"Malfoy? I thought he was dead!" Remus insisted.
"Yes, he was disappeared after the Hogsmeade attack when he was a student here," answered Minerva. "Granted, we never saw a body, but his parents made sure that there was full news coverage of the funeral."
"Oh, he's not dead," Severus hissed. "Quite a few people in these parts wish he were."
"He's a Death Eater?" Wynn demanded.
"Yes," Dumbledore admitted.
"But he's Harry's age!" Snape merely raised a practiced eyebrow at Wynn, as if to ask Are you really that naïve? "Well, why hasn't he been added to the lists?"
"Some of us had hopes of turning his misguided heart," Snape sneered, but the only just-perceptible tinge in his cheeks suggested that, at one time, he had been one of those people.
"Be that as it may, have you at least had someone monitoring his activities?" Remus asked.
"Whenever possible," Dumbledore answered. "The young man is supposed to be dead. He's done a very convincing job of it."
"Except when he's working," Harry hissed. This was the first time in the past few minutes when he could find his tongue. "You do realize what Draco Malfoy has done, don't you?"
Remus, Severus and Wynn looked confused, but Minerva's face became shuttered and Dumbledore could only nod, head heavy with the solemnity in the room.
"What is he talking about?" Severus snapped, unused to being out of the loop when it came to his Slytherins.
"The attack on Miss Granger the summer before he seventh year," Dumbledore answered.
"That was-" Severus had to stop himself for a moment. Children. They were only children. "Why was I not told?" he demanded, his voice quiet but anything but soft.
"As he left no physical evidence on Miss Granger's person, she agreed not to make his involvement a matter of public record. I didn't want it clouding your judgement," Dumbledore answered.
"Clouding my-"
"There was certain evidence that the boy was…unwilling."
"What-"
"The bastard couldn't get it up," Harry snarled. "Not at first at any rate. And while he waited he found other ways of amusing himself." Harry couldn't think about it anymore. Hermione was now one of the closest friends he had, and just thinking about her lying there and crying and bleeding and…it was making him sick.
"May I finish a sentence now?" Snape asked, choosing annoyance over disgust.
"By all means, Severus," Dumbledore answered.
"For the moment, we have to put aside the…monstrosity that was Draco Malfoy years ago. At this moment, he may be trying to tell us something. And he is the only Potions expert that would have had the opportunity to become involved in this incident. All of Voldemort's top potion masters are currently trying to create a synthetic version of the Elixir of Life, fruitless as it will inevitably be. There is simply no way without the use of unicorn blood and Voldemort is set against it."
"Why don't we just capture Draco the next chance we get?" Minerva asked.
"It wouldn't work," Harry answered. "We wouldn't be able to release him. Voldemort would kill him for sure."
"Mr. Potter's right," Severus answered. "His absence would not go unnoticed and it is policy to execute possible traitors, no matter their worth."
"But you're here," Wynn pointed out.
"I didn't say it was a terribly old policy," Severus sighed.
"Well, why would he want to go back anyway, if he is responsible for this?" Wynn asked.
"Maybe he wants to be a spy," Minerva offered.
"It's a possibility," Severus answered. "Whatever his motives, I'm fairly sure that he is not prepared to abandon the old way of life, else he would have come out openly for our side. In Draco Malfoy's case, arrogance is a decent enough substitute for bravery. He wouldn't thumb his nose at his father unless he had a substantial audience."
"So, basically, there's nothing we can do but wait?" Harry asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the aggravation from his voice. He'd be damned if he was going to put his life in the hands of someone like Draco Malfoy.
"The first move is his, Harry," Severus answered. "This may be a one time gift. Or it may be all conjecture on our parts. There's no proof of anything."
"In the meantime, what do we do about harry?" Remus asked. "I shudder to think about what could happen if he spontaneously transforms into a dragon in the middle of the Great Hall."
"Wynn, will you please work with him?" Dumbledore asked. Severus did nothing to hide his doubt in the groundskeeper's ability, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Of course," Wynn answered, scowling at Snape before smiling at Harry. "It should only be a matter of control, nothing too difficult."
"Where do we stand on the elder Malfoy's reason for attacking Harry?" Remus asked. "I have to believe that neither he nor Macnair had any intention of being the catalyst for Harry's gift. But I also agree with Severus's assessment of Malfoy's intelligence. He would not be so foolhardy without some very strong incentives. What was he doing in that pub?"
"Maybe his son convinced him that the poison he was lacing the blade with would be enough to kill Harry," Dumbledore suggested. "Draco would be in for a painful reprimand against failure, but the fact that Harry has been paralyzed will be enough to save him from death at the hands of his master."
"Too bad," Harry muttered beneath his breath.
"I suggest we adjourn for lunch," Dumbledore smiled, choosing to ignore Harry's whispered comment.
"That's it?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"What were you expecting?" Minerva asked.
"Probably a grand plan involving turning into a ferocious monster of some kind and eating Voldemort alive," Severus half-smiled. "And he would have a near to valid point, Headmaster. Plans should be-"
"Put off for another day," Dumbledore finished for him. "At least until Harry gains more control over this new talent. Then, perhaps, we can entertain suggestions."
"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Harry asked. "I can't teach any more of Professor Snape's classes, not when there's the risk of transforming into something dangerous, and I refuse to go back into his labs until those snakes are out, and I can't go to town to buy Christmas presents, and finally I think I'm going stir crazy!" Harry finished rather melodramatically. It felt good, he decided. Everyone needs a decent rant now and then.
"What's wrong with snakes?" Minerva asked.
"They talk to much," Harry grumbled, trying to ignore the small sounds of laughter coming from his godfather and friend.
"I'm sure Wynn will assign you some involving readings concerning extinct and deadly magical creatures," Remus grinned.
"Oh I couldn't be more delighted," Harry groaned, reveling in his allowed immaturity.
"I'd offer to run your errands at Hogsmeade, but I'm under house arrest as well," Severus smirked.
"Min, can I count on you to come to my rescue?" Harry asked, turning on all of his charm.
"Of course not, not if you insist on calling me that," Minerva half-heartedly snapped.
"Don't worry, Harry," Wynn answered. "Most of the stores will send out owl orders and catalogs if you request them."
"Yes," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands lightly as he stood to usher everyone out to the Great Hall. "As for your cabin fever, Harry, most of the students are going to be leaving at the end of the week for Christmas holidays. Perhaps then a pickup game of Quidditch might be arranged? In the meantime, I'm sure Professor Snape will be happy to relocate his snakes."
"Absolutely thrilled," Severus answered, but by the morning he had done so, and Harry had begun counting down the days until he could play in a full game of Quidditch.