Reaching Maturity
Disclaimer: I have news for you – THEY'RE NOT MINE.
A/N: brief (VERY brief) reference to Macbeth in here…
Author responses to chapter 27:
Oooooh, looks like I managed to surprise some of you with Lucius' death! ¤grins like the Cheshire cat¤ As for Pettigrew, a quick, painless death was far too good for him. Sirius really isn't one of my favourite characters at all, but I wanted him to get some satisfaction!
As for Draco, it remains to be seen as to how he reacts to the deaths of his parents. And I had to have Hannah comfort him!
The whole Sirius-being-dead thing: I did point out at the start of this fic that this was written about a year before OotP came out but I like it so much that I really wanted to post it anyway so it became AU, although I've made it as OotP-compatible as I could (with the obvious exception of Sirius still being alive – his role is too important and too Siriusy for anyone else to take over).
And, including this one, there are five more chapters to go. I can't believe I've got so few left! I've been posting since October 21st, so for over 7 months now! I'm on target to get the final chapter up before HBP comes out in LESS THAN TWO MONTHS!
GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EXAMS.
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Chapter 28: Freedom and Solicitors
For the four students, the next few days passed in a blur. The day after the end of the war, Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore went up to London with a caged Wormtail, while the others went to a huge street party in the mainly-wizarding village Lupin lived in. it was early evening when the three travellers returned, triumphant.
They suddenly Apparated right behind Harry. Sirius grabbed his godson and, despite Harry's weight, swung him round. "I'm free!" he yelled to all within hearing range – which was every inhabitant in the village. "We showed Pettigrew to the Ministry officials and they turned him into his human form. They're putting him through intense questioning under Veritaserum as we speak. But his mere existence was proof of my innocence, so I am a free man at last. There are going to be a series of articles in the Daily Prophet about it."
Harry hugged him tightly. He couldn't believe that Sirius was finally going to be cleared, and he was completely overjoyed by the news. They had waited so long for this.
The party carried on well into the early hours of Sunday morning, and was thoroughly enjoyed by everyone present. People were able to talk freely for the first time in years, and shared their experiences of the war with each other. There was also much mourning, for those who had been lost during both wars were not to be forgotten.
Dumbledore finally dragged away the crowd staying at Lupin's at about three o'clock in the morning. The days after the party were spent reasonably quietly at Lupin's. They discussed the battle, read, played games and let Snape teach them further potions. He was amazingly pleasant to them – mainly because Hermione accidentally discovered a potion that, when applied, removed the hideous Dark Mark from Snape's arm. It actually provoked a smile from the dour teacher.
Hannah wasn't paying much attention to the lessons she attended – Draco had done very little besides sleep since their return from the battlefield, and he was plagued by horrific nightmares of the battle and his father's death. The dark circles under his eyes grew more and more pronounced in his colourless face and he barely ate.
After a week of this, it was decided that Draco and Hermione should swap rooms, as Draco responded to Hannah far more than he did to anyone else, and was comforted by her presence. They could be trusted to not get up to anything, as could Harry and Hermione. The room swap seemed to work, and by the time June rolled round, he had made a decided improvement.
On June second, Harry and Hermione slipped out of the house for a quiet walk. The sky was a gorgeous, cloudless blue and the sun warmed them pleasantly. After ambling along, hand in hand, for a while, Harry stopped. "You know, Hermione, I wouldn't have got through this without you."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" replied Hermione, a slight blush creeping across her face.
"I mean it," insisted Harry.
"Rubbish. It's all because of you, the Boy Who Lived. You killed Voldemort!"
Harry shrugged. "I did have some help from Godric Gryffindor." He brushed the fingers of his free hand against the now-familiar hilt of the sword at his waist. "I think we all helped each other through this. You, me, Draco and Hannah. But for me, you were the driving force. You were the one that was always there for me." He paused, then took her hand, his green eyes boring intensely into hers. He hoped she couldn't feel his hands shaking or sweating from nerves. He had to do this, and now. He'd been working himself up to this for a while, and this was The Moment. If he didn't do it now, he never would. "I don't want to be away from you again. Marry me, Hermione."
"What! Harry – we're so young…"
"We can take as long as you like," he said hurriedly. He gave her a beseeching look. "Please…Say yes."
Hermione leaned forward and gently brushed her lips against his. Now was not the time for the deeper, more passionate kind that they had frequently engaged in during the past year. "Is that enough of an answer?" she whispered.
Harry nodded and hugged her tightly. They stood there in that embrace for a long time, simply enjoying each other's presence.
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Hannah and Draco, meanwhile, were sitting out in the garden in the shade of the big oak tree. Draco was sketching and painting, his book since the battle a mixture of battle scenes and peaceful, beautiful landscapes straight from his imagination. The former were harsh, bold, dark; the latter were pale, seeming as though the colour had faded.
There was also, although she did not yet know it, one of Hannah, with every last detail painstakingly added in. Hannah was leaning back against the tree, watching Draco carefully. He was still extremely fragile, tiring easily, and it came as no surprise when, a few minutes later, he put his brush down and sank back against the tree, coughing hard and struggling for breath.
"Are you OK?" asked Hannah anxiously. "That doesn't sound too good."
Draco gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine. Just tired. It's pretty hot today. The heat's getting to me. I've never been very good in hot weather."
"Probably," she agreed, slipping her hand into his and squeezing it tightly.
He sat up, pulling his hand away, and drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them protectively. Idly he gazed up into the sky, unable to look at Hannah. "Do you think I'm awful if I say I'm glad my father's dead?" he asked hesitantly, almost fearfully. "I mean, I know he was my father, but he…he was evil. He killed people – innocent people – he boasted about the murders…he tried to kill me, his own son…Never mind what else he did to me." He shivered involuntarily, despite the heat and sunshine.
Hannah knelt behind him, arms circling his thin waist. "You're not a bad person, Draco," she told him fiercely. "I don't blame you one bit. And you know something? If Lucius had killed you out there, I wouldn't have rested until he knew what a big mistake he'd made and that he had paid for it."
"What do you mean?" He wearily laid his head against her chest, closing his eyes.
"I mean, he'd never see the light of day again."
"You never used to be this vindictive."
She shrugged, a wry smile on her face. "Your influence, I suspect. After all, it's the sort of thing you'd do."
He paused, considering this statement, then laughed softly. "You're right. If Mother had killed you, I wouldn't have hesitated in going after her. Both my parents were evil; both were Death Eaters. They used to rule my life. My future was all mapped out – make me a Death Eater, train me in the 'family business' – which in all likelihood would have involved the trading of and dealing in Dark objects – and marry me off to Pansy Parkinson." He pulled an expression of sheer revulsion. "I couldn't imagine anything worse; it would be a fate worse than death."
"You're not going to, are you? Marry Pansy, I mean?" asked Hannah anxiously.
"What do you take me for?" cried Draco in mock outrage. "Anyway, haven't you read today's Prophet?"
"I would have done, but Dumbledore has one copy and I think he took it with him when he left this morning for London, and Snape's currently got the other one down in the lab. So no, I haven't. Why?"
"Pansy got caught, along with her older brother. Awaiting trial for Azkaban. There's also rumours that Fudge is on his way out of office." He reached up for her hand. "I was up early so I got a chance to read the paper before anyone else."
Hannah gave him a sharp look. "How early?" she demanded.
Silence.
"Draco…How early?" she repeated.
He sighed heavily. "I got up at quarter past six."
"When did you wake up?"
"About four-thirty," he muttered. He sighed. "I can't sleep, Han. It's too hard; when I do sleep, all I see is the battle and death and horrible things and – and Father's death. So I try to not sleep."
She got up and crouched down in front of him, giving his thin shoulders a short, fierce shake. "Are you deliberately trying to make yourself ill, Draco?" she demanded harshly, her normally peaceful blue eyes burning into his grey ones. "If you carry on like this, you'll kill yourself!"
"No I won't!" he shot back angrily, leaping to his feet. He seemed suddenly like the old Draco Malfoy, the cold, unpleasant Draco Malfoy that most of the school had feared. "And why can't you just keep out of it for once!" He stormed into the house, banging the door behind him angrily, thundering up the stairs – earning himself an odd look from Sirius as he swept through the kitchen – and flinging himself onto his bed, where he lay staring up at the ceiling, furious.
"Oops," Hannah remarked to herself as she watched him go, her heart plummeting. She hung her head in defeat. She had blown it, completely and utterly.
A shadow fell across her. "Hannah?" asked Sirius, concerned. He crouched down beside her, one hand on her back. "What's wrong?"
She swiped at her eyes in an attempt to get rid of the tears in them. "I wrecked it. He'll never want to speak to me again."
"What happened?"
"He won't sleep. I challenged him, told him that he'll end up killing himself if he carries on like this, and he stormed out on me."
Sirius slipped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a comforting squeeze. "He'll come round. Trust me. You two are too close to let one spat end it all. James and Lily were like that a lot of the time. Give him time to cool off, though." He glanced at his watch, frowning. "Well, I don't know where Harry and Hermione have got to…Fancy a cup of tea?"
"Why not?" Hannah smiled tearfully at him. "Oh, Sirius – thanks."
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Half of the village (or so Sirius insisted) was woken at six-thirty the following morning by Harry's yell. The only occupant of Lupin's house that did not wake was Draco, as Snape had slipped him a strong sleeping potion.
"What in blazes…?" demanded Lupin, tearing down the stairs, panicked.
Harry waved the Daily Prophet wildly in the air. "Fudge – he's resigned! For good! And Pettigrew's confessed everything under Veritaserum and he's been given the Dementor's Kiss!"
"PARTY!" hollered Sirius, jumping down the stairs and leaping from the sixth step.
McGonagall emerged from the living room, a scowl on her face. "Is it really necessary to wake the entire household this early in the morning, Mr. Potter?" she inquired irritably.
"Yes," interjected Sirius immediately. This earned him a glare from McGonagall, who disappeared back into the living room after ordering everyone back to bed.
Snape, Lupin and the girls went – though there was some debate as to whether Snape had actually been asleep before they had all been woken up. Sirius shrugged and it was perfectly apparent that he had no desire to obey his old Head of House. "Anyone for breakfast?" he asked.
Arabella shook her head and announced that she was going out for a walk. Harry and Sirius were the only two remaining, and Harry took Sirius up on the offer of breakfast. Sirius began cooking while Harry sat at the table. "Have you contacted Hermione's parents yet, Harry?" he asked as he gave his godson a pancake.
"I ai-ng fr Eh-wg t'rtrn," replied Harry through a mouthful of pancake.
"In English, please."
Harry swallowed. "I said, I'm waiting for Hedwig to return." He was, although he would not admit it, desperately nervous about what Mr. and Mrs. Granger would have to say about their daughter marrying him.
"You've made a good choice, you two."
"Is that the fatherly stamp of approval?" asked Harry teasingly.
Sirius gave him a mock glare. "Godfatherly, please, Harry. I'm not your father; it would have been up to James to give you the fatherly stamp of approval."
"Of course. I apologise."
"You do realise, of course, that I'm the one that gets to royally embarrass you at the wedding reception?"
"Do you have to?" Harry was slightly alarmed – what embarrassing things did Sirius know about him? And what embarrassing things did he not know that there was a risk of him discovering? He would have to do something about that – and soon. Must contact all friends and Gryffindors to warn them about this – except Seamus; he'll delight in revealing all.
"Of course I have to." Sirius regarded him with a smirk. "Why? Worried what I'll find out?"
Harry pointedly did not respond and turned his attention to the paper. "Fudge was given a vote of no confidence yesterday afternoon. Then he declared that the media were portraying him in a bad light and that they didn't know what they were talking about, so he'd let some other poor beggar get all the bad press and all that." He flicked through a few pages and then looked up sharply. "Don't let Draco see this – Fudge is trying to claim that Lucius Malfoy was a good citizen and must have been under some kind of spell. He seems to think he's innocent."
Sirius almost choked on his coffee. "You are joking, I hope."
"Nope."
"If he's saying that sort of thing, he should go to St. Mungo's without delay for reality orientation. I wonder who'll take over."
"What about Arthur Weasley?"
Sirius shook his head. "No. He's already said he'd never do it, even for all the money in the world. He's not interested in that sort of thing." His eyes twinkled in a way that made Harry suddenly nervous. "Reckon I should stand?"
"Oh, that'd go down really well."
"I am a free man, don't forget. My name has been cleared and everyone in the entire wizarding world will know the truth by tomorrow. Why shouldn't I!"
Harry rolled his eyes and went back to reading the paper.
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Hannah did not wake again until nearly eleven. Her first thought, as always, was Draco, and she glanced across at him. Her heart twisted at the sight that met her eyes – even in enchanted sleep he looked horribly ill and fragile, and deeply troubled. He looked worse asleep than awake; at least when he was awake there were signs of life. Lying in the bed with his eyes shut, he looked almost dead. Just to make sure he wasn't, she went over and felt for his pulse to reassure herself. She relaxed when she found it, and placed a light kiss on his cheek before heading downstairs, knowing he would be out for another few hours yet. Arabella and McGonagall were about to depart for their homes.
Once they had left, the kitchen was quiet (for once). Lupin and Hermione had gone shopping for food, and Harry and Sirius were deeply involved in a game of Muggle Monopoly at the kitchen table. Sirius was winning by a long way, and Harry was currently In Jail. Hannah sat down to watch them after getting something to eat and was immediately appointed as banker. She rolled her eyes but took up her duties nonetheless.
A few minutes later an owl soared in and deposited an official-looking letter on the table. Picking it up, Hannah noticed that the seal was McBett and Seyton Solicitors, and her heart skipped a beat. McBett and Seyton, she remembered Draco telling her once, were the Malfoy family's solicitors, and had been for generations.
"Is everything OK?" asked Sirius in concern. Hannah silently handed him the envelope and he studied it intently. "I'd say it's to do with the reading of Lucius' will. They'll probably want Draco to go along when it's done."
"Do I have to go?"
They all jumped at the sound of Draco's quiet, tense voice from the doorway. Nobody had heard him come downstairs. He stood there, leaning wearily against the doorframe, his clothes hanging loosely from his painfully thin frame. The sleeping potion had not had any effect on the black circles under his eyes, contrasting sharply with his drawn, pallid face. Although he had only just got up, he was already exhausted. He wasn't sure how he had forced himself to get up and go downstairs, and he was beginning to wish he hadn't. He also suspected that someone had dosed him up with a potion, and Snape was the prime suspect.
"I'm afraid you do," replied Sirius, rocking back in his chair so that only the back two legs rested on the ground – highly dangerous, observed Harry slyly, especially if someone were to give the chair a quick kick – and handed the letter to Draco. "I'm assuming that's what it is, anyway. It could be something completely different."
Draco opened the envelope and slowly read it. "You were right – it is about my father's will. They're expecting me at two."
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TBC
