Without Question
By Tien Riu
tien_riu@yahoo.com
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters belong to J.K. Rowlings. Plot (what little there is of it ^_^) and depiction of characters are mine. WARNING: The future of this piece of fiction contains slash/yaoi/shonen ai/homosexual relationships.
Author's Notes and response to reviews (in alphabetical order) at end of chapter. Enjoy the story!
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Chapter Twenty-Five: When It Comes
Somewhere, a clock struck five. The sound matched the pounding in Hermione's ears. She stared at the Headmaster, seated calmly behind his chair and watching them with a smile. (And twinkle. Let's not forget the bloody twinkle.)
Ron took a seat before the wide desk with the air of one passing on his problems to a higher authority. (At five in the morning.)
"Miss Granger, Mr Weasley. Lemon drop?" Professor Dumbledore asked, looking decidedly bemused (He was waiting for us.), "No? Well then - how can I help you?" he waved the floating plate of candy back to one of the small spindly tables scattered around his office.
Hermione watched the motion of his hand – the snap-wave (One motion for direction, one for intent -) - and heard herself saying slowly, "You know where Harry is." (It's five in the morning and he was waiting!)
Ron was staring at her – Professor Dumbledore smiled; Hermione wondered why her heart was still pounding. (Harry's safe – it's over. It's over and everybody's still alive and it doesn't matter how so long as we're all safe - )
"Minerva uses exactly the same tone of voice." Dumbledore mused thoughtfully, eyes twinkling behind gold rims as he added: "Harry is in the infirmary, guarded by the ever resourceful Snuffles."
He was waiting for us.
*
"Well?" Narcissa Malfoy demanded in a strident tone, "Do you have anything at all to say for yourself Draco?"
Severus refrained from rolling his eyes and settled in to watch what was turning out to be a very familiar scene. (Substitute Lucius for Narcissa - or Lucius for Draco and any Malfoy ancestor of choice. Not that hard; they all look the same -)
Albus had once asked Severus why he allowed the Malfoys to invade his peace, privacy and sanity not to mention disturb his sleeping patterns. He hadn't been able to answer the question - though he had gotten away from the discussion with a better idea of exactly how different Gryffindors were from Slytherins.
He had supposed that, for the most part, it was a mixture of bemused entertainment (the life of a teacher having once - in the period he referred to as pre-Harry Potter - been a very predictable existence) and good old fashion manipulation on their part. He had even wasted a few drunken evenings wondering if Lucius' talent at manipulation was the only reason why his blind allegiance to the Dark Lord hadn't reduced the Malfoy family's position as one of the most powerful families in the wizarding world. And if so why in the name of Salazar Slytherin didn't Lucius bother to pass on that political savvy to Draco!
" - skulking? Skulking Draco?" Narcissa demanded, voice rising - an unmistakable sign of the upcoming tirade.
Severus winced and cursed Hogwarts wards - it was impossible to do many things within their boundaries including cast a serendipitous muting charm. Pity we can't cast that on all the Malfoys - might keep them out of trouble. Or out of my chambers long enough for me to get some rest.
Some days he wondered if he'd ever managed to sleep longer than four hours.
Some days he wondered if - when the war finally ended and if he was still alive - he would still be watching Malfoys argue and discipline their offspring in his quarters. Some days he wondered when he had become so trusted by them that they willingly shared their affairs with him. (At least failing has a bright side - there aren't any more Malfoys after Draco.)
Narcissa was still talking - hitting her stride with a shrillness that jarred his nerves. It wasn't the melodrama that left a bitter taste in his mouth however, nor was it the subject matter that left an uneasy curdling in his stomach.
The war was coming - he could feel it. See it - bore witness every senseless day teaching juvenile idiots prattling their parents' speeches as if they understood anything at all -
Every day, looking out on that sea of faces and count the ones that had been missing all their lives - killed by the Dark Lord before they could even be conceived. (Tyche -)
And then seeing him at that table - in exactly the same place Lucius had sat -
It didn't help that in dim light, Draco could be mistaken for Lucius Malfoy, thirty years ago.
(Narcissa wants me to save Draco - and it's even I know it's too late for him.)
*
Ron jerked up with enough momentum to send his chair clattering to the ground before it righted itself with an irate creak.
"Harry's where?" He bellowed and bolted – presumably for the Infirmary.
Hermione waited till the door had swung shut with a bang that woke some of the headmasters sleeping in the portraits circling the office. Then she met the Headmaster's gaze with one of her own.
"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore gestured and the metal plate floated over again, "Lemon drop?" At her refusal, the plate zoomed to a landing, metal clinking against the desk, "Then how may I help you?"
Somewhere inside, Hermione knew, some part of her was on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum. (Twinkling and smiling and waiting for us as if we're children with his lemon drops and his -)
She took a calming breath, then spoke: "Professor Dumbledore – one of the reasons why you asked me to join the Order – why you have given me such latitude – why I'm having lessons with Professor Trelawney! - is because I'm close enough to Harry to guard his safety -"
"Ah yes – the day your father produced those delightful - what were they called? 'Booger free' –"
"Professor!" Hermione said (Oh God. Now I'm interrupting the Headmaster!), "Please sir – I'm not sure what the teachers think of us. Of the – the children's Order. But I – we – take it seriously." She forced herself to stop and breathe normally, "I can't keep Harry safe if I'm kept in the dark on - on - what's going on sir. If you keep secrets from me on -" She stopped again then said slowly, "Please sir – is Harry in real danger?" She touched the time turner, hidden beneath the fastenings of her robes, "Is there still time, Professor?"
"There is always time, Miss Granger." Professor Dumbledore said, leaning forward and steepling his hands, "In this particular case however, there is no need for additional time –" he stopped.
It took a while for Hermione to realise the teeny sound she was hearing wasn't the pounding in her ears but the glass in the casement windows behind the Headmaster's desk rattling. Professor Dumbledore frowned and Fawkes, on his perch, rustled restlessly.
With the suddenness of an ambush, the glass face of the grandfather clock shattered.
*
Severus forced himself to concentrate. Albus would want a full report even if all he could recite was a list of the inanities Narcissa had spouted - and the hour was particularly unholy. (Probably be up too – the bloody coot.)
" – and while eavesdropping – in its place! – is a skill that is not exactly uncommendable – being caught is most definitely not!" Narcissa turned on her son, robes swirling gracefully about her legs, "Have you not learned better?" this with a glare directed at Severus.
"Madam – this is a school for witchcraft and wizardry. Not, and please attempt to remember this: subterfuge and petty thievery." Severus retorted, not bothering to move.
Narcissa sniffed, "That fact might explain – in a small part – the letters that fool Dumbledore has been sending to the Manor these past few years." She said, "Well?" this last to her son, "Do you have an explanation, Draco?"
Staring at that downturn head, the tilt of the shoulders beneath the laughably unsuitable summer robes he was wearing, Severus blinked to clear the vision of Lucius at sixteen. (Or fourteen really - Lucius was tall enough to pass for a seventh year by the time he turned sixteen. Even managed to con some of the Madam's girls -)
He had known Draco for sixteen years (though really, he knew most of the other Slytherin students as well - the higher levels of wizarding society not being so much exclusive as severely depleted and inbred). Yet, sometimes, late at night when he'd caught Draco at some foolish prank, he still had to blink to remind himself that it wasn't Lucius. (Not Lucius plotting revenge against the Gryffindors. Not Lucius leading us all to detention and lost house points. Not Lucius at all.)
Late at night, it was hard to remember to tell himself that Draco was as much Narcissa's child as he was Lucius' heir. Especially when every word - every deed, right down to pronunciation and intonation - Exactly the same.
"Well?" Narcissa repeated impatiently.
Exactly like Lucius. . .
*
Under the bed, Snuffles whined, claws clicking against the stone floor. Harry had worried slightly about his presence in the Infirmary, but Madam Pomfrey had sniffed and huffed once, poured 'Skingro!' over his arm and left for the room off her office.
Several beds across a first year tossed about restlessly – Harry glanced over and muzzily took in the pink and purple stripes. ( - potions or charms - probably potions, charms accidents always seem to twinkle -)
Snuffles crept out from under the bed and rested his jaw on Harry's foot, staring at him fixedly before jumping up onto the bed, circling three times (adeptly missing Harry's legs) and lying down, nose tucked under his tail.
There was silence.
Harry stared up at the Infirmary ceiling; it was so late it was almost time to wake up and start getting ready for a new day.
Snuffles snorted and shifted before tucking his nose more firmly under his tail.
He was tired – too tired to wonder if there would be strange rumours at the breakfast table. (Boy who lives bleeds in Astronomy Tower - Potter gone potty; Magic Stain Remover can't get rid of his blood -) The torches that lined the Infirmary cast shadows against the walls that, as he watched, seemed to resemble - ( - in robes. Witches and wizards – wonder how they tell the difference from a distance - everybody looks like they're wearing dresses -) – wizards dancing. The shadows flared - (Fire, fire, burning - dancing in the air - he was warm, I thought he'd be cold to touch - so warm - fire under - ice – and Malfoy stopped running? -) and Harry Potter slept.
*
Draco looked up, mouth opening then closing again, "I – I – have no excuses, Mother." he said finally.
Narcissa breathed a sigh of exasperation; to Severus it sounded like Draco's name.
"Not even a convincing explanation?" she asked then in a softer voice: "Then perhaps – just this once – tell me the truth."
Draco stared; "What?"
"The truth Draco. On your behaviour these past few weeks – and tonight." Narcissa said, "Do remember that it will be me who has to answer your father's questions on why I left early from an – important - event to visit Severus of all people." Her hair was white-gold in the candlelight – the exact shade of her son's, "If I am to lie to Lucius, then I want to know the truth of the matter."
In the continuing silence, Severus shifted then suggested in as bland a tone as he could manage: "Perhaps some – incentive? I believe it was Lucius' parenting tool of choice." (And no doubt his father's before him and so on and so forth in a never ending, ever diminishing line of white-haired, blue-eyed ancestors.)
Draco cast him an uncertain glance – barely a flicker of grey beneath pale eyelashes.
"Bribery. How - juvenile." Narcissa said distastefully, "Is this how far our House's standards have fallen?"
"Narcissa –" Severus began, frankly insulted, and was stopped by a languid wave of a hand.
"I wish to be home before breakfast is served – so utterly gauche to appear at the table in the clothes one wore out the previous night." Severus snorted; Narcissa turned her gaze back down to her son, "Draco. I am your only ally." Draco stared at her apprehensively, "You have been bound to the Dark Lord's service, and those who fail to obey his commands are punished – regardless of age." She paused, "No comment? Very well – perhaps a little more blunt as somebody has evidently failed to teach you the subtleties of the English language –"
"Madam -!"
"Oh do cease prattling Severus –"
"Prattling? "
"I was referring to Lucius if you must know." Narcissa continued, never taking her eyes from Draco, "Your father and your name will not protect you from his anger, Draco Malfoy. I however can and will circumvent the consequences that will fall upon your head – but I must know the truth."
*
Ron was halfway to the Infirmary before he realised Hermione wasn't following him. He briefly wondered if he should stop and wait for her – but decided against it. After all, Hermione was well – Hermione. If there was anything magical between the Infirmary and the Headmaster's Office that Hermione couldn't handle, it'd need both Ron and Harry to save her. As for the other sort of fighting that required a more – direct approach only boys seemed capable of – well, he doubted that even Malfoy and his goons (Slimy Slytherins.) were stupid enough to start it so close to Professor Dumbledore.
Besides, he had this strange feeling about Harry being in the Infirmary. The same sort of feeling he got every year after Harry nearly died from another confrontation with You-Know-Who. Bloody hell, Harry – what did you do this time?
And why didn't you ask me or Hermione to come with you?
*
You ran." Narcissa said, "Your father had given me the impression that not only were you willing, you were proud of your role in the Dark Lord's arsenal. Yet you ran."
The clock began chiming the hour.
"I don't want to be an animal." Draco said, staring up at his mother – and Severus had the uncanny sensation of being completely forgotten (Is this how Potter feels in his Invisibility Cloak? How – ignominious.), "I don't want to be a – a dragon." He swallowed, shadows playing against the paleness of his skin, "I don't want to be a – a pet. An animal. I don't want to be his – I don't want to be mindless – I don't want to be used like this -!" there was a hysterical tone in his voice; Severus floundered: Lucius wouldn't have seen the Dark Lord's task in this light -
The call came at that moment – a familiar agony that had him, despite experience, grasping at his arm. He hissed in pain, trying to straighten through the waves of magic that pulled with a thoroughly physical pain. Draco paled – and with one smooth, calm motion, Narcissa whirled around, drew her wand and snapped out: "Imprudentis!"
(Not so very unaware of my existence then -)
And as he fell to the ground in a crackle of black light, Severus' last thought through the waves of pain was: He panics like Narcissa.
*
"Petrificus."
There wasn't enough time for Snuffles to do more than expel one short huff of surprise before the blue light hit him between the eyes.
"Mobiliocorpus."
Snuffles' single opened eye stared at her as Harry floated out of the bed.
"When Ron gets here, go straight to Professor Dumbledore." Hermione whispered, hesitating before adding: "I will keep him safe Sirius. I promise."
*
"Mother?" Draco stared in horror first at the body of his Head of House, then at his mother, "Mother? What did you – why did you –"
"Cease prattling like a peon Draco. I taught you better." Narcissa said.
Draco swallowed then: "What did you - why did - Mother – he was being called by the Dark Lord! To interfere is punishable by death and You-Know-Who will know it was your wand and your spell -!" She's gone insane – all this talk about truth and protection against You-Know-Who – it's got to be insanity –
"I doubt very much that the Dark Lord would kill the wife of his strongest and richest supporter. However, that is uncertain enough that you must pay attention. Now." Narcissa said calmly, "We have very little time so by Lir, be silent." She said - though Draco hadn't opened his mouth; her tone was fast and smooth and so very unlike his normally languid, elegant mother, "You must go. Tonight. Go to Dumbledore and ask for sanctuary." She gestured with her wand, "Accio earring!" a small object whizzed through the air and into her hand as she grasped Draco's face and held it still, "Foro Audis! Prélèvement de sang."
Draco hissed in pain; a drop of blood trickled down his neck.
"Blast him for not calling me immediately when he could not figure out what it was. You should have been wearing this since September." Narcissa whispered, her breath brushed against his hair, tickling his skin, "Show Dumbledore the earring. If Remus Lupin does not know how to activate the wards on it, he will." She paused, staring down at him – (Mother -) and held him though he tried to move away, "Be safe. Do not forget who you are. Whose blood runs through you." She whispered, "Imperio!" He didn't have time to flinch, "Go to Dumbledore's office. Be quiet, do not let yourself be seen. When you reach the Headmaster's Office, the spell will end." She stared down at him, then dragged him close; he could smell the faint scent that he had always known as hers – but had never realised he knew till that moment, "Be safe Draco." she pressed a kiss against his hair before releasing him.
Draco left, struggling against the spell even as he knew it was useless.
Go to Dumbledore's office. Be quiet. Don't let anybody see me. .
Be safe.
Mother.
*
Five minutes later, Ron entered the Infirmary quietly (four years of practice having taught him the dangers of bursting in, waking the other patients and bringing the wrath of Madam Pomfrey down on the heads of all). Somewhere in the hallway, a clock began to toll the hour. He hurried over to Snuffles – frozen in his position on the stripped, empty bed.
"Hey mate – where's Harry?" Ron said, glancing over to the only other patient in the Infirmary, "Snape must have been in rare form letting that first year dye himself like that –" he reached down to pat Snuffles and paused at the sticky static sensation of the 'petrificus', "What the –"
A lifetime being the younger brother to Fred and George Weasley had taught Ron how to jump to the right conclusions quickly.
"Enervate!" and when that didn't work: "Finite Incantatum! Snuffles – where's Harry – who took him –" Ron began only to stop as Snuffles jumped off the bed and transformed, mid-leap, into Sirius Black.
"He's safe – get back to your dorm room. I need to see Professor Dumbledore." then Sirius ran off, transforming once more into the large bear-like dog so quickly the clap of displaced air made the first year stir, rattled the glass in the windows lining the long, dorm-like room and brought Madam Pomfrey out of her office.
"Ron Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey's voice cut through the air in a way uncanny for something whispered, "And where precisely has Harry Potter gone too this time?"
What's going on?
*
Severus jerked out of the induced sleep and immediately curled around his arm. The pain would abate as time passed (he wasn't sure whether to curse or be thankful that not enough time had passed) but exposure allowed him to gain some control over his reaction. He straightened, lips thin as he slowly stood and stared at the witch before him.
"I expect you had a reason for what you did?" he said finally.
"You always were prone to holding grudges." Narcissa remarked and Severus drew a breath to give her the verbal equivalent of a trashing when she shook her head, "No I – we – don't have time for this – sparring Severus."
"Time? Time?! You put me under when the Dark Lord calls and you –" Severus dragged in a breath, "What is the meaning of this, Narcissa?"
"Draco has gone to Dumbledore." Narcissa said, and then stopped, holding still as if gathering breath, "That fool will take him in for that alone - and if not, then for the protections my wards will give his - precious Gryffindors."
Severus would later wonder if Narcissa had realised precisely what her actions were leading her to till that moment. There was a very clear difference between opposing the Dark Lord and fighting him and Narcissa - for all her intelligence and power - had never been a tactician.
"Draco – wards –" Severus stopped himself before he started babbling, and drew his robes around himself, "Do you know what you risk, Narcissa?" he asked finally, "Even Lucius can't - won't - protect you if he discovers who cost him his pet dragon."
"Who caused him Draco." Narcissa said (snapped).
Her face was smudged - he had to blink before he realised the dark areas were scorch marks. A glance was enough to tell him that her hands were badly burned.
"Why?"
"A mother's love is not incentive enough?" Narcissa asked, lips curling.
"Mother's love?" Severus arched one eyebrow, "Sweet sentimentality Narcissa?" he gestured, "Accio Burn Balm!" and caught the vial as it flew through the air, "Will you allow me?"
"It serves as good an excuse as any other." Narcissa held out her hands – the skin was charred.
He realised more by the lack of smell than anything else, the amount of wards that were layered over her (possibly the only reason why she had not caught alight). The first drop of Burn Balm (usually enough to heal the worst injuries caused by fire and heat) barely made a difference.
"Why did you do this, Narcissa?" Severus asked, not looking up from his task; the skin was gradually turning a deep, inflamed red.
Despite the pain she must have felt as the balm regrew the burned skin - along with the destroyed nerves - Narcissa's voice was steady, "I will not be the last Du'Lér, Severus."
"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?" Severus said, voice bland even as he spread the balm with slightly more force than necessary.
"You married Tyche." Narcissa said curtly; his hands didn't still in their task and she never flinched, "Ah - but then I forget, you 'loved' Tyche." Her tone made it a farce.
He looked up at that, "Yes." He said finally.
"And two families end in a bloodless bath."
He managed - just - to stifle the snort of derision (and it would have, at one point, been also mildly hysterical), "Hardly bloodless."
"How far Slytherin has fallen; you borrow Gryffindor and Hufflepuff ideology." Narcissa said, lips twisted, but she didn't say any more on that topic; the vial was empty and her hands a light pink before he looked up again.
"There will be repercussions." Severus said, "The Dark Lord will want an explanation for why I did not appear immediately." The pain had faded – sure sign that the meeting had already started, "He will know I was delayed by magic - and when he meets you next, he will recognise your magic as the cause."
"Hogsmeade has already fallen, Severus. The Dark Lord will attack Hogwarts tomorrow night." Narcissa said; Severus stiffened, "Dumbledore no doubt already knows – the wards shook when Hogsmeade's shattered. That amount of power cannot be hidden."
"You knew it would happen tonight –!" Severus stared at her in shock.
"Of course. Five powerful families? Why - or when - else would they meet?"
"Then why –" Severus stared.
Narcissa's laugh was light and all the more chilling for the fact that it was feigned, "Do you honestly think that my loyalties lie with Dumbledore and his self-styled 'side of Light'?"
"What are you doing, Narcissa?" Severus asked, staring at the woman in front of him, "This isn't a game -"
Narcissa arched one elegant eyebrow – a strange expression amidst the smudges that dotted the pale skin, "I assure you, Severus - I am not playing a game." She whispered as she leaned in till the swirl of one lock nearly touched the edge of his face, "I haven't been for nearly seventeen years."
She smirked and then abruptly turned, robes swirled around her heels in a move that reminded him of Draco.
"Incendio!" the fireplace roared to life as she threw a handful of floo powder into the flames, "Malfoy Manor!"
It was the last time he would see Narcissa Malfoy nee Du'Lér alive.
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Author's Note: Once more, all thanks for this chapter should go to the incredibly talented Ashe Farley – she who beta'd and spell-checked and character-checked and continued doing so until this chapter past muster.
At this stage I'd like to announce that Chapter Twenty-Five marks the final phase of Without Question - or to use a sports simile: we're entering the last quarter people, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded and (I have no idea how to continue this metaphor, not being a fan of baseball - nor having ever watched a game in my life). ~grins~ In any case, hope you enjoyed the chapter - comments and criticisms greatly appreciated. There is no cookie for this chapter, but I do promise one for Chapter Twenty-Six if anybody can provide a translation for the latin used in this chapter.
Response to reviews:
Good grief - 301 reviews. I feel like asking some of you to go review at skyehawke :: archives, just so the replies to reviews don't end up longer than the story! Actually yes - go review at skyehawke. Spread the reviews around! (cackles [cough - sorry, working full time has worked horrors on my sense of humour]) ^_^
With thanks to doompaw, darcel, Fox Atelis, GreenEyes7, Kendraen Ideals, Lady Siobhan, peregrineme, Tweks, Renangel, ueblay
In particular
Darcel: Well, not completely *true*; Jade Maxwell was right - for a given definition of 'right'. ~grins~
GreenEyes7: if the latin phrases are important for readers to know, they're colloquially translated by the character saying them shortly afterwards. Otherwise, it's a plot point for you not to know what they mean (though I try and stay away from making them important to the plot since I can't speak Latin myself ~grins~). Oh - and never apologise for a long review: it always makes my day, I love long reviews! ^_^
Lady Siobhan: all of my writing has slowed to a crawl - I currently have a full time job which sucks out almost all of my free time. But, as I promised all of you all those months ago, this story WILL be finished. Especially since my story plans were completed almost a year ago. You might like to hit my livejournal for updates on progress - and I generally post to skyehawke archives a week (once a month) earlier as well.
ueblay: You know - you're one of two people who commented on this (the other posted at skyehawke). I got a kick that somebody reading Without Question actually noticed the fact that Lockhart wasn't a Voldemort henchman since I spent a few moments wondering about that particular scene myself when I was writing. Your review made me remember why I left it in so here's the reason (~grins~): Hermione considers Lockhart as evil as any of the other DADA henchmen - simply because he wasn't who she thought he was (that is: perfect, extremely intelligent and a true hero).
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Look! Draco in a chastity belt!
Now that I have your attention: go, review. ^_^