A/N Sorry for the distance between updates. I'm almost to the end of this and the closer I get the closer my wedding gets. My schedule is so full it's craziness, but I am determined to finish this before the wedding. Review a lot. It might make me write faster.
Lolua- Happiness Wheeeeeee…. Anyway. I'm expecting a good long review from you… you've not let me down yet.
Stroppy-Teenager- It does look grim. Draco may be developing a tendency towards the decent… but that doesn't mean everyone will like him. All will be okay in the end. I swear.
Serverus' wife - Thanks so much for reviewing. Did you read chapter 31? You ended at 30 so I wasn't sure. Again if you have questions email me.
(Draco)
Fatherhood never quite fit me. Even while Pansy was alive I could only manage clumsy efforts at caring for my child. She laughed when I put his diaper on backwards and teased me for days about my inability to successfully give an infant a bath. She insisted on breast-feeding and my stomach turned at the thought, I'd wander aimlessly about until they were done. The only thing I was good at back then was listening for him. Late at night I could hear his first moment of wakefulness, be up and at his side long before she could.
The first few weeks after her death were the hardest of my life. I desperately wanted to curl up and forget to live, but he kept crying. Those pitiful wails dragged me from my depression and forced me to do something, though, nothing I did was the right thing. He never ceased to howl. From early in the morning until late at night the house was filled with his constant need for his mother.
Pip did her best to care for both of us, cooking food and singing squeaky little elf lullabies, changing diapers and the bed linens. I did not notice, but she was working herself into a frenzy, all the while smiling and telling me that everything was just fine. Without her I would never have made it through.
Once Bane grew accustomed to his mother being gone, things were much quieter and we grew into a strange sort of routine. I woke with him at dawn and fed him a bottle of Madam Nora's Newborn Nourisher. There were several baby outfits to choose from and I would wrestle him into one of them, cringing at the cute designs. We ventured to Malfoy Manor for tea with my mother. She pretended to fuss over the baby, but I could see her stiffness and the forced way she smiled. Babies made her nervous. Soon after, we went home for dinner and Pip helped me put him to bed.
"Tuck him in tight now, Master Draco." She would squeak.
"Like this?"
"Mind his head."
With a tiny yawn my son was asleep.
As he grew it became more apparent that I was not meant to be a father. Playtime and food I could manage, but skinned knees and bumped elbows led to tears and I had no idea what to do for those. The first time he fell down and scraped his leg, I nearly cried with him out of pure frustration. His face screwed up and he called for me in a voice I hadn't heard before. Instinctively I scooped him up into my arms and carried him to the bathroom.
"Just a little scratch." I said after setting him on the toilet lid and having a look at the injury.
"Skatch?" He inquired, sniffling a little.
"Yes."
He was quiet while I searched the cabinet for a bandage or healing cream; finally I found something to keep away infections and dabbed a bit on his leg. More tears followed and I realized it must sting.
"It's okay, just hold on." Very gently, I blew cool air over the wound.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Bad." He whimpered and closed his eyes tight.
"Sometimes good things hurt." I explained and hugged him tightly.
The truth of those words hit me as I watched him sleep beside me on the unfamiliar bed. The years of poor parenting had caught up and I needed to make it right. He needed to know the truth before they came to question me. And yet, I hesitated to wake him. A peace had come over his features. Softly I brushed stray silvery hairs from his eyes and marveled at how much he resembled me.
There, in the dim light of the lamp, I searched for his mother, scanned his face almost frantically. My eyes, my hair, my nose… he was a Malfoy through and through. Just as I was about to give up the search, he smiled a little in his sleep. I needn't have worried; she was right there the whole time, hiding in his smile.
"Daddy?" He asked, opening his eyes and frowning, she was gone.
"Yes."
He yawned and then looked at me passively, the same face I had used for so many years to cover my emotions. I shifted until I was sitting up against the headboard.
"Are you okay?" He inquired curiously.
"Better."
"What happened to you?"
The question I had been dreading now hung between us. Despite how much he looked like me, there was still an air of innocence about him; I desperately wanted to spare him the loss of that. A thousand answers raced through my mind, each more unlikely than the last. One option remained, I would have to tell him the truth.
"Well," I began making sure he met my gaze, "Before I was born your grandmother and grandfather joined Lord Voldemort. You remember who he is?"
"He tried to purify the bloodline."
Somewhat startled by his response, I realized that he was simply repeating what my mother had told him.
"Grandmother told you that, didn't she?"
"Yes."
"He did this by killing as many muggle born wizards and witches as he could; any who opposed him were murdered as well. Lily's grandparents and three of her uncles were killed by him. Other times he would send his followers to torture and eventually execute those he thought unworthy to live. Neville's wife and Lily's other grandmother were attacked and killed in this way."
There was no change in his expression, but his eyes had hardened ever so slightly. Dangerous ground lay ahead, we both felt it coming.
"But Grandmother said…" He whispered.
"She lied."
"Why would she lie to me?"
"She wanted to control us. She wanted you and I to do whatever she said. You are a bit young to understand all of that, but your grandmother is not a good person."
"What did she do?" He asked sitting up against the headboard with me, his knees tucked beneath his chin.
"It's hard to explain. She and your grandfather had certain ideas, things that they believed in, and they worked very hard to make those beliefs come true. There is nothing wrong with believing in something or wanting something to happen, but they killed innocent people, and that is wrong."
He thought for a moment and again I saw his mother. In the furrow of his brow and the way his head tilted a little to the side as he concentrated, she was there.
"You tried to kill Lily and all of those other people."
I cringed.
"I wasn't myself then."
"Who were you?"
"Your grandparents did a spell when I was born. A spell to make me a bad person, worse than them. It worked and for a little while I was that person. I tried to stop myself from hurting anyone, but I was lost."
"Lily found you." He said simply and smiled a little.
"Yes."
"She fixed you."
"Yes."
"Can we go home?"
"Not yet."
"But she fixed you and you are better."
I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, "I hurt a lot of people, Bane. Now I have to answer for it."
For the first time since waking, I thought about what my fate would hold. There was no doubt in my mind that they would have some sort of trial, all of them asking me questions at once while I tried to think of answers. Eventually they would deliberate and decide what my sentence would be. Death, most likely. My only regret was that my son would be left in the care of his grandmother.
"Lily will tell them."
"While you and I know that Lily helped me, most adults don't take the word of a six year old seriously. "
"What will they do?" There was a hint of fear in his words.
"I don't know."
"I won't let them hurt you." He said defiantly.
"You will stay out of the way. No matter what happens, you keep your mouth shut."
We stared at each other a moment longer, the same stern look passing between us. His eyes dropped first and looked away into a dark corner of the room. A shimmer on the surface told me he was near crying and didn't want me to see. I closed my eyes and gave him his privacy.
(Ron)
There was a great satisfaction in making him ill at ease. He sat at the end of the table, hands folded carefully in his lap, posture as straight as always, but a sheen of perspiration had formed on his upper lip. Everyone stared with angry eyes as he calmly waited for us to begin. Harry had not arrived yet; he was having difficulty getting out of bed and Ginny had remained upstairs to help him. I glanced behind me and found Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Moody had arrived, all with somber looks on their faces.
"Shouldn't we take him to the Ministry?" My wife asked Dumbledore quietly.
"If that is the decision we come to."
"I just don't…" She was cut off by the door opening and Harry limping in, supported by my sister.
Nothing was said until he reached his chair near where Draco sat. His face was ashen but he was determined to hold out and finish this.
"I suppose we should start with what has happened over the past few days." He said clearly and looked around at all of us.
"I can explain, I think." Hermione said.
Harry nodded thankfully and waited while she summed up the events that had brought us here. From the corner of my eye I saw the three older men in the room frown at each other. As she came to end of her tale I saw Snape lean forward in his chair and look hard at Draco.
"He has not tried to hurt any of us since then. To be honest, I don't think his fate should be decided like this, there should be a formal trial and an official verdict." She concluded.
There was no doubt my wife was stubborn. Even after he betrayed her trust she was trying her damnedest to keep things fair. I, for one, simply wanted to watch him suffer.
"Thank you." Harry said, ignoring her last statement.
"From what I've heard here, I think perhaps it is time for Mr. Malfoy to explain himself." Snape spoke up.
"Yes." Several others in the room said in unison.
Silence followed, Draco said nothing.
"Nothing to say?" I spat.
"He's a Death Eater, who cares what he has to say?" Fred put in.
"I think we should all calm down and give him a chance to speak." Remus suggested.
There was an edge to his voice and we waited patiently.
"You have no reason to believe me and I don't know that any of you will." Draco said at last
"Just explain yourself so we can get on with this." Tonks said sounding tired.
He straightened his robes and looked at each of us in turn, never flinching, "I'm not sure where to begin."
"I find that the best place to begin is usually the beginning." Dumbledore offered.
"Very well, a few years ago I began to have headaches. Sometimes they would last for days, the pain growing worse until it reached a breaking point. They continued to increase in severity until I began having blackouts. I did not see a Healer because I feared my mother would use my illness as an excuse to take my son. One morning a few days ago I woke from one of those blackouts to find that my son was gone and I had somehow injured myself while sleeping."
"I don't see what this has to do with anything." Fred muttered.
"I assure you, it is important." Draco replied, "After retrieving Bane from my mother's house I learned several pieces of information that I thought might be of use to this group of people. Over the space of the next few days I was overcome with several headaches, the first of which happened here, during a meeting. I was carried upstairs where I passed out. When I woke Neville and his daughters had been attacked and Neville was injured."
"You expect us to believe that you just happened to pass out and don't remember a thing that happened? You don't remember trying to kill two little girls?" I asked angrily.
"I told you that you wouldn't believe me."
"You were right." I stated.
"Let him finish." Moody grunted.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back in my chair and waited.
"The next happened while Weasley, Potter and I were making our way through the forest. I fell, and when I woke up Potter was dead and Weasley was unconscious. I hefted the living one up and carried him out of the forest. I began to have visions of what I had done. Began to remember. Frightened of myself and my actions, I went to the only person I thought could answer my questions: My mother.
"As I had suspected, she knew everything that had been going on."
He stopped for a moment and looked at his hands. We didn't have time for this. It was obviously just a stall for time.
"She told me… she told me that I was not… that I was a vessel. Nothing more than a shell to hold something…"
"Could you elaborate on that?" Snape asked.
"Voldemort knew he was not immortal. He knew that someone might one day defeat him. So he and my father developed a spell, something to ensure that, in the unlikely event of his death, The Dark Lord would still be able to continue his quest for immortality."
Again he paused and I saw his jaw clench as though it were difficult for him talk about this.
"My father needed a child, one that was born for this purpose. There were other specifications: pure blood, loyalty to Voldemort and parents willing to let their child be used. My father volunteered for this … honor. Nine months later I was born. Not long after that Potter did his trick with the Killing Curse and all their plans were lost."
"I don't understand." Tonks said frowning.
"I was born empty. There was a gaping hole inside of me to make room for Voldemort's…being. I was created to serve a purpose, not out of love."
"If you were created to hold Voldemort, why did he not possess you the first time he was defeated?" Remus asked curiously.
"I was too young. It would have killed me eventually. However, the next time he was killed, the spell worked. My mother knew and began to control every aspect of my life, keeping me as close to her as possible. The headaches were the physical side-effects of the creature within me taking control. Every time I blacked out, he took over."
"So Voldemort is inside you right now?" I asked, not quite believing all of this was real.
"If you'll let me finish," He answered curtly, "During the battle in the forest he had completely taken control of my body, I watched from the inside as he tried to kill you all. I did manage to weaken his spells, to change them enough that they weren't deadly. My reflexes weren't fast enough to catch them all. I hoped that one of you would kill me and end it, but none of your spells had an affect. I am not sure why."
"The twins caught me off guard and I believe they burned the evil out of me. He was gone, but there were… wounds on the inside… I would have died… Lily fixed me." He stumbled over the last sentence.
Harry watched his childhood enemy intently, studying his every move. We all waited patiently until he was ready to speak. Despite how truthful Draco's story sounded I still could find no compassion within me. It was because of him I had spent he last few days in a state of panic and because of him my best friend had nearly died and because of him my son lay in bed upstairs, afraid to turn out the lights.
"I don't know." He finally said and looked around the table at all of us.
"How can you say that?" I was stunned.
"What?"
"You know we can't trust him. You know he tried to kill you. You know what he did to my son." My voice raised with every word.
He blinked a few times, "Yes. But it's not that simple."
"It couldn't be any simpler. He's evil, Harry. We knew it from the beginning."
"You don't understand."
"What is there to understand?"
It was like a knife to my heart. All the times I had stood by him, backed him up, and this was how he thanked me for it.
"You weren't there. Something had to stop him from killing us, what he said makes sense."
"So you are taking his side now?"
"No. I'm just saying that it's not unreasonable. If Voldemort can possess Ginny or me, then why not Malfoy?"
I threw my arms in the air, unable to contain myself any longer. Shoving my chair back, I stood and leaned across the table.
"Just last night you said he couldn't be trusted. You said he was the son of a Death Eater and that we could expect nothing better than lies from him. I heard you say it. You can't honestly tell me that you believe this nonsense." I growled.
"I didn't say I believed it. Just that it was possible." He said each word slowly and clearly, anger edging his voice.
Ears red, fists shaking I searched the faces around the table. No one said a word or made a move to agree with me. Even Fred, who had been so adamant at the beginning of the meeting, looked at me as though I had gone mad. My wife opened her mouth to say something, but closed it immediately.
"Mr. Weasley, I do think it's time to calm down." Dumbledore said quietly.
"Don't start with me, old man. Don't you dare tell me what to do. This past week I came close to losing my entire family, and it was all his doing." I jabbed a finger in Malfoy's direction, "I don't give a shit if he was possessed or if he simply ate some bad broth, he held the wand that tortured my son…"
"I'm sorry." Draco's hushed voice said.
"What?" I asked staring down the table.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your son." He said again, meeting my gaze.
"No. No. You don't get to say you're sorry."
"I know that it doesn't begin to make up for what he… I… we did…"
I watched his pupils dilate rapidly as I purposefully closed the space between us, wand pointed directly at his chest.
"The only payment I want is your blood."
A bead of sweat rolled down his face, but he remained perfectly still, eyes trained on mine.
"Then take it." He swallowed hard and his breathing quickened.
For a long minute we stared at each other. I saw his hands shaking as they gripped the arms of his chair and the way he clenched his jaw tightly. Both of us seemed to be waiting for something, he for death and I… I did not know what I waited for.
"I won't beg." He whispered so low I barely heard him.
I had not thought of that. My mind was so focused on watching him bleed, on the light slowly fading from his eyes, that it seemed foreign to hear him say such a thing.
"I don't want to die, but I won't beg." He repeated, fingernails digging desperately into the wood of his chair.
Suddenly I felt their eyes on me. Each person in the room was staring, waiting for me to act. Turning, I found several of them had risen to their feet, ready to stop me.
"Ron?" Hermione questioned plaintively.
Harry stood nearby, wand held loosely in his hand. I glared back at him.
"Fuck all of this." I said through clenched teeth.
"Ron?" Hermione tried again.
I ignored her and stalked from the room.
Lolua- Happiness Wheeeeeee…. Anyway. I'm expecting a good long review from you… you've not let me down yet.
Stroppy-Teenager- It does look grim. Draco may be developing a tendency towards the decent… but that doesn't mean everyone will like him. All will be okay in the end. I swear.
Serverus' wife - Thanks so much for reviewing. Did you read chapter 31? You ended at 30 so I wasn't sure. Again if you have questions email me.
(Draco)
Fatherhood never quite fit me. Even while Pansy was alive I could only manage clumsy efforts at caring for my child. She laughed when I put his diaper on backwards and teased me for days about my inability to successfully give an infant a bath. She insisted on breast-feeding and my stomach turned at the thought, I'd wander aimlessly about until they were done. The only thing I was good at back then was listening for him. Late at night I could hear his first moment of wakefulness, be up and at his side long before she could.
The first few weeks after her death were the hardest of my life. I desperately wanted to curl up and forget to live, but he kept crying. Those pitiful wails dragged me from my depression and forced me to do something, though, nothing I did was the right thing. He never ceased to howl. From early in the morning until late at night the house was filled with his constant need for his mother.
Pip did her best to care for both of us, cooking food and singing squeaky little elf lullabies, changing diapers and the bed linens. I did not notice, but she was working herself into a frenzy, all the while smiling and telling me that everything was just fine. Without her I would never have made it through.
Once Bane grew accustomed to his mother being gone, things were much quieter and we grew into a strange sort of routine. I woke with him at dawn and fed him a bottle of Madam Nora's Newborn Nourisher. There were several baby outfits to choose from and I would wrestle him into one of them, cringing at the cute designs. We ventured to Malfoy Manor for tea with my mother. She pretended to fuss over the baby, but I could see her stiffness and the forced way she smiled. Babies made her nervous. Soon after, we went home for dinner and Pip helped me put him to bed.
"Tuck him in tight now, Master Draco." She would squeak.
"Like this?"
"Mind his head."
With a tiny yawn my son was asleep.
As he grew it became more apparent that I was not meant to be a father. Playtime and food I could manage, but skinned knees and bumped elbows led to tears and I had no idea what to do for those. The first time he fell down and scraped his leg, I nearly cried with him out of pure frustration. His face screwed up and he called for me in a voice I hadn't heard before. Instinctively I scooped him up into my arms and carried him to the bathroom.
"Just a little scratch." I said after setting him on the toilet lid and having a look at the injury.
"Skatch?" He inquired, sniffling a little.
"Yes."
He was quiet while I searched the cabinet for a bandage or healing cream; finally I found something to keep away infections and dabbed a bit on his leg. More tears followed and I realized it must sting.
"It's okay, just hold on." Very gently, I blew cool air over the wound.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Bad." He whimpered and closed his eyes tight.
"Sometimes good things hurt." I explained and hugged him tightly.
The truth of those words hit me as I watched him sleep beside me on the unfamiliar bed. The years of poor parenting had caught up and I needed to make it right. He needed to know the truth before they came to question me. And yet, I hesitated to wake him. A peace had come over his features. Softly I brushed stray silvery hairs from his eyes and marveled at how much he resembled me.
There, in the dim light of the lamp, I searched for his mother, scanned his face almost frantically. My eyes, my hair, my nose… he was a Malfoy through and through. Just as I was about to give up the search, he smiled a little in his sleep. I needn't have worried; she was right there the whole time, hiding in his smile.
"Daddy?" He asked, opening his eyes and frowning, she was gone.
"Yes."
He yawned and then looked at me passively, the same face I had used for so many years to cover my emotions. I shifted until I was sitting up against the headboard.
"Are you okay?" He inquired curiously.
"Better."
"What happened to you?"
The question I had been dreading now hung between us. Despite how much he looked like me, there was still an air of innocence about him; I desperately wanted to spare him the loss of that. A thousand answers raced through my mind, each more unlikely than the last. One option remained, I would have to tell him the truth.
"Well," I began making sure he met my gaze, "Before I was born your grandmother and grandfather joined Lord Voldemort. You remember who he is?"
"He tried to purify the bloodline."
Somewhat startled by his response, I realized that he was simply repeating what my mother had told him.
"Grandmother told you that, didn't she?"
"Yes."
"He did this by killing as many muggle born wizards and witches as he could; any who opposed him were murdered as well. Lily's grandparents and three of her uncles were killed by him. Other times he would send his followers to torture and eventually execute those he thought unworthy to live. Neville's wife and Lily's other grandmother were attacked and killed in this way."
There was no change in his expression, but his eyes had hardened ever so slightly. Dangerous ground lay ahead, we both felt it coming.
"But Grandmother said…" He whispered.
"She lied."
"Why would she lie to me?"
"She wanted to control us. She wanted you and I to do whatever she said. You are a bit young to understand all of that, but your grandmother is not a good person."
"What did she do?" He asked sitting up against the headboard with me, his knees tucked beneath his chin.
"It's hard to explain. She and your grandfather had certain ideas, things that they believed in, and they worked very hard to make those beliefs come true. There is nothing wrong with believing in something or wanting something to happen, but they killed innocent people, and that is wrong."
He thought for a moment and again I saw his mother. In the furrow of his brow and the way his head tilted a little to the side as he concentrated, she was there.
"You tried to kill Lily and all of those other people."
I cringed.
"I wasn't myself then."
"Who were you?"
"Your grandparents did a spell when I was born. A spell to make me a bad person, worse than them. It worked and for a little while I was that person. I tried to stop myself from hurting anyone, but I was lost."
"Lily found you." He said simply and smiled a little.
"Yes."
"She fixed you."
"Yes."
"Can we go home?"
"Not yet."
"But she fixed you and you are better."
I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, "I hurt a lot of people, Bane. Now I have to answer for it."
For the first time since waking, I thought about what my fate would hold. There was no doubt in my mind that they would have some sort of trial, all of them asking me questions at once while I tried to think of answers. Eventually they would deliberate and decide what my sentence would be. Death, most likely. My only regret was that my son would be left in the care of his grandmother.
"Lily will tell them."
"While you and I know that Lily helped me, most adults don't take the word of a six year old seriously. "
"What will they do?" There was a hint of fear in his words.
"I don't know."
"I won't let them hurt you." He said defiantly.
"You will stay out of the way. No matter what happens, you keep your mouth shut."
We stared at each other a moment longer, the same stern look passing between us. His eyes dropped first and looked away into a dark corner of the room. A shimmer on the surface told me he was near crying and didn't want me to see. I closed my eyes and gave him his privacy.
(Ron)
There was a great satisfaction in making him ill at ease. He sat at the end of the table, hands folded carefully in his lap, posture as straight as always, but a sheen of perspiration had formed on his upper lip. Everyone stared with angry eyes as he calmly waited for us to begin. Harry had not arrived yet; he was having difficulty getting out of bed and Ginny had remained upstairs to help him. I glanced behind me and found Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Moody had arrived, all with somber looks on their faces.
"Shouldn't we take him to the Ministry?" My wife asked Dumbledore quietly.
"If that is the decision we come to."
"I just don't…" She was cut off by the door opening and Harry limping in, supported by my sister.
Nothing was said until he reached his chair near where Draco sat. His face was ashen but he was determined to hold out and finish this.
"I suppose we should start with what has happened over the past few days." He said clearly and looked around at all of us.
"I can explain, I think." Hermione said.
Harry nodded thankfully and waited while she summed up the events that had brought us here. From the corner of my eye I saw the three older men in the room frown at each other. As she came to end of her tale I saw Snape lean forward in his chair and look hard at Draco.
"He has not tried to hurt any of us since then. To be honest, I don't think his fate should be decided like this, there should be a formal trial and an official verdict." She concluded.
There was no doubt my wife was stubborn. Even after he betrayed her trust she was trying her damnedest to keep things fair. I, for one, simply wanted to watch him suffer.
"Thank you." Harry said, ignoring her last statement.
"From what I've heard here, I think perhaps it is time for Mr. Malfoy to explain himself." Snape spoke up.
"Yes." Several others in the room said in unison.
Silence followed, Draco said nothing.
"Nothing to say?" I spat.
"He's a Death Eater, who cares what he has to say?" Fred put in.
"I think we should all calm down and give him a chance to speak." Remus suggested.
There was an edge to his voice and we waited patiently.
"You have no reason to believe me and I don't know that any of you will." Draco said at last
"Just explain yourself so we can get on with this." Tonks said sounding tired.
He straightened his robes and looked at each of us in turn, never flinching, "I'm not sure where to begin."
"I find that the best place to begin is usually the beginning." Dumbledore offered.
"Very well, a few years ago I began to have headaches. Sometimes they would last for days, the pain growing worse until it reached a breaking point. They continued to increase in severity until I began having blackouts. I did not see a Healer because I feared my mother would use my illness as an excuse to take my son. One morning a few days ago I woke from one of those blackouts to find that my son was gone and I had somehow injured myself while sleeping."
"I don't see what this has to do with anything." Fred muttered.
"I assure you, it is important." Draco replied, "After retrieving Bane from my mother's house I learned several pieces of information that I thought might be of use to this group of people. Over the space of the next few days I was overcome with several headaches, the first of which happened here, during a meeting. I was carried upstairs where I passed out. When I woke Neville and his daughters had been attacked and Neville was injured."
"You expect us to believe that you just happened to pass out and don't remember a thing that happened? You don't remember trying to kill two little girls?" I asked angrily.
"I told you that you wouldn't believe me."
"You were right." I stated.
"Let him finish." Moody grunted.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back in my chair and waited.
"The next happened while Weasley, Potter and I were making our way through the forest. I fell, and when I woke up Potter was dead and Weasley was unconscious. I hefted the living one up and carried him out of the forest. I began to have visions of what I had done. Began to remember. Frightened of myself and my actions, I went to the only person I thought could answer my questions: My mother.
"As I had suspected, she knew everything that had been going on."
He stopped for a moment and looked at his hands. We didn't have time for this. It was obviously just a stall for time.
"She told me… she told me that I was not… that I was a vessel. Nothing more than a shell to hold something…"
"Could you elaborate on that?" Snape asked.
"Voldemort knew he was not immortal. He knew that someone might one day defeat him. So he and my father developed a spell, something to ensure that, in the unlikely event of his death, The Dark Lord would still be able to continue his quest for immortality."
Again he paused and I saw his jaw clench as though it were difficult for him talk about this.
"My father needed a child, one that was born for this purpose. There were other specifications: pure blood, loyalty to Voldemort and parents willing to let their child be used. My father volunteered for this … honor. Nine months later I was born. Not long after that Potter did his trick with the Killing Curse and all their plans were lost."
"I don't understand." Tonks said frowning.
"I was born empty. There was a gaping hole inside of me to make room for Voldemort's…being. I was created to serve a purpose, not out of love."
"If you were created to hold Voldemort, why did he not possess you the first time he was defeated?" Remus asked curiously.
"I was too young. It would have killed me eventually. However, the next time he was killed, the spell worked. My mother knew and began to control every aspect of my life, keeping me as close to her as possible. The headaches were the physical side-effects of the creature within me taking control. Every time I blacked out, he took over."
"So Voldemort is inside you right now?" I asked, not quite believing all of this was real.
"If you'll let me finish," He answered curtly, "During the battle in the forest he had completely taken control of my body, I watched from the inside as he tried to kill you all. I did manage to weaken his spells, to change them enough that they weren't deadly. My reflexes weren't fast enough to catch them all. I hoped that one of you would kill me and end it, but none of your spells had an affect. I am not sure why."
"The twins caught me off guard and I believe they burned the evil out of me. He was gone, but there were… wounds on the inside… I would have died… Lily fixed me." He stumbled over the last sentence.
Harry watched his childhood enemy intently, studying his every move. We all waited patiently until he was ready to speak. Despite how truthful Draco's story sounded I still could find no compassion within me. It was because of him I had spent he last few days in a state of panic and because of him my best friend had nearly died and because of him my son lay in bed upstairs, afraid to turn out the lights.
"I don't know." He finally said and looked around the table at all of us.
"How can you say that?" I was stunned.
"What?"
"You know we can't trust him. You know he tried to kill you. You know what he did to my son." My voice raised with every word.
He blinked a few times, "Yes. But it's not that simple."
"It couldn't be any simpler. He's evil, Harry. We knew it from the beginning."
"You don't understand."
"What is there to understand?"
It was like a knife to my heart. All the times I had stood by him, backed him up, and this was how he thanked me for it.
"You weren't there. Something had to stop him from killing us, what he said makes sense."
"So you are taking his side now?"
"No. I'm just saying that it's not unreasonable. If Voldemort can possess Ginny or me, then why not Malfoy?"
I threw my arms in the air, unable to contain myself any longer. Shoving my chair back, I stood and leaned across the table.
"Just last night you said he couldn't be trusted. You said he was the son of a Death Eater and that we could expect nothing better than lies from him. I heard you say it. You can't honestly tell me that you believe this nonsense." I growled.
"I didn't say I believed it. Just that it was possible." He said each word slowly and clearly, anger edging his voice.
Ears red, fists shaking I searched the faces around the table. No one said a word or made a move to agree with me. Even Fred, who had been so adamant at the beginning of the meeting, looked at me as though I had gone mad. My wife opened her mouth to say something, but closed it immediately.
"Mr. Weasley, I do think it's time to calm down." Dumbledore said quietly.
"Don't start with me, old man. Don't you dare tell me what to do. This past week I came close to losing my entire family, and it was all his doing." I jabbed a finger in Malfoy's direction, "I don't give a shit if he was possessed or if he simply ate some bad broth, he held the wand that tortured my son…"
"I'm sorry." Draco's hushed voice said.
"What?" I asked staring down the table.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your son." He said again, meeting my gaze.
"No. No. You don't get to say you're sorry."
"I know that it doesn't begin to make up for what he… I… we did…"
I watched his pupils dilate rapidly as I purposefully closed the space between us, wand pointed directly at his chest.
"The only payment I want is your blood."
A bead of sweat rolled down his face, but he remained perfectly still, eyes trained on mine.
"Then take it." He swallowed hard and his breathing quickened.
For a long minute we stared at each other. I saw his hands shaking as they gripped the arms of his chair and the way he clenched his jaw tightly. Both of us seemed to be waiting for something, he for death and I… I did not know what I waited for.
"I won't beg." He whispered so low I barely heard him.
I had not thought of that. My mind was so focused on watching him bleed, on the light slowly fading from his eyes, that it seemed foreign to hear him say such a thing.
"I don't want to die, but I won't beg." He repeated, fingernails digging desperately into the wood of his chair.
Suddenly I felt their eyes on me. Each person in the room was staring, waiting for me to act. Turning, I found several of them had risen to their feet, ready to stop me.
"Ron?" Hermione questioned plaintively.
Harry stood nearby, wand held loosely in his hand. I glared back at him.
"Fuck all of this." I said through clenched teeth.
"Ron?" Hermione tried again.
I ignored her and stalked from the room.