Evocation 05

• Erudition •

"I know who it is," Draco said quietly.

Harry blinked and gaped. He was surprised that Draco had held back for so long. But, he shouldn't have been. Draco was remarkably smart for how stupid he was. It was extremely irritating as well. Still, it had kept him alive.

Narcissa didn't reply right away and Harry wondered why. If she knew he knew, she might try and calm the situation, break his anger down. But, she hadn't tried that and Harry wondered why. There had to be something, some reason for her silence. Surprise didn't keep her silent, not unless it was something that was beyond surprising, something that was astonishing, and Draco knowing who he was wasn't close to that.

Perhaps he was grandstanding, trying to bluff his way into her telling. Harry hoped it was so, he'd only had one person ever discover their secret. Someone who had seen them together and made the connection, then gone beyond his position and checked into it, finding out as much as he could.

It was Tonks' birthday when he approached. Harry remembered how angry he'd been when it first happened. Now he had thoughts as to why it had been chosen then. Dumbledore had been looking for emotion, something Harry hadn't shown him since before he graduated from Hogwarts. Something that was kept from him, so that Dumbledore knew he no longer affected Harry even if that wasn't the real reason.

•

He was waiting behind the pillar at the entrance to the graveyard. He knew because there were only two people in the world who had known where he would be. Of the two, Luna and Dumbledore, Dumbledore was the only one who would disturb his privacy and come here. Luna had other ways of contacting him that would be much quicker and she knew that when he was ready she would be invited. It was the same when she went to Ron's grave.

Harry stopped immediately, wondering if he should continue forward. He'd just spoken to Tonks for an hour and really didn't feel like being brought back to reality by the meddlesome old man. He finally sighed and took another step forward, knowing that it would go much quicker to deal with it now than to find Dumbledore waiting around every corner.

He closed his eyes and continued past the entrance, not even glancing toward Dumbledore. He hoped if he ignored the man that he would let Harry go. There was no way that he would have missed Dumbledore, the man made no effort to hide other than to stay out of sight.

"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, as if trying not to scare him, but to startle him to reality.

Harry didn't even hesitate, he just continued forward, hoping the man would get the point.

"I have something to talk to you about. Something I fear stems from your loss of Tonks."

For a moment he did hesitate this time, and Harry's face locked tight. He turned, his face completely void of emotions, which took a great deal of work because of how blatant Dumbledore was. "What is it you want?" Harry asked, his voice sharp as a knife. Generally he was able to retain control of it, but at the moment he was having a difficult enough time not cursing Dumbledore or leaving altogether.

"You're seeing a woman now," Dumbledore said as Harry looked to him. "Narcissa Malfoy."

"You've not lost a bit of your wit." Harry said, ignoring the comment as best he could. "You certainly have a knack for showing up when I need it least."

'I don't understand how you can consort with that woman," Dumbledore said quietly. "She is the wife of Lucius Malfoy, one of the men responsible for killing Tonks and Hermione. She is the mother of Draco, who has been named a Death Eater, though unfortunately no proof has been brought forward."

"Always trying to interfere with my business," Harry said with a sarcastic laugh. "It's as if you think you're my father or something."

"Harry, I do not feel as if I'm your father, I am only trying to keep you from making mistakes in your life that could cause you harm."," Dumbledore said, looking slightly disturbed. He was older looking now, older than he'd looked ever. A lot of witches and wizards were relieved when Voldemort fell, but not Dumbledore, he was moving on to the next thing, trying to save the world from everyone else that might hurt it. He seemed like the worlds perfect optimist, but in reality he was one of its avid pessimists.

"By interfering with my life it only makes me want to hate you more," Harry said, looking to Dumbledore and letting some of the anger seep into his eyes. Even though he hadn't been drinking for a long time and he was becoming quite successful in life he hadn't lost the pain that Dumbledore and Voldemort had caused him, nor would he forget either of them for it. He'd killed Voldemort, but he couldn't kill Dumbledore.

There was a long sigh, a sign that Dumbledore was thinking. He was brilliant at covering himself, but Harry knew him better than anyone alive, he'd trained under the man for a full year and seen things that he hated to remember. "I know you hate me Harry," he responded. "I have accepted that you will not ever understand what I had to do, but I am telling you this as the man you once called a friend. That woman will cause your death. Have you not forgotten that she was the cause of Sirius' death as well? The person who Kreacher spoke to?"

Harry looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes, knowing that he shouldn't. Something like that would cause a battle of the minds, and Harry really didn't want to battle with Dumbledore. There was a reason that Voldemort had been afraid of him, and it was the same reason Harry had trained under him. The man was strong even for an old man.

"I know that you lied to me," Harry said with a deadly quiet. There were things he'd found out during the war that made him cold inside, things that Dumbledore had done. Like springing the prophecy on him right after Sirius' death. It had served many purposes, one of them was to break down Harry's will to keep people alive. He knew about the Cruciatus curse Harry had used and never told him. He'd known about the hate and used it. While he wouldn't delve into the dark arts he wasn't against guiding someone else through them, someone like Harry who obviously had a knack for them. The curse, while not working properly, had worked which was something to be afraid of.

The words caught Dumbledore by surprise. He wasn't sure how to respond to them. Kreacher had gone to Narcissa, that was the truth, but she had not been the one to attain the information, she had sent him back to the family. Of course, Lucius had let slip where Bellatrix was, and Kreacher had turned to her since she was still a part of the family. Narcissa had been an unwitting accomplice, and Dumbledore had used her to keep Harry from ever consorting with the Malfoys. He'd been afraid that Draco would be able to get in under Harry's skin through treachery, and so he'd made some slight changes to the story of Kreachers betrayal.

"Did she tell you that I lied?" Dumbledore asked, a slight twitch on his lips. Harry knew why, he was going to try and play it off, pretend that he hadn't lied. Harry knew better.

"No," he said venomously. "I dragged the story from Kreachers mouth before I killed him."

Dumbledore visibly paled. Kreacher had disappeared during Harry's seventh year, and Harry had seemed relieved. The old man could not have believed that Harry killed the elf, not at that time. When no one found the elf they had decided that whatever he could tell Voldemort's ranks did not matter..

"You didn't," Dumbledore said weakly. "You couldn't have."

"I took off his head," Harry said with a smiled that would have made the dead shiver in their graves. "He requested it more than a few times, and as heir to my godfather's possessions it was my right. Don't worry, he told me a lot of things that he'd been told to keep within the order, things he'd seen or heard that I had no knowledge of."

"You..." Dumbledore said, but stopped. Harry had never seen the man gape, but there he was, lips open, no words coming from his mouth. He looked like a fish out of water.

"I knew," Harry said quietly. "I knew everything. I knew exactly what you had planned, exactly what you thought I could do. I went along with it at the time because I knew that it was the best chance we had for destroying Voldemort, and that was something I wouldn't back down from, not after what you'd done to me. I couldn't back down; I couldn't just let him take over. I learned what I could, sapped you from every bit of information you had, and then I took more. I destroyed you from the inside, breaking down the order before you could cause the same problems that you did years before."

"Why are you with her?" Dumbledore asked, trying to guide the conversation away from him and to something else that Harry could latch on to.

"You never figured it out," Harry continued, ignoring Dumbledore's attempts to try and control the conversation again. "I stole away every bit of control of the war you had. I sabotaged the ministry with my own spies, I took away your spies one by one, I left you with nothing and then destroyed him. I killed because it was what needed to be done."

Tears were making tiny rivers down Dumbledore's face and Harry smiled with grim satisfaction. He'd hated himself for it, but he wouldn't tell the old man that, he wasn't going to tell him that by destroying what Dumbledore had created he'd destroyed something inside himself, something that had kept him going. He knew he'd turned into something that was a mix of Dumbledore and Voldemort, he'd bridged the gap between the men and been changed by it. Changed forever.

"She helps me stay alive," Harry said, finally turning the conversation to Narcissa. "She makes me keep going. She helped me become a better person."

The breeze picked up, blowing leaves around the empty graves not far behind Harry and toying with his already windswept hair. He seemed to be stronger than he had when he'd come into the graveyard. It seemed that getting the secrets out had taken some of the hidden pain away, what pain still remained.

"We have a beneficial relationship."

"Beneficial?" asked Dumbledore, trying to keep from breaking down. Harry could see it in his eyes, see how close he was to the edge. Harry hated and loved himself for doing it. He wouldn't ever forgive the old man, but he wasn't sure if he could destroy him, so he let it go, let the old man cling to whatever was left.

"We fuck," Harry stated.

Dumbledore blinked once, then blinked again. It seemed that the two words had surprised him as much as everything else had.

"She does not ask anything of you?" he inquired.

"She asks me to come over so we can do it every night," Harry said with a snort. He thought it was funny, telling Dumbledore such truths. Making the old man feel a little embarrassed and surprised, catching him off guard.

"Sometimes we just sleep together," Harry said with a laugh. "I just come over and lay with her in her husbands bed, right where he used to sleep. She finds me a wonderful lover and a great companion for the nights."

"Surely she is looking for something else... your business..."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it, Dumbledore grasping at straws, it was fantastic. He hadn't planned it either, it was something that had just happened. It was almost worth talking to the man to see this happen.

"Our business is exactly that," Harry snapped. "It is a business, we are partners, she takes care of the business end, I bring in more sales by showing my face at every press conference. It makes a great combination."

"Why Harry? Why her?"

"She's great in bed, and she doesn't just want to sleep with me because I'm the boy-who-lived. I don't have to worry about her telling the press, she rather enjoys keeping our relationship a secret." Harry replied, smirking. He was thoroughly enjoying making Dumbledore the fool.

"There are other options," Dumbledore offered. "There is a business in Hogsmeade that provides services, discreet services that are guaranteed. If that is what you are looking for they would keep you both satisfied and out of the spotlight."

It was all Harry could do not to laugh. He knew what Dumbledore was talking about, a hen-house, or a whore-house, whichever term would fit it best. Full of promiscuous woman who would do anything you wanted for money. Just the thought of Dumbledore using them was funny, and something that Harry didn't really want to know about.

Harry turned to leave, but stopped, having a final though. He turned back to Dumbledore, throwing aside the tendrils of thought that stemmed from Dumbledore's eyes. "Swear you'll not communicate of anything you heard from me, or anything you know of my relationship with Narcissa and I will leave you in peace."

Dumbledore's eyes widened, a sign that he was startled at the request. Harry wouldn't let it go though, not after what he'd told Dumbledore. Things that only Luna knew, things that never needed to be discussed again.

"Do it," he hissed, letting out a hint of the power he held. He could kill Dumbledore if it came to that, and if it was between the possibility of going to Azkaban for the rest of his life or killing the old man he knew the answer. He would not go to Azkaban, but neither would he kill Dumbledore. Still, Dumbledore didn't know that.

Dumbledore hung his head resignedly. "I swear I will not communicate anything that was spoken of today or of the relationship between you and Narcissa."

•

That was the end of it. It had happened a long time ago, when the business was still only two shops. Things had changed since then, but not much.

• Updated 2004.11.24 •