Black Truth

Chapter Thirty-One: A Promise

For five minutes Dumbledore's office was pure chaos.

"Harry!" both Ron and Hermione cried and ran over to where he was still sprawled on the floor.

"Are you all right?" Hermione kept asking, as if the first time he answered her question was not truthful enough.

"And what happened to Malfoy?" Ron asked after a few minutes.

Draco continued to sob into Harry's shirt and Harry did the only thing he could think to do: let him, even though he was fast losing feeling in his lower legs because of how Draco's body had landed on them.

Dumbledore said nothing until the door opened and Professor McGonagall entered the room. The deputy Headmistress had the total count of missing students. Not counting Harry and Draco, thirteen Slytherins were missing, along with five Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs, and three Gryffindors. All of the students were either six or seventh year students.

Dumbledore needed only to think for a moment before issuing the orders. Filch was to personally watch the front doors and leave them open for any students who were courageous enough to march in after being missing. All students were to remain in their Common Rooms until every student from that House was accounted for. The Heads of their respective Houses were to stay with their students in their Common Room. Dumbledore himself would cover the Slytherin House in Professor Snape's absence. Hermione and Ron were to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Harry," Dumbledore said through Draco's muffled sobs. "Why don't you take Draco back down to your rooms. I trust you will both stay there." The twinkle was gone from his eyes as he spoke, a direct order, not a suggestion… though Harry doubted neither Draco nor himself would be doing much of anything at least until breakfast.

Harry helped Draco get to his feet and the new Malfoy patriarch walked solemnly out of the room. Harry had to admire Draco's strength. If he had been in Draco's position he doubted he would be able to think straight right now, much less be somewhat dignified. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked out of Dumbledore's office together, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

"You are going to tell us what happened right?" Ron asked tentatively.

Harry nodded. "What I saw of it anyway."

Ron seemed satisfied and started off towards the Gryffindor Common Room, not realizing that Hermione lingered a moment longer.

"He's going to need your support Harry" Hermione said quietly, as if unsure how to approach the subject. "You might not have gone through the same thing he did, so you cannot feel his same emotions, but you can make sure other people stay away from him until he's ready to face the world again." She started walking to catch up with Ron, turning back when she thought of something. "And knowing Malfoy, it will be before he's truly ready for it." Then she too left Harry to walk after Draco towards their rooms.

Medusa was livid when Harry got to the portrait.

"What did you do!" she nearly screamed at him.

Harry ignored her and spoke the password. The gorgon continued to rant about whatever it was that Harry had done to make the poor Malfoy boy so miserable as she opened and Harry was sure that he could hear her continuing to speak about it, now in Parseltongue.

"You're starting to repeat yourself," Harry muttered, but he knew she wouldn't hear him.

He found Draco in their bedroom, curled up on his bed in what muggles called the fetal position. His wings were curled around him as if to protect him from the world, but they opened as Harry drew near.

The boy was the personification of grief, and Harry wished at that moment to never see such a sight again. Strands of blond hair stuck to his face, held by the drying and still wet tears. His eyes had lost their luster, more of a dull gray than a vibrant silver. His fingers trembled as they held his knees to his chest.

Harry had never wished Voldemort dead quite like he did right now.

Harry approached the bed cautiously, slowly, unsure if Draco would push him away. Maybe Draco wouldn't want him to be seen in this state. Yet, as Harry stepped close enough that he could have reached out and touched him, a wing encircled him and pulled him closer. Draco's arms followed, and Harry found himself again with a lap full of a crying Malfoy.

"He's dead." Draco's voice was riddled with sobs and heaves. "He's gone. He's not coming back."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. What could one say? So he just held Draco and let the blond mutter broken sentences into his chest.

They stayed that way for a long time, until Draco's sobs had slowed and his breathing evened. Harry realized that Draco had fallen asleep, worn himself out with crying.

Carefully Harry maneuvered them into a horizontal position and closed his own eyes, willing himself to sleep and not think about what the morning might bring.

Harry shifted from sleeping to waking instantly, realizing that Draco had shifted and was also awake.

All the blond said when he realized that Harry was awake was, "It's afternoon already."

Harry could easily believe it. He stretched and tried to be discrete as he watched Draco pick out what he was going to wear that day and disappear into the bathroom to change. The blonde's emotions seemed to have shut down. He didn't even scoff at the mirror when she commented, "You look absolutely dreadful dear," a comment that would have produced a shouting match on a normal day.

Harry quickly changed out of his own clothing from the night before and into clean robes, wondering what in Merlin's name he was going to do next. Luckily, Dobby made that decision for him.

The House Elf entered the room with a tray laden with foods that Harry knew were Draco's favorite breakfast foods. This the House Elf placed on Harry's made-and-hardly-slept-in bed before turning to Harry. Even the normally cheerful House Elf seemed to be in mourning.

"Dobby thought he might do something to help, Harry Potter Sir," Dobby muttered. "Dobby knew Diddy would be doing that if she were still here, Harry Potter, so Dobby… Dobby broke more rules, Harry Potter Sir."

Harry was confused but he followed the House Elf out of the bedroom when the Elf beckoned him to follow.

"This was in former Master's study, Harry Potter," Dobby said, pointing at the wall.

Harry's jaw dropped.

A regal golden eyebrow rose in a disdainful manner that Harry was all too familiar with. The man in the portrait on the wall looked Harry over with an appraising eye and decided that he wasn't worth talking to.

Harry looked over at Dobby with a question. "And Lucius Malfoy had this in his study?"

His eyes returned to the portrait as Dobby offered a tentative explanation. "Former Master was not liked by some relatives, Harry Potter, so he is thinking it was safer to put the portrait of himself where the other portraits could not be going."

And indeed it was a portrait of Lucius Malfoy that Dobby had placed on their wall, all the way from Malfoy Manor itself if Harry understood correctly.

"But Dobby, why did you go back there?" Harry asked.

"The bad people are not staying there, Harry Potter. Now that you is back safe in Hogwart, they is saying that the Manor will soon be crawling with Ministry people, Harry Potter Sir. Other House Elves is telling me this when I went there."

It made sense. Kinda. Although Harry was struck with a small morbid curiosity of what had happened to Lucius Malfoy's body. Then he decided he'd rather not know.

The door to the bedroom opened and Draco walked out, pausing when he saw Harry and his family's former House Elf standing in the room. Then his eyes drifted to the wall that had been bare before and now held his father's picture. He didn't say anything for a moment or so, just looked at it.

Harry had to admit it was a good picture of Lucius Malfoy. He was dressed as he had always appeared in public, in the best black silk robes that money could buy. The background of the picture was in one of the libraries of Malfoy Manor, and one could see the fields behind the Manor through one large ceiling to floor window. The Lucius in the picture stood regally, looking out the window like a king would look out over his country. And, Harry thought, that was how the real Lucius Malfoy had looked at his life in general.

The one thing that separated the Lucius in the picture from the one that appeared in Ministry functions and could be seen strolling down Diagon Alley as if he owned the place, was that the artist had drawn his wings black, silken, and as magnificent as they had appeared when Harry had first seen them in the Great Hall.

Dobby disappeared, as if fleeing from a possible outburst from Draco at how the House Elf had broken whatever rule it was he said he had broken, leaving Harry and Draco in the room.

"Dobby… thought it might help" Harry said at last. "I didn't know he was going to do it."

Draco nodded, his eyes never leaving the portrait.

Harry suddenly felt as if he wasn't supposed to be there, as if there was some closure that Draco needed that he shouldn't see.

"I'm going to go get some lunch," he said.

"Fine."

Harry knew by now that, coming from Draco, that was a dismissal.

The Great Hall was more crowded than usual on a Saturday, but Harry immediately located Hermione and Ron in the crowd of Gryffindor students. They offered him tentative smiles as he approached and sat down across from them.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, indicating the bustle of students talking excitedly.

"The students that were out last night all came back a few hours after you did" Ron explained in a hushed voice. "They were all sent to sleep in the infirmary and all of them except Blaise are up in Dumbledore's office right now. They all face suspensionbut people are whispering about expulsion."

"Blaise has three cracked ribs, a fractured knee, fractured jaw, and a severe concussion. One of the ribs punctured his lung as well, but he's expected to make a full recovery" Hermione continued.

"It's supposed to be a secret so everyone knows," Harry remarked, loading food onto his plate.

"So, are you going to tell us what happened?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, but not here. After I eat we'll go talk."

Harry ate quickly and the three Gryffindors left the Great Hall and headed down towards where Hagrid's house was. No other students were milling about today; most of them seemed to be waiting for the verdict on the formerly missing students.

As they walked, Harry told his friends what had happened, starting with his idea to have Dobby connect a fireplace to Malfoy Manor and ending with Lucius Malfoy's death.

"Bloody hell," Ron said appreciably when he finished. There was a pause as no one said anything, then Ron frowned. "I wonder what will happen with the Manor now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Malfoy's parents were divorced when his father died. Normally, like if my father died, the house would go to my mom and then when she died to the oldest child, or whoever was named heir. But Malfoy's not sixteen yet, is he? So he can inherit the property but he can't live on it until he's legal."

"He could be facing a lot of legal problems then" Hermione said thoughtfully. "Other adults could make a case that he is unfit to inherit it because of his age."

"True. And I bet Lucius Malfoy left everything to his son" Ron continued. "The Malfoys would stick to tradition like that. Malfoy would inherit everything, so if he was deemed unfit to inherit, then someone else would get everything."

"And any other relatives are Death Eaters," Harry continued the thought. "That could be a problem."

"Well, it won't be if Malfoy turns sixteen soon. Does anyone know his birthday?" Hermione asked. Both Harry and Ron shook their heads.

Harry walked into his and Draco's rooms tentatively, unsure of what to expect. Draco was sitting on the couch, looking into the fire, a thoughtful expression on his face. Lucius Malfoy's portrait was still on the wall The figure inside it looked up slightly when Harry entered the room and nodded curtly to Harry before returning his attention to the window.

Draco didn't look up until Harry sat down next to him on the couch. Harry thought Draco looked much better now than he had that morning. His eyes had returned to their original coloring, and the sullen expression that had set in, though still there, was not as prominent as it had been before. Harry wondered if Draco had talked to the portrait of his father after he'd left. He knew that he would have, had there been a portrait of Sirius Black to talk to after his godfather's death.

"Voldemort killed my father" Draco said softly, his eyes boring into Harry's own with a question. "You're going to have to fight him. Harry… are you going to kill him? When you fight him?"

"Yes," Harry replied evenly and with a conviction he'd not felt before. "I am going to kill him."

"Promise me… that when you do, even though you have your own reasons to kill him… promise me that part of it will be for my father."

Harry looked for a moment at the boy sitting next to him, saw how hurt inside Draco was, saw the same feelings that he knew from his own experiences… saw the one thing that he might be able to do to help.

"I promise."