Chapter 6: In Which the Unhappiest of Truths is Revealed

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
- Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

'Fuck, Potter,' Draco growled. 'It's too tight.'

'Oh, come on,' Potter snapped, wincing as his head collided with the ceiling of the small passage they had squeezed in to. 'You think this is any better for me?'

'Do you two have any idea how amusing you are?' Pansy asked, leaning on the doorway to the shaft.

Potter blushed and Draco sneered, pointedly ignoring the heat on his own face. 'Pansy,' he growled. 'Do you not have somewhere to be? Perhaps a job to do?'

'No, nowhere,' she replied as the two men shimmied down the passage. 'Is there a reason behind you two embarrassing yourselves?'

'Yes,' Draco protested as he shifted uncomfortably against Potter. 'This passage goes around the dining room. We're going to take pictures so that we can work on decoding the spell.'

'And you both need to do this because?'

Draco growled and kicked Potter's shin, pushing ahead of him. 'Because I don't trust him to take the pictures, and he wants to come.'

Pansy snorted.

'Shut up, Parkinson.'

XoX

By the time they had taken, developed, and laid out all the photographs, it was time for dinner.

'Draco, I'm hungry,' Pansy whinged as she and Draco watched Potter charm the photographs to stick to the table. 'You need to get house-elves.'

'Don't you have a mansion full of servants and a husband to feed you?' Draco asked tiredly.

Pansy wrinkled her nose. 'No, Oliver's out of town. I'm free to bother you.'

'Of course. Well, I could do with some food myself,' Draco paused for a moment, looking up at Harry – fuck, Potter - standing over the pictures of his dining room with a furrowed brow. 'Potter?'

Potter looked up, a puzzled expression on his face.

'Are you hungry?'

'Oh,' Potter said, looking completely surprised. 'Sure, I guess.'

'Perfect,' Pansy said, getting up from the couch she had shared with Draco. 'I'll see you boys later then.'

'What?' Draco asked, startled.

'I do have a job to do, you know,' Pansy chastised as she withdrew a pair of white, silk gloves from her purse. 'Wear those blue robes, Draco, and have fun.'

Raising her wand, she Apparated away, leaving two very bewildered men behind her.

XoX

'That's the 'blue robe'?' Harry snorted, when Malfoy finally stepped out of his bedroom.

'Yes,' Malfoy answered stiffly. 'Problem?'

Harry shook his head mutely, grinning like a mad man. The robes were a smoky blue – almost grey, really – and had black and silver trim around the outside. Malfoy wore a silvery white shirt under them, and the silky material showed through holes cut out of the sleeves and across the chest where the robes laced up. He had topped the whole ensemble off with plain, black pants and an ornate silver ear cuff.

Some of Harry's laughter escaped. 'I take it we're going to someplace fancy then? And a Wizarding restaurant?'

Malfoy shot him a dirty look and walked regally down the hall. 'Yes,' he said. 'We're going to my favourite restaurant, and your competition, L'Argent.'

'Sounds French,' Harry said, ambling down the hall after Malfoy.

'It is, and quite expensive. You're paying.'

'Excuse me? You're the one who invited me, Malfoy – not the other way around. Why would I pay?' Harry asked crossly. Not that he really minded paying – it wasn't like he was doing much else with his money – but it was the principle of the thing.

'Please, Potter – Pansy was the one who started this. If you want to blame someone, blame her.'

'I don't want to blame anyone, Malfoy. I just want to eat. Can't we order in pizza or something? I do have school tomorrow you know.'

'I'm supposed to eat pizza in these?' Malfoy turned and gestured to his ornate robes. 'I think not, Potter.'

'You could always change,' Harry mumbled half-heartedly as he and Malfoy continued down the hall.

'No, we're going for French food, Potter. And I'm wearing the prissy robes. Get out your coin bag, and start calling me Hugh.'

XoX

L'Argent was delighted to move the Harry Potter and his boyfriend up to the front of the line, and into a private booth. Or what would have been a private booth had L'Argent's owner not promptly waddled down from his office and come to say hello or, as it turned out, bonjour.

Harry, sipping a remarkably cheap – in quality, not price – red wine, was entertaining thoughts of taking French lessons when Malfoy suddenly turned to him and smiled. Harry blinked.

'Oh,' Malfoy cooed. 'Harry and I are very happy together, aren't we Harry?' Malfoy took Harry's hand in his own and squeezed it warningly.

'Yes,' Harry said promptly. 'Very happy.'

Malfoy turned and smiled tightly at the rotund man in front of them. 'Adieu, monsieur.'

The man stood there for a moment, eyeing up Malfoy. 'Indeed,' he finally said, accent heavy. 'Bon soir, Hugh.'

As the man walked away, Malfoy shuddered. 'Disgusting!' he spat.

'What?' Harry asked, staring at their connected hands.

'That lecher was hitting on me, Potter! And he was none too subtle about what he wanted from me either. Can you imagine?'

Unfortunately, Harry could, and he was also rapidly becoming aware that the rather grotesque images of Malfoy straddling the obese man filling his mind were not only disgusting, but raising something akin to jealously in his stomach. 'Gross,' Harry said, wrinkling his nose. 'Don't do it.'

Malfoy's jaw dropped. 'Are you insane, Potter? Of course I'm not going to do it! Why would you… that's just so gross. I can't even begin to express my disgust with you right now.'

Harry shrugged. 'I'm just saying. And besides, you did say that this was your favourite restaurant; I'm sure if you were sleeping with the owner you'd have plenty of opportunities to eat here.'

Malfoy snorted. 'I don't think I'm ever coming here again, Potter, not after that. What a way to start a meal! And I can't believe he did that right in front of my boyfriend.'

Harry felt an unexpected spark of happiness rising up in his chest, and promptly stomped it down. 'Well,' he said, picking up his heavy menu and raising it to block Malfoy's face from view. 'We're not really going out, are we? Maybe he's just more perceptive then the rest of the world.'

The menu blocked his view of the hurt that flickered across Malfoy's face.

XoX

Draco was sitting in his living room, the photographs still laid out on the table in front of him, tapping a nervous foot against the oak frame of the couch. Don't be stupid, he berated himself. You'll solve this mystery, you'll get home, you'll forget all about Potter and live your life as you were meant to live it.

He sighed and brought his tea cup to his lips.

Twenty minutes later, when Potter finally stumbled into his living room via Floo, the first thing out of Potter's mouth was: 'Fuck.'

Draco looked up, startled from his cold tea. 'What?' he asked, sardonically. 'Kids giving you trouble again?'

'Yes,' Potter huffed, brushing soot off his robes. 'There's this one Ravenclaw – you met him yesterday – he follows me around everywhere. I swear, I had to find the staff toilet because I couldn't use the normal ones!'

Draco's mouth twitched as Potter stormed over and collapsed on the couch. The – until that moment – pristine, white couch. Draco winced. 'Well, it's obvious, isn't it?'

'What is?' Potter asked, fixing himself a cup of tea and casting a warming charm on it wordlessly.

'He has a crush on you.'

Potter turned red. 'W-what?' he stuttered. 'Are you mad? Why would he have a crush on me?'

'You're kidding, right?' Potter's bemused expression told Draco that Potter was very much not kidding. 'Oh brother.'

'What? What 'oh brother'?' Potter asked defensively.

'You're Harry Potter, Potter. I'm sure most of the girls and a few of the boys have entertained fantasies of you sweeping them off their feet since before puberty!'

'But why?' Potter seemed honestly confused, which was in turn confusing Draco.

'Because they see you as their saviour,' Draco explained. 'You're the one who saved them from the Dark Lord, you're the one to whom they look in their time of need. Add to that your… physical attributes and, well, perfect teenage heart-throb material. You just happen to be teaching one of your more… dedicated fans.'

Potter wrinkled his nose. 'What a load of bollocks, Malfoy,' he snorted. 'No one thinks of me in that way.'

Draco shrugged. 'If you choose not to believe me, that's your decision, but it is true,' he paused. 'Now, shall we get to work?'

XoX

'We'll start here,' Malfoy said, pointing to the centre of the photographs. 'Get out the book, Potter.'

Harry sighed and reached into his bag, pulling out the dusty tome he and Malfoy had liberated from the library the day before. 'Where should I put this?' he asked.

'Anywhere,' Malfoy answered distractedly. 'Here, give it to me.' He held out a hand.

Harry handed the other man the book and sat back to watch as Malfoy got to work, flipping through the book of symbols in search of the complicated looking knot that sat in the centre of the dining room.

'Can't you use magic to do that?' Harry asked after ten minutes and twenty pages of searching.

'And what spell would I use, Potter?' Malfoy snapped irritably. 'No, some things have to be done the old fashioned way.'

Harry sighed and began tracing the symbols in the photographs with his fingers.

'What do you think you're doing, Potter?' Malfoy exclaimed a moment later, grabbing his wrist. 'If you don't want to cast the spell again, most probably killing the both of us in the process, I suggest you keep you hands to yourself.'

Harry blushed and withdrew his hand. 'I'm bored,' he whinged.

Malfoy snorted and threw the heavy book at him. 'Then you look for the symbol, I'll sit here and watch.'

Harry growled, but began searching regardless. Two minutes later, he found it. 'Is this it?' he asked Malfoy, who looked like he was settling in for the long haul.

'What?' Malfoy asked, snatching back the book. 'You found it already?'

And indeed, Harry had found the correct symbol which, most unhelpfully, read: 'centre, focus.'

Harry sighed and sat back as Malfoy began looking up a second symbol. It really was going to be a long evening.

XoX

Two hours later, Harry had yet to touch the book a second time, and Malfoy's blue hair was all over the place.

'Do you think,' Harry began wistfully, 'that I could go get us some dinner?'

Malfoy barely glanced up from the book and just made a shooing motion in Harry's general direction.

'All right,' Harry said happily. 'I'll be back in no time at all. Can I get whatever I want to?'

Malfoy nodded, and Harry was certain that the other man wasn't really processing what Harry was saying. Lucky him.

'Pizza it is then. Or maybe chicken. I know a good Thai place in London. I'll use your fireplace.'

He was out of the house before Malfoy turned the next page.

XoX

In the end, Harry went to a Chinese restaurant a couple of streets down from Grimmauld Place.

'Harry!' the owner, an elderly Chinese man named Winston Chow, exclaimed when he walked in. 'It's been a month, we were starting to worry about you!'

Harry smiled. 'No need to worry,' he assured the old man. 'I've just been caught up in the holiday season. Ginny, Hermione and Fleur have been keeping me busy, and now that school's started again…'

'Not to mention your new boyfriend, right Harry?' Winston's daughter, Louise, asked, coming out from the back of the restaurant to greet him. Winston's youngest son was a Muggleborn wizard who had entered his first year during Harry's fifth. When Harry had first entered the restaurant during what should have been his seventh year at Hogwarts, they had been quick to let him know that they knew he was a wizard. He was, after all, Harry Potter, and instantly recognizable to someone who had heard nothing but how great he was from their youngest son for three years – and Harry had taken to coming back to the place whenever he was in London.

'Hello to you too, Louise,' Harry laughed. 'He's actually the reason I'm here. He's helping me with some research and we're in desperate need of food.'

Louise smiled. 'I'll get right on it, Harry. You stay out here and keep this sad old man company.' She patted her father affectionately on the shoulder and turned back to the kitchen.

'Louise has a new boyfriend,' Winston confided. 'She's been happy ever since. Her mother doesn't approve, of course.'

It was strange how little this small section of Harry's life had changed. Harry smiled and fell into the familiar conversation. 'What's wrong with this one?' he asked.

Winston glanced around, as if he expected his wife to appear out of nowhere. 'He's a carpenter.'

Harry winced.

'And he's white.'

Harry drew a sharp breath.

'And he's not a practising Christian.'

'And Mrs. Chow hasn't chased him away yet?'

Winston chuckled. 'Mrs. Chow only knows him by reputation so far. We'll see what happens in the future. For now, Louise is happy; she has a boyfriend of whom her mother disapproves.'

Harry smiled as Louise came out and handed him a bag full of food containers. 'I hear you have a new boyfriend.'

Louise raised an eyebrow. 'I hear my father talks too much and you owe me eight quid.'

Harry took out his wallet and paid, leaving the building with a smile still on his face, only to run right into Malfoy.

'What are you doing, Potter?' Malfoy asked angrily, glaring at him with cold grey eyes.

'Er,' Harry said. 'Getting dinner?' He held the bag of food in front of him.

Malfoy sniff disdainfully. 'Fine,' he huffed. 'Let's go. Make sure I'm actually paying attention next time, Potter.'

XoX

Four hours later, they had their first breakthrough.

'They're names!' Draco cried, dropping the book and turning to the photographs. 'Potter, get over here!'

Potter hurried over from the fireplace he hadd been watching since he had finished eating (about two hours before). 'What are names?' he asked.

'These,' Draco traced a finger around the intricate strings of symbols that ran along the outer rim of the diagram. 'That's why I couldn't find them in the book, they're names.'

'Whose names though? And why are our names written in English?'

Draco paused for a moment. 'I think these,' he ran his finger along the line of symbols again, 'are the names of the casters. And our names are in English because we didn't acknowledge any runic forms of our names as belonging to us, so they had to use the common forms.'

Potter nodded.

'But I'm guessing on most of that. I think we need to break these strings up into individual symbols and work from there.'

XoX

An hour later, they had ten names.

'Bellatrix Lestrange, Peter Pettigrew, Lord Voldemort, Narcissa Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Agustus Rookwood, and…' Potter trailed off, looking up to meet Draco's eyes. 'Lucius Malfoy? But he was in jail when this was cast!'

Draco nodded, frowning. 'I don't understand it either, it shouldn't be possible for him to be on that list. Unless! It's possible that the casters didn't have to be present when the spell was cast. It's possible that half of these people didn't even know they'd been included in the casting until after the spell drained their power.' Draco knew his voice sounded entirely too hopeful, but he couldn't help it. Sure, he hadn't parted with his parents on the best of terms, but after everything he had done to try and keep them safe from the wrath of the Dark Lord in his sixth year, it hurt to think that they had willingly taken part in this spell.

Potter gave him a commiserating look. 'It's possible that it was help cast the spell or die as well, Malfoy,' he said helpfully.

Draco growled. 'Well, it's not as if that helped mother, she ended up dead anyway.'

'And she didn't take you out of her will,' Potter added.

Draco paused for a moment and deflated. 'You're right. Even if they cast the charm on purpose, at least she left me the family fortune.'

Potter laughed. 'See? There you go. She could have left it to her sister or her niece, but she left it to you.'

'Right,' Draco snorted. 'Because my mother was going to leave the entire Malfoy fortune to the daughter of a Muggleborn.'

'All right,' Potter said, holding up his hands in a gesture or surrender. 'So maybe she wouldn't have left it to Tonks, but she might have left it to her sister or one of her brothers-in-law. The point of the matter is that she left it to you, not to them. So cheer up, Malfoy, things aren't quite as grim as they seem.'

'Except for the part where we're stuck in the future with almost no knowledge of how to find our way to our own time,' Draco sighed. 'But other than that, yes, things are positively rose-coloured.'

'You don't have to be sarcastic, Malfoy,' Potter grumbled, picking up the book and burying his head in it.

Draco smirked.

XoX

When Potter gasped, Draco's head shot up from the back of the couch. 'What is it?' he asked. 'What did you find?'

Potter gave him a sad look and passed over the book, pointing to the appropriate symbol.

Death, it said. Trigger.

Draco dropped the book. 'I… you mean?' He looked down at the diagram, and ran his finger around the circle of names until he came to the one that tied them all to the rest of the complex spell.

'The death of the casters triggers the spell,' Potter said, tone neutral. 'Draco, I'm sorry…'

At any other time, Draco would have commented on the use of his first name. 'But… my father's in jail; he's mad, not dead.'

Potter shook his head sadly. 'Not according to this.'

'Fuck!' Draco exclaimed, hurling the book across the room. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!' He ran a hand through his hair roughly. 'I… that's all for today, Potter,' he said, turning to leave the room.

'Malfoy! Mal – Draco!'

'Shut up!' Draco screamed before groaning and biting down on the rage he felt. 'Just… go home, Potter. I'll see you tomorrow.'

Potter was looking at him strangely, a worried expression on his face.

'I'll be fine, just go. I need to be alone to break things right now.'

Potter nodded. 'I'll see you tomorrow,' he re-affirmed.

'Yes,' Draco agreed wearily. 'Tomorrow.'

Potter left, and Draco set about breaking all of his mother's china.