The Enemy Walks
So typically direct. Well, at least he's not insane, so many of them are.
Harry sighed and yanked his glasses off so he could rub his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Draco desperately wanted to hurry him up, but thought it best to let Potter tell it at his own pace.
He had no right to demand anything of him after all.
"Well, to put it simply," Potter said at last, "We've got a new evil wizard to contend with. This one however is extremely subtle and cunning, well, more so than Voldemort-" Draco flinched at the mention of the his former master's name.
"-So much so that we don't even know what he looks like, let alone who he is."
"And I fit into this problem where exactly? Which by the way, considering how I'm destined to spend another twelve years in here, would be very much your problem," The minute those words past his lips Draco knew he should not have said it. Harry flared angrily, shoving his glasses back on and glaring archly at his former schoolmate.
And former enemy.
"I came here," Harry replied coldly, "Because I need someone with inside knowledge of the black arts and who is familiar with how such a wizard operates. He might be far subtler when compared to Voldemort, but he still uses very similar methods of working. "
Draco stared at the wall just over to Harry's left simply because he could not bring himself to look him in the face. He found it much too painful.
"Look around you Potter," He said, spreading out his arms as if to indicate the world in general. "Your in a prison full of Death Eaters, or what remains of them. And non of them have done the kind of things to you I have..." Draco trailed off. Harry saw the look on his former enemy's face, one of extreme discomfort and the tiniest hint of guilt.
Prison had certainly changed him; almost for the better one might say.
Sirius certainly would.
"Why would you ever come to me?"
"Because out of all the Death Eaters in this prison, you're the only one I trust."
There was no way Harry could ever have prepared himself for Draco's reaction. The blond man threw back his head and laughed. It echoed eerily around the tiny cell as if a hundred of him were laughing at once. It was particularly creepy given the maniacal note to it.
"Oh, that's funny Potter. I mean really I'm glad you visited if only for giving me the first real laugh I've had in years."
The almost demented smile he wore on his face faded then and was replaced with a very ugly look. Malfoy probably meant it as a scowl but instead it spoke silent volumes of the deep-seated self-loathing Draco really felt for himself. The self-loathing that had seen him hand himself over to his bitter enemies.
That was however after a spectacular duel with Harry himself in which Harry had come very close to killing him. He had been so furious when Malfoy had managed to escape. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock when he arrived back at where the Aurors were currently staying at the time to find that Draco Malfoy had voluntarily handed himself over to them only mere minutes ago.
And he'd seen the very same look in his eyes then that he beheld in them now.
"Tell me Potter, does your godfather know what your doing? You do realise the minute he finds out he'll kill me," Draco didn't seem particularly worried about that prospect; in fact Harry suspected he would probably be glad of it.
"Actually, he's waiting outside for me to bring you out. And as to why I trust you...well, it's a lot of reasons. But this isn't something you'll hear a lot of in your life so be glad of it."
"Take me out? How on earth are you going to get me out of here? Surely the authorities didn't approve this?" Draco already knew the answer.
Harry looked rather amused by the question.
"Of course they didn't," He said simply. Then, he reached inside his bottle green robes and withdrew something long and silvery. Draco frowned at it, then realised what the beautiful garment was.
"You'd think this prison would be well guarded against the use of Invisibility Cloaks," He noted dryly. Potter grinned.
"You would wouldn't you? Then again, who could foresee Harry Potter smuggling any prisoner, much less Draco Malfoy, from this place?"
A smirk ghosted Malfoy's lips then.
"Yes. Who would indeed?"
Draco quickly ducked under the garment and waited for Harry to open the door. He held out his arm to stop Malfoy from walking out straight away as he checked the corridor to see if the guard was anywhere near. Near enough to have heard anything of what they were plotting that is.
"It's clear," Harry murmured, letting his arm fall back to his side. Malfoy quickly slipped past him and out into the corridor, heart beating wildly.
This can't work! It can't! It's too simple! Surely it cannot be this easy?
Harry locked the heavy cell door and strolled away nonchalantly. You had to hand it too him, he was a damn fine actor when he wanted to be. Draco walked as silently as he could just a step behind Harry now. He had to fight the urge not to simply abandon all such precaution and just make a run for it.
They past the guard and Harry handed him back the key to Draco's cell. Draco was sure he would hear something, but the drab wizard did not so much as bat an eyelid. They walked on, past another guard and still nothing. Past another and still nobody raised so much as a questioning eyebrow at them.
Finally they reached the exit and Draco's heart very nearly stopped dead when someone called out to Harry.
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry wheeled round, keeping his face a mask, but inside he was panicking, his stomach writhing as if it were filled with live snakes.
The man who had stopped him was carrying something black under his arm. He smiled at the 'special' visitor and Harry felt himself relax a bit. He also thought he heard a very relieved sigh from behind him.
"You almost left this Mr. Potter," The wizard said, holding out the black clothing, which was a cloak. Draco had to bite his lip to stop himself from saying 'thank Merlin' aloud.
"Oh! Of course, how silly of me," Harry breathed with a rather nervous giggle. Malfoy badly wanted to kick him.
Try saying 'guilty' ten times fast, he thought sourly, then reminded himself what Potter was doing for him, which considering their history he should consider nothing short of a divine miracle.
Harry took the cloak, thanked the wizard and swept away, leaving Draco to follow silently.
At long last, they were out. It was raining cats and dogs and it was almost pitch dark but Draco Malfoy had never laid eyes on such a beautiful sight in a very long time. It was dark, yes, but there was colour. And life and vibrancy, everything he had been deprived of in prison.
The world had never looked so beautiful.
They walked on through the downpour until Harry rounded a corner and was met by a figure Draco had no trouble in recognising and he felt his blood run cold and a horrible sick feeling began building in his stomach.
It was Sirius Black.
"You there Malfoy?" Sirius asked without emotion, his face a mask. But he knew what the man was feeling. Well, maybe not knew exactly, but Draco could easily hazard a guess and he would not blame the man if he leapt forward and strangled him where he stood.
"I'm here," he affirmed. He desperately wanted to say 'I'm sorry,' but this wasn't the time. His disappearance could be discovered at any moment.
"No trouble then Harry?" Sirius enquired of his godson. Harry shook his head.
"No trouble at all. It was certainly a lot easier than I could have anticipated."
Draco had a strong feeling it wasn't just their escape from the guards they were referring too.
"Good." Sirius held up an object, it looked like a ball of some kind that had been punctured or something. It was black and white and most probably a discarded old Muggle object, or at least was so to all appearances.
A Portkey.
Harry took hold of it. Draco followed suit.
"You holding it?" Harry hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Draco nodded, than remembered that Harry could not see him.
"Yes."
"Ok. Sirius, NOW!"
There was a sharp tug at Draco's navel and he felt himself being sucked away like water down a plughole. The journey took mere seconds, which gave him the suspicion that Potter and Black had not in fact travelled all that far.
They appeared in front of a house on a hill. It was very shabby and badly kept, white dirty paint was peeling from the wood and the windows were spotted with something Draco did not feel he wanted to know the name of. One window had clearly been broken at one point then badly patched up with something as temporary as it looked.
Carefully Malfoy slid the Invisibility Cloak off himself. He felt more exposed somehow now that they could see him and he purposely kept his eyes averted from them both, especially Sirius.
"Where are we?" He asked quietly.
"This is Remus Lupin's house," Harry responded. The rain had eased off a bit, but all of them were rather wet.
"Let's get inside," Sirius said gruffly, walking to the front door. Harry and Draco followed and they were soon enveloped in blissful warmth.
And colour.
For all it's shabby outside appearance the home was surprisingly rather cosy on the inside. Being a werewolf meant that Lupin had never had a steady job and therefore was poorer than the Weasley family had ever been. Although he had never admitted it when the friendly, quietly spoken man had been a teacher had Hogwarts, Draco rather liked him.
Lupin had never judged him like all the other teachers. Never spoke to him with just a slight edge (which even Snape had started to do when he saw that there was to be no dissuading the Malfoy boy away from Voldemort) of frostiness, never put him in detention for some idle mischief whereas any other pupil, especially Potter, would have merely been awarded a slap on the wrist.
Draco wished now more than ever he had told him this, rather than choosing to keep up mean appearances and making fun of his tattered clothes instead.
Bad choices. The story of my life ladies and gentleman.
The three of them walked into the living room where there was a roaring fire ready. In a comfy if rather moth eaten chair was Remus himself and he beamed at the three of them, no apprehension at having an actual criminal, who inflicted great hurt upon them all no less, in his house was present at all in his friendly eyes. Still as non-judgemental as ever. Draco smiled back and it was utterly genuine, not the horrible, disdainful smirk of his youth.
"Well hello. I didn't expect you to be here quite so soon. Everything went smoothly then?"
"Very," Sirius affirmed, edging over to the sofa and sitting down. Harry gently propelled Draco into the seat closest to the fire before seating himself next to his godfather. There was a very long uncomfortable silence in which Sirius tossed out probing looks to Harry. It was obvious he wanted a word with him.
Eventually Lupin cleared his throat and said, "Draco, I imagine you would like a proper bath, yes? I'll show where the bathroom is."
"Oh, yes, that would be nice." He followed Lupin out of the room casting one last look at the two before he went. He was sorely tempted to eavesdrop on the exchange that was assuredly imminent but decided he would rather not know.
Lupin took him to a surprisingly clean and well-tiled bathroom. It's cleanliness more than made up for its size. It was positively tiny but to one who was used to such meagre space it didn't particularly bother Draco whereas at one time it would have appalled him.
"There's fresh towels in the linen cupboard," Remus told him, pointing to where the cupboard was in the corner of the room.
Draco meant to thank him but instead blurted, "He hates me doesn't he?" Remus paused; gnawing his lip, not entirely sure whether the question was meant to be rhetorical or Draco actually desired some sort of comforting answer.
"How would you feel if he had done to you what you did to him?" He said simply. This seemed to be pretty much what Malfoy expected but he was also clearly confused and Remus could not honestly blame him.
"Then why'd you take me out? Why not kill me? It's what I deserve." Lupin sighed and brushed a hand wearily through his greying, light brown hair.
"Because they can forgive…if you help us that is."
Malfoy merely nodded.
Feeling that there was nothing more to be said, Lupin left, closing the door quietly and walked back downstairs to where he could hear raised voices from the living room. After a moments hesitation he wandered into the kitchen.
Best to leave Harry and Sirius to sort this out between themselves.
After Remus and Draco had left, Sirius turned to face his godson next to him, wondering exactly how he should approach this. Part of him wanted to yell and scream and tell Harry how stupid and naïve he was being trusting a Malfoy, especially Draco. But the other part reminded him that if Harry could put aside his personal feelings about Malfoy then so should he.
"I know this must be very difficult for you after what he did…" Harry began slowly, and then trailed off not having any real way to finish that sentence. Ever since that terrible night, when Harry had found Sirius bound to a chair and smeared in blood, shallow yet vicious cuts scarring his body, neither had really spoken of it again.
Until now.
"No, I don't think you do understand Harry. I know he hurt…well, he did what he did to me to hurt you but…you never had to experience that. Seeing how much it delighted him, the pain that just wouldn't stop and knowing he was prolonging it on purpose…"
"You don't need to remind me. He hurt me in all kinds of ways, and that was one of them. Torture isn't something I'm not unfamiliar with Sirius, you should know that." Sirius nodded, secretly angry with himself for forgetting that. Harry shuddered when he thought of the times he had been hit with the Cruciatus Curse after the Tri Wizard Tournament by Voldemort. The pain had been unbearable.
"I still don't understand why he is so pivotal to your plan. The plan you have yet to let us in on by the way," Sirius knew the pitch of his voice was rising but he could not help it.
Harry was starting to look rather exasperated. He knew why Sirius was being difficult, but surely his godfather could trust his judgement by now? He was no longer a young seventeen year old fighting like a kitten against a large, fierce jungle cat as had been the case before. He was a man and a hell of a lot wiser.
But it does not mean I'm right, Harry reminded himself. Now was not the time to grow an ego. One thing that always benefited him in the past was his level headedness.
"This…wizard, whoever he is. He works like Voldemort. Obviously hates Muggles and Mudbloods and Hermione had heard tell that he brands followers very much like Voldemort did with a variation of the Dark Mark, only he uses some kind of magical oath to seal their loyalty. Draco worked in Voldemort's service…he could be an asset."
"Or he could be our undoing," Sirius countered pointedly.
"I'm aware of that," Harry responded coolly. "But I feel this is a risk that is worth taking."
There was a long silence. Sirius seemed to be mulling this all over whilst Harry waited tensely for his response.
"Very well," He said at last, dark eyes not meeting his godson's and he made sure Harry knew that he was still very doubtful. He wanted to support him, but on this matter he simply could not bring himself to do that.
"I just hope it doesn't come back to bite you on the backside."
