreed with the Death Eaters some time ago, but I don't anymore. You-you're not gonna tell him, are you, mother? "
Narcissa shook her head. "No, little dragon, I won't. I don't agree with everything the Dark Lord wants, either. I wanted to make sure that you think for yourself, but that doesn't seem to be necessary. I'm proud of you, Draco."
She wrapped her arms around Draco for a moment, then she cleared her throat and let him go to his room.
Draco spent the next few days trying to find out as much about the hearing as he could without making Lucius suspicious, but he was certain he'd missed something, since unless they somehow gave Harry a grave disadvantage, he'd be cleared of all charges in a fair hearing. Luckily though, Lucius saw Draco's interest as his son wanting to follow in his footsteps, so one day before the hearing he told him that the hearing would be rescheduled to take place a few hours sooner, so that Harry would miss it and be convicted without any chance to defend himself.
Draco reacted appropriately and went to his room a bit later, dropping his act only after closing the door. He rushed to his desk and took out a piece of parchment.
Professor Dumbledore,
Harry's hearing is meant to take place sooner than originally scheduled in order to keep him from defending himself. His fall from grace would be complete, the magical world would lose interest and few would notice his death, so that the Dark Lord can stay in the shadows until he's strong enough to destroy all who oppose him.
Nobody must know that I informed you about this, please make sure of that.
-Draco Malfoy
He tied the piece of parchment to his owl's leg and sent it away after gently stroking his feathers.
After closing the window again, Draco took out the enchanted parchment and began to write to Harry again. Over the last days, he'd tried to cheer the black-haired boy up as well as he could.
Harry,
your hearing is tomorrow, but don't let that unsettle you. Remember, Dumbledore is on your side, and with all his time as chief warlock of the Wizengamot, he knows everything they might do and will be prepared for it. Besides, you only defended yourself and saved your cousin's life, so there is no way they can throw you out and take your wand.
Also, I finally made up my mind about the question you asked a few day ago. I am going to pretend for as long as You-Know-Who stays hidden, but when he shows himself, I will make sure that everybody knows that I am not with the Death Eaters.
-Draco
When Lucius came back home after the hearing, he was furious.
"Dumbledore somehow learned of our plans and showed up at the hearing. Potter was cleared of all charges!"
Draco kept his head down and avoided Lucius for the rest of the day, but on the inside he was jumping around.
He probably just saved Harry from being expelled, and as consequence maybe from being killed, and all that without Lucius noticing anything amiss.
You're not gonna believe this, they almost had me miss the hearing! At the last minute, Mr Weasley and I were told that it took place earlier, so I was late. And they wouldn't listen when I told them about the bloody Dementors, and if Dumbledore hadn't shown up, I would've been expelled for sure, and my wand would've been destroyed.
Anyway, I'm cleared of all charges and free to return to Hogwarts, thank Merlin.
-Harry
PS: Do you think Dumbledore managed to find a new DADA teacher?
Reading Harry's words made Draco smile. How could he ever have hated the boy in the first place?
I'm glad to hear that you're okay, Harry. I was worried when I heard my father talk about the plan with the hearing, but Dumbledore must have learned of it somehow (though of course I don't know who might've told him). Lucius is furious, but what cna he do? He's still playing the minister's loyal subordinate, and his manipulation can only achieve so much…
Well, I think that's enough gloating, though I really liked to see my father so frustrated about a failed plan, since it doesn't happen too often. I think the last time was in our second year when Dumbledore returned and you killed the basilisk, not to mention how yu humiliated him by tricking him into freeing Dobby.
I'm not sure who is going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I think with Dumbledore's constant refusal to stop talking about Yo-Know-Who's return and Fudge's growing paranoia that Dumbledore might try to seize power from him, I doubt that our headmaster was be able to appoint someone he chose. The minister likely wants to have someone who keeps a close eye on everything that happens at Hogwarts…
-Draco
The rest of the time until the start of the term went over without a hitch, and soon it was time to get to platform 9 again. On the train ride, Draco learned that the Gryffindor prefects were Granger and Weasley, which surprised him since Weasley wasn't exactly a model student. But Dumbledore must have had his reasons, just like he had for appointing Draco as Slytherin prefect, alongside Pansy.
After meeting with the other prefects, Draco decided to wander around the train for a little while. He thought about talking to Harry, but the latter was in a compartment with Longbottom, who was carrying a weird plant, the Weasley girl, and Luna Lovegood, whose father was the publisher of the… very curious magazine The Quibbler, so Draco only passed by them without them noticing.
He was just on his way to his compartment that Blaise was supposed to keep free when he met Granger and Weasley. Since he didn't want to start a fight with them, he murmured their names as some sort of half-hearted greeting, which Granger returned. Weasley however decided to block his path.
"Just to be clear, Malfoy, just because you've been made prefect too doesn't mean that you're officially allowed to boss anybody around. If I hear anything from my house-"
"I see you're as charming as ever, Weasley. But as incredible as it may seem, my life doesn't revolve around making you miserable. I've come to the realisation that this petty little hostilities are useless and lead to nothing. In simpler words, I've no interest in "bullying" any of you Gryffindors and decided to use my ambition for other things. However, I'm not saying I won't get anyone back, should they start fights.
If you would kindly let me pass now, I'd like to go to my compartment."
Ron stepped aside dumbfounded and Hermione almost smiled as Draco left, so maybe there was still a chance for him to earn their forgiveness, even though that seemed like pretty tedious work...
After the sorting ceremony, Pansy subtly nudged Draco.
"Dray, isn't that Umbridge? What is she doing here, she can't be supposed to teach us. Can she?" Pansy whispered from his left. "It would seem that that's exactly what she is here to do. Or rather, that and keeping an eye on Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers. And us students," Draco responded just as quietly "but we should not be talking about this right now, when everyone can hear us." he added.
Pansy nodded and turned her attention to the plate in front of her, but she didn't really eat.
Finally, Dumbledore rose up to give one of his signature speeches, but Umbridge interrupted him as soon as he had told them that she was their new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. The entire Great Hall went absolutely silent, and the teachers shot Umbridge confused or disapproving looks. If Draco didn't know better, he'd think that Professor McGonagall was trying to kill Umbridge with the looks she shot her.
Umbridge thanked Dumbledore for his "kind words of welcome" and talked about how "progress for progress' sake must be discouraged" and so on which might have seemed innocent enough, but the hidden meaning was clear. She was going to make sure that everything went exactly as the minister wanted, and anyone who went against that, whether student, teacher, or head teacher, would face the consequences of their actions.
--
NaLuFireSpirit
Thanks, I'm glad you like it so far :D
Owl About Town (Guest)
Heyy, I appreciate the comment:D I'm trying my best so not copy anything subconsciously, and I hope that the wax it's going to go is different than everything that's been done before...
Sorry if my replies seem weird, I'm just generally bad at interacting with people... But yeah, I hope it's going to turn out a good and as original as possible story
Ninjasnowflake
I know what you mean, and I was really unsure whether I should do that because he genuinely wants Harry's trust, but I think it would make sense for him to interpret his house's values a little generously. Does that make sense?
Anyway, thanks for your opinion :D