My dearest reviewers: Prepare yourself, there's still a few loose ends to tie up. Not to mention a few to start unraveling…
Chapter 20
McGonagall and Snape apparently had brought a portkey of their own, because Draco found himself stumbling to keep his feet under him as they appeared in the Hogwarts infirmary.
"Bring her right here, Professor," Madam Pomphrey's voice said briskly behind him. "Potter, Malfoy, McDouglas, you get on those beds and don't move until I tell you to."
Draco kept his mouth shut, as he didn't feel this was the best time to draw any more attention to himself and instead concentrated on helping Cara onto a bed. She was sagging heavily against him, and it was only with Potter's help he was able to nearly carry her to the nearest bed. He was breathing hard as he settled her back against the pillows.
Potter promptly moved away, toward a bed on the far side of the room rather than the one next to where Cara now lay, eyes closed. Draco supposed it was some kind of gesture on the other boy's part, and that he ought to be grateful. For the moment, however, he was too sore and too tired to be bloody grateful.
Madam Pomphrey was muttering things over the youngest Weasley as Draco settled himself on the narrow hospital bed. Every nerve ending in his body burned as he forced tired muscles to move.
The door flew open and Potter's faithful sidekicks came dashing. "Harry!" Granger exclaimed, spotting him first.
"You ok, mate?" Ron said, looking concerned. "We found your bookbag on the floor and…" his voice trailed off as he spotted his sister. "Ginny," he said, voice tightening.
Draco watched in mild interest as Granger caught him by the arm. "Wait, Ron," she said softly. "Madam Pomphrey's with her." The other's body was tensed and practically straining against her, but Weasley didn't move. He just gave a tight nod and stood, staring.
Granger looked back at Potter, hand still firmly in place on Weasley's arm. "What happened, Harry? Are you ok? Is Ginny ok?"
"I think we'd all like to hear what Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have to say," came Professor McGonagall's voice, sharp and curt. "However, you two will have to wait your turn. Professor Dumbledore is expecting the two of them once Madam Pomphrey has checked them over."
"Malfoy," Weasley said, his voice a low, slow, angry rumble. He turned and spotted where Draco sat, brows drawn fiercely together, and started to stalk toward him. "What the fuck did you do, you spawn of…"
"Mr. Weasley! Language!" McGonagall scolded. Draco and the other boy ignored her, however, as they locked eyes. Frankly, Draco was a little tired for the kind of the fight Weasley clearly wanted, but he'd be damned if he'd let the other boy down.
"Me, Weasley?" he drawled, purposefully infuriating. "Why, I feel so special. Your friend Potter was along on this little adventure, why don't you try pounding on him first?"
Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but McGonagall beat him to it. "That's quite enough," she snapped. "Mr. Weasley! Miss Granger! Outside, both of you!" Her finger pointing right in Weasley's face seemed to make the tall redhead finally aware that he was about to pick a fight in front of multiple professors, and so he did as he was told. Not without a final killing glare at Draco, of course.
Draco dismissed the two from his mind as soon as the infirmary doors swung closed behind them, and instead looked over at Cara. She was lying still, right where he left her, with only the regular rise and fall of her chest to remind him that she was still alive. "Cara…" he said softly, needing to be sure she was still with him, still awake and not in some comatose state like her friend.
She turned her head at the sound of her name, and soft, dark, pain-filled eyes met his. "Hey," she said softly. "You ok?"
Draco couldn't stop the smile, soft and warm, that slipped out of him. "I'm fine," he lied. "Don't go to sleep, ok? Stay awake, let Madam Pomphrey get around to looking at you."
The door opened again, and he glanced up this time to see Professor Stone limp in. Her eyes swept the room, lingering on where Snape was bent over Ginny Weasley with the school healer, before taking note of the rest of them.
Draco dropped his eyes as she looked his way. He didn't want to see the reprimands, the disappointment that must be there. He'd managed to land four people, including himself, in the hospital ward. Two of them innocent girls who were now badly injured.
A cool hand was laid against his arm, and he jumped, startled to see that Professor Stone had managed to sneak up on him. "The crucio curse, Draco?" she asked quietly, and helpless he met her eyes, terrified of what he would see.
Instead of the recrimination, the guilt, he saw worry, relief, and enough care to start a lump forming in his throat. He managed to incline his head slightly in response as her fingers lightly probed the pulses on his wrist, inner arm and neck. Each touch of those cool hands was like a hot poker to his inflamed nerves and it was all he could do not to grimace in response.
Professor Stone finally sighed, and pulled from her pocked a bottle of a deep blue glass. "Take two swallows of this," she told him, pulling the stopper out and pressing it into his hand. Draco was still struggling with the lump in his throat, and so had to force himself to lift the bottle to his lips. Obediently he took two swallows, and to his amazement felt a delicious coolness begin to spread along his skin, soothing the blazing nerve endings. Professor Stone, meanwhile, was murmuring healing charms, mending the broken skin at his shoulder, his knee, and his hands. All places he'd forgotten about.
"Cara needs some," he managed to say, a harsh note in his voice. A soft touch landed against his cheek, his hair before Professor Stone turned away to the other bed. Draco just sat and focused on quelling the sudden burning in his eyes. He had no reason to feel that way, no reason to be fighting unexpected tears.
"Severus, Poppy," Professor Stone said, her voice raised and suddenly sharper. "You'd better come.
Draco jerked his head around at that, not noticing that there was no pain anymore and stared at Cara's limp form on the next bed. "Cara?" he said, a note of panic pushing it's way out. He clamped down on it, hard, and swallowed. "Cara?" he said again, more strongly.
Professor Stone was bent over her, wand out, muttering charms as Madam Pomphrey hurried over. The healer took one long look and her lips pinched tightly together, before her own wand came out and the two women began to work in tandem. Draco simply watched, chest tight with fear.
A heavier hand came down on his shoulder. "Dumbledore wants us," came Potter's voice behind him.
"Dumbledore can go hang," Draco hissed, swinging his legs around as he made to get up. Never taking his eyes off the prone figure before him. He wasn't leaving Cara, not when she lay so still and so white…
The hand tightened. "They won't let you stay," Potter's voice said behind him. "Trust me, I know. As soon as you get up, they'll remember you're here and kick you out." There was a wealth of bitterness in those words. Draco still stood tensed and ready to leap to Cara's side. "McGonagall's waiting."
The hand dropped away, but Draco didn't move. He didn't think he could. "Mr. Malfoy," came the Transfiguration Professor's strident tones. "Now, if you please."
Madam's Pomphrey's head popped up for a brief moment, frown in her eyes. "Go, Mr. Malfoy. You can't do anything here, and since Professor Stone already took care of you, you may as well see the Headmaster." And then she disappeared again, this time because a curtain was magically drawn about the bed, cutting off all of Draco's view.
Draco clenched his hand. Dammit all… he had to force himself to stand, to walk toward the doorway where McGonagall and Potter waited. He didn't spare them a glance but stepped right past. He knew where Dumbledore's office was. He wasn't going to wait on a bloody escort, because if he stopped, he was fairly sure he'd march right back into that hospital ward and start flinging hexes at whoever got in his way. None of which would be a terribly smart move on his part. Funny, he'd caught himself doing a lot of things that weren't necessarily terribly smart since Cara…
**********
Dumbledore was quiet, content to sit and study himself and Potter. Draco didn't say a word, just sat slumped into the comfortable armchair that had apparently been awaiting him. In a similar armchair, Potter sat in much the same way. Neither of them wanted to be there, neither of them wanted to say anything. It was peculiar, knowing he was thinking the same thing as the Boy Wonder.
Consequently, it was the old man behind the desk who broke the silence first. "Draco," he said, voice gentle, eyes blue and strangely kind. "Why don't you begin. Tell me about Bellatrix."
Draco didn't move. He wasn't terribly inclined to share the story with anyone, even the Headmaster. He might not despise the man as he had the first few years at Hogwarts, but neither was he a fan. He was warily impressed by the power, age and control the old wizard wielded.
Dumbledore continued to look at him with those eyes, however, and finally he found himself opening his mouth. "Bellatrix spent the summer at Malfoy Manor," he said curtly. "She said she was going to kill me for what happened last year… with my father," he forced out.
"Why didn't she kill you over the summer?" asked the Headmaster. Eyes still kind.
Draco sneered, almost instinctively. "She's enjoys the chase," he said, ice in his words.
Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Bellatrix was always a clever and canny girl," he said. "Even as a student, she enjoyed the anticipation of something more than the actual event." In the other armchair, Potter shifted slightly. Potter was royally ticked off for some reason, Draco realized. Interesting.
For some reason, the knowledge that the Boy Wonder was fuming made Draco relax just a bit. "She informed me, through letters, of her intents to continue and conclude the game after I arrived at Hogwarts," he continued coldly. "She also brought Cara McDouglas into the her threats."
Dumbledore nodded again. This time he looked toward Potter. "Harry?" he asked, voice mild.
"I was having dreams about Bellatrix," Potter said, words clipped and short. "Then I got a letter as well. I warned Draco earlier today." Hmm… Draco thought curiously. Potter was being awfully curt with the Headmaster. Interesting.
"Why did neither of you come to one of your professors, or myself, with any of this information?" Dumbledore finally said, eyes probing.
Potter was the one who spoke first. "It was none of your concern," he said in a flat voice.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "As Headmaster, everything that affects a student's welfare is my concern." Potter gave a soft snort at that statement and Draco found himself becoming very, very curious what all the undercurrents running through the room were. Between himself, the Boy Who Lived, and the old wizard behind the desk, there was a lot of tension filling the air. Far more than he'd expected. Clearly, there was something he didn't know going on.
"Perhaps the students do not feel the need to communicate every little thing with people who haven't shown them any of the same courtesy in return," Potter countered, anger creeping into his tone.
Dumbledore just looked at Potter for a long moment, and then turned back to Draco. He thought he caught a hint of sadness in the old man's eyes. "How did the events of this evening transpire?"
"Bellatrix planted a one-way portkey," Draco said in a flat tone, not dissimilar to the one Potter had used earlier. "Ginny Weasley apparently activated it accidentally. Cara followed. Potter and I went after them." Anger, hot and healthy and relieving was beginning to pump through him. He didn't need to be sitting here, discussing this after the fact with Dumbledore. Perhaps he could have asked for help earlier, but he had no desire to involve anyone in what he viewed as his private affairs.
Dumbledore tried to draw more out of the two of them, but neither boy was inclined to talk in great detail about the fight that evening. Finally the Headmaster sighed, blue eyes sad and weary. "It is late, and both of you have had a rough evening. I suggest you seek your beds, and I will speak to you again in the morning."
Potter rose quickly and gave a cool nod goodbye before striding out. Draco was right behind him. He was weary and worried and as he strode down the steps from the Headmaster's office, he turned in the direction of the Hospital wing. He was going to see Cara, if he had to hex his way in, he thought grimly.
**********
Draco stared out at the cold night sky. The stars were bright and the chilly temperatures seemed to make them sparkle even more than usual. He sat on the very bench in the Astronomy Tower he and Cara had frequented the last time they were there, and simply stared out at the stars.
Madam Pomphrey had caught him trying to sneak into the Hospital Ward, and had sent him on his way, very nearly boxing his ears. Which had made him straighten his spine and nearly snarl something furious at the woman. A Malfoy wasn't treated like an errant child, by anyone.
But she'd mentioned in her scolding that Cara was asleep, AND that she would be just fine, come the morning. And then she'd attempted to change her mind and drag him into the Ward to spend the night under her observation, and he had fled. He was not staying in the infirmary. It was too… insecure for him to sleep properly. And since he now knew that Cara would be all right, he was free to slink off and find a dark spot to brood in.
That was what he was doing now, brooding. Reliving moments from the past summer, from the previous years. The rage, the violence, the twisted lives that had mingled with his. The darkness that pervaded his family and everything they touched. Even he had managed to drag Cara down into that darkness, despite his avowal to do the opposite. Now, thanks to him, she lay asleep and injured on the far side of the castle.
He stared unseeing at the stars. How could he go forward, with this dark cloud that hung over himself and his very name. He would never be free of it, and anyone who tied themselves to him would never be free as well…
He was suddenly jolted out of his musings by the trap door opening. Instinctively his wand was out and pointed at the head that emerged. He didn't move as the person stepped out and turned to him.
"Hello, Draco," Harry Potter said coolly.