Per Solum Lacuna: By Words Alone
Chapter 17: As The World
Falls Down
Falling in love
As the world falls down.
Makes no sense
at all.
David Bowie
Notes:
Text in Bold, Italics: Diary
entries from Flash.
Text in Italics: (within a paragraph -
thoughts or emphasis) Dreams or Diary entries from Luc.
Apologies for this, but ff . net doesn't like anything more than the most basic of formatting.
Thank You: Thank you to SeparatriX and C Dumbledore for doing yet another fantastic beta job. They are both wonderful! Thank you to all our patient readers who put up with the long wait between chapters. We would rather give you the best possible story than just dishing out our first draft (trust us, you don't want to know about our first draft)...
July 14, Monday – Early Morning
To the untrained eye, the stony look on Draco's face was one of shock – shock at hearing that there was a fire in his childhood home. But Harry knew that look had nothing to do with shock. It was sheer fury. He needed to move quickly to diffuse the murderous rage that he knew was about to burst from beneath the surface.
"We'll be at the Manor in a few moments, Ron." Harry quickly aimed a smart flick of his wand at the fireplace, cutting off Ron's protests as he closed and blocked the Floo. He didn't need to have Draco and Ron at each other's throats just yet. Still dazed and tingling from the unwarranted interruption, Harry watched as Draco stood, muttering furiously under his breath as he attempted to fasten his trousers.
"Why am I not surprised?" Draco drawled sarcastically. "First sign of trouble and I'm naturally a suspect. What does that son-of-a-Muggle take me for? Does he honestly think I would... How in Merlin's name could there be a fire at the Manor? The place has almost as many protections as Hogwarts." Harry could see Draco's mole quivering in fury as he baulked at Ron's unfounded accusation.
He had to admit Draco was justified in feeling angry at Ron. He was just as pissed off at him for making such misplaced assumptions, but he knew Ron deserved some explanation for what he just witnessed. He doubted it was going to be a pleasant conversation – but it was going to be necessary if he were to maintain ties with his oldest friend. He wasn't thinking too clearly about that right now. His heart was still hammering in his chest from the shocking news, and all he could think to do was to help Draco in every way he knew how.
It was late and Draco had been foolish to think that the good times would last – they rarely did when he started to give in to his desires. The unbidden lust was washed away with fury at the weasel. Nothing like interrupted intimacy to make you highly strung. Weasley had the most abominable timing, and Draco was too angry at the bastard to pay attention to what Harry was saying. All he really wanted to do was get back to what he had been doing before the interruption. He swore in frustration as he fumbled at his buttons, swaying as he reached for his wand. Still reeling from a little too much wine, he promptly fell back to the couch. A firm hand on his chest stopped him from fumbling any further.
Harry wasn't quite as drunk, and seemingly knew exactly what Draco needed the most. "Sobrietus," he muttered quietly, casually aiming his wand at Draco.
Draco reeled at the sudden lifting of the woolly warmth surrounding his thoughts. Clarity struck with alarming speed. The Sobrietus charm was always so jarring and Draco hated the accompanying sensation of cold water trickling down his spine. It was the main reason why he always preferred the potion. He thanked Harry with a curt nod before taking a deep breath. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and pass over that moment of overwhelming lucidity. It was a common side effect of the charm, but he needed to steel himself from the full shock of reality hitting him in the face.
Harry kept him pinned to the couch as he gathered his wits. For one brief moment he thought Harry might go back to what he had been doing only moments before, but he knew in his heart that their evening was now laid to waste. Gathering his second wind in his new found sobriety, he opened his mouth to complain again about the Weasel's rudeness and lack of courtesy. What a shame he didn't drop dead from the shock of what he had seen. He could only live in hope that day would come soon – for he made a mental note to pick up from where they had been so rudely interrupted.
Harry stood quickly, breaking Draco's reverie, offering a hand up. "Ron knows you couldn't have done anything to the Manor, Draco. You were here with me – I'm quite sure he didn't miss that. I think he's just suffering a little from the shock of what he saw."
"Are you defending him?" Draco seemed a little put out.
"Not at all. I just know how he reacts to things, and his mouth usually goes into gear before his brain engages. I guess I'll face the inquisition about this later."
"Oh? And what are you going to tell him?" Draco's voice sounded a little too concerned, and Harry stopped, seeing a tiny glimmer of disappointment in Draco's eyes.
Harry smiled and squeezed Draco's hand. "I'm going to tell him that when he catches us doing that again, he's to just close his eyes and look the other way if it upsets him so much." His words placated Draco, who seemed to have calmed a little bit at Harry's spoken intentions. "Now, are we ready? I'm just as curious as to why there is a fire at the Manor. You certainly don't hear of too many fires in the Wizarding world. Why haven't they just put it out with a couple of spells?"
Harry headed over to the coat rack and donned his good outer robe. "You're coming too?" Draco asked. Harry just assumed that he was accompanying Draco, and he stopped in his tracks. Does he really want me with him? He wondered.
"Of course – you think I'm going to let you go alone? I'm sure Ron will be there, and I really don't want to see either of you dead right now, even if he's being a prat." Harry muttered under his breath, and he caught the slight snicker coming from Draco.
"Well, come on then," Draco added as he was already sweeping regally out the door. He noted the hopeful relief in Draco's voice and quickly forgot about his concerns. Harry would have liked to stop and tell Remus what had happened and where they were going, but as he paused to knock on Remus' door, he saw the moonlight streaming in through the window. He had forgotten all about the full moon.
Draco noticed Harry's hesitation at Remus' door. "Another pair of eyes and ears might help," Draco agreed quietly as they made their way out of the castle. Both of them ignored the protests of the paintings awakened by their swift progress through the castle. Draco didn't even notice Nearly Headless Nick floating calmly down the hall until he walked straight through the sleeping ghost. Sir Nicholas woke with a start, but neither man acknowledged the ghost as he started to protest profusely for being woken so rudely. Draco brushed away the creepy chill that bore deep into his bones at the intrusion. It was an unpleasant feeling.
Harry noticed Draco's stony and unreadable gaze as they swiftly moved through the courtyard. "Does the Weasel really think I'd stoop to damaging my own property? There's something fishy about all of this, and I need to know what it is."
Harry shrugged. His own sense of foreboding was creeping up slowly. He was worried about this shocking news – worried what it would mean for Draco. "I've had a bad feeling ever since these Neo Death Eaters came on the scene, Draco – and I just know they are behind this," Harry said with conviction.
Harry could see the worry eating away at Draco as he attempted to don his mask of haughty indifference. He could see through those masks now and knew that it was partly Draco's way of dealing with the world, but he put his hand on Draco's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze of support. Draco was grateful for the show of support, a smile momentarily penetrating and softening his mask. Their passionate embrace was still only ten minutes in the past, but it felt like it had happened years earlier. Harry could not help but think that it at least gave him a chance to tell Draco the truth before they delved into anything more serious. He didn't want to imagine how Draco would react if he were to discover the truth, and find that Harry had known all along. It just didn't bear thinking about.
The protections around Malfoy Manor prevented anyone other than Draco from Apparating directly into the grounds. Draco was like a man possessed as they Apparated in front of the Malfoy Manor gates. His eyes were wild with what looked like anger, but Harry knew to be deep fear and concern. As thick smoke surrounded them, the overwhelming smell of ash momentarily disoriented Harry. He eventually noticed an unfamiliar bystander who was deep in discussion with a very dismayed house elf. As the smoke cleared a little, Harry noticed he wore the uniform of the Magical Law Enforcement constabulary.
Their pop of apparition must have gone unnoticed by all but the house elf, who flung herself into a fit of woe at the sight of Draco, who didn't notice the assault as he was peering desperately through the smoke to see the Manor. This amount of smoke was not a good sign, and Harry felt a horrid feeling welling at the pit of his stomach.
He didn't know what he was expecting, but he had visions of gigantic flames licking their way along the roofline. Very little moonlight penetrated the heavy smoke, but a sudden change in the wind blew the dark pillar away, revealing what Harry had feared most.
Giant flames were licking at the ancient stones of the Manor, accompanied by the sound of falling debris and smashing glass. A blast of heat rolled their way and Harry could barely hear Draco's cry of desperation as he stood screaming at the gates. Another terrifying crash preceded a new pall of smoke that now rose as the roof caved in on one of the wings.
"Why in Merlin's name are you just standing around here? Why aren't you doing something?" Draco spoke urgently as he practically flung himself at the gates to release the protective wards. Harry was ready to pull Draco back as the ground shook and small explosions threw more rock and debris their way. Draco was frantic and Harry had to physically hold him back. This was more than just a fire – it was mass destruction.
Draco was trying hard to pull away from Harry, but as he tried to release the protective wards on the gates, another firm hand stopped him, pulling him back from certain danger. Draco barely noticed the MLE constable in his frenzy to reach the core of the blazing mansion.
"You can't stop it, Mr Malfoy. Those are magically induced flames, and they're feeding off any magic they come into contact with. You've lost almost all of your house elves as they tried to put it out," the constable spoke plainly, but he too seemed helpless in the face of such a disaster.
"That's right, Master Draco," the tall elf was now sobbing visibly as she wrung her ears in shame. "We tried all we could, but the fire broke through all your protections and wards... Gaggy is sad that she has lost her family, Master Draco! Gaggy was working in the coach house and didn't see the fire until it was too late!" The elf seemed utterly devastated at the loss of the other elves, but Draco gave her an encouraging pat on the back.
Draco was shaking his head furiously. "Magically induced? But that's... not... possible." He uttered in complete disbelief. "Can't we contain it somehow?"
Harry had too many vivid memories of magically induced fire and shook his head furiously at Draco. "No, it's too dangerous, Draco. It can only be Balefire. A magical fire like that can only stop when it runs out of magic to consume. When there is no more fuel to feed it, it will die out." Harry hoped it was only Balefire. He didn't want to think of the consequences of this being Gulbrathian fire. At least Balefire died down when it ran out of fuel. Gulbrathian fire was everlasting. Looking closely at the flame, he looked for the greenish tinge of the everlasting fire, but couldn't see it. This had to be Balefire.
Draco's voice was hoarse, but he just stared through the gates. "Balefire," was all he whispered, still in disbelief. Harry put a comforting hand on Draco's back as they watched the fire gather momentum, racing furiously through the west wing.
"I can't just stand here... I hate feeling so useless..." Draco was tempted yet again to open the gates, but the constable quickly divested Draco of his wand.
"Are you mad?" He yelled at Draco. "If you break that protection charm on the gates, then that fire will escape. You don't want it to spread to the magic outside the Manor, do you? I don't fancy going up in smoke. It's lucky that most of the protections on this place are independent and not connected to something like earth magic! I could only imagine the carnage. Who would be stupid enough to risk using something this destructive in the first place?" The constable voiced the question Harry had been asking himself.
"Don't you think I know that already?" Draco shouted to hide his embarrassment at not thinking clearly. The house elf, Gaggy, was moaning and wailing loudly as Draco watched on as his ancestral home was torn to the ground. Harry wanted nothing more than to go in there and put out the flames, but if it was indeed Balefire, then he knew of no magic to stop it. He recalled the only time he had seen someone foolish enough to use Balefire in battle. Some enterprising Death Eater thought he would expedite things by quickly decimating the Aurors and Order members. It certainly achieved that goal, but that one small blast also killed at least thirty Death Eaters and destroyed a forest of wand wood in a matter of seconds. That wasn't even counting the cost of the magical creatures that also perished in that forest. Harry only hoped the outer protective wards of the estate grounds could contain this monstrosity.
Lost in his thoughts, Harry did not hear the new pop of Apparition. "Sorry sir," he heard the constable utter. "I'm afraid you can't go in. That fire is too dangerous. It's probably best if you stay away though – there really should only be essential personnel here. We don't know if that fire is going to spread, and we don't want any unwarranted casualties." Harry turned to see Ron standing there in a belligerent stance. He had almost forgotten who notified them of this tragedy, and he closed his eyes and prayed that tempers weren't going to flare on this side of the gate.
"Essential personnel?" Ron was obviously in no mood for this man's nonsense. The smoke was starting to abate, thanks to a light breeze, and all that remained was the harsh reflection from the intense flames. Harry thought he recognised the constable, but he couldn't be sure. The name Kenneth Towler came to mind, and Harry was suddenly reminded of a tall student in Gryffindor robes. Kenneth must have been a few years ahead of Harry, but he recognised the insignia of Senior Constable on his robes. Ron didn't seem to pay any attention to that as he continued to stalk directly to the gates. He seemed completely affronted that he was being asked to leave.
"But I'm the one currently in charge of this property – you contacted me about this fire!" Ron spluttered. "I'm with the Fiscal Investigative Unit at Gringotts and we have seized this Manor as part of an ongoing investigation – you can't deny me the right to be here!" Draco's attention had been diverted from the blaze to the confrontation between the constable and Ron. He smirked wildly at the sight. Harry could see Ron was now getting a taste of his own medicine for denying Draco access.
Towler was a stickler for regulations and didn't care one iota that Ron was the person they contacted first. He wasn't letting him in. "By all means, if you want to burn to a crisp, then go ahead. But I'm sure that you can see what you need to from here. There's been a fire – Balefire, apparently – but I'm sure that once Magical Law Enforcement has scoured the scene, we'll be only too happy to allow the insurance assessors in to look at it."
Ron saw Draco standing there and continued his diatribe as he pointed accusingly to the blond. "You want an investigation? Here's your culprit. He's been dying to get into this place and has been asking me for weeks to allow him access. I think he was just so jealous that we were keeping him from it that he's decided to burn it to the ground. I'd really love to know just how this pointy git managed to pull it off. He's the only one who can pass those wards and start a fire like that..." Harry could not believe what he was hearing. For one moment, he could have sworn that Ron was channelling Percy as he stood there arguing with the Constable.
"I'm sorry, sir, but only an Auror can override my authority to let you onto the property. I can assure you that we will be investigating your accusation, you have my word. Unfortunately, your position as a FIG office investigator doesn't automatically give you authorisation to be here, so I will ask that you leave." Constable Towler was not budging from his stance, and Harry admired him for not being bullied, as Ron was doing his best bullying yet. Strange how Harry had never really thought of it as such before, but now he could see that Ron's behaviour was clearly bullying.
"Well what about him," Ron pointed at Harry. "He's not essential personnel either – he's just here with the pointy git," Harry's mouth hung open at Ron's stinging words. Towler blinked several times, eventually recognising Harry.
"Merlin, it really is you, Mr Potter! I'm sorry, I didn't recognise you earlier – seeing you were with Mr Malfoy and all..." the senior constable exclaimed in surprise. Harry really should have expected that sort of reaction, but he didn't let it phase him. "I am really glad you're here – I heard the rumour that you were returning to active Auror duty. Welcome back, sir!"
Harry winced out a smile, but Constable Towler continued. "If Balefire started this, as you suggest, then I'm glad you're here – makes it easier and I don't have to go and try to wake up some disgruntled Auror through the Floo. I'm so glad you're on the case." Harry wasn't quite processing Towler's words, but both Ron and Draco turned to look at him strangely. Ron spoke up before Draco could say anything, "Oh, Harry's not an Auror any more. He's just here because he's supposedly providing Malfoy with an alibi..."
Harry's eyes narrowed but he refused to acknowledge the hurt he felt from Ron's barb. He suddenly realised what Towler had been talking about. Obviously Gordon and Claire at the Ministry had been talking out of turn and had prematurely leaked the news of Harry's return to the Auror corps. Either that, or they were simply saying that Harry had returned to bolster the moral in the Magical Law Enforcement Department. Somehow, he gathered that the latter was probably true.
Strangely enough, it suddenly was going to work to Harry's advantage. This constable assumed Harry was once again working for the Ministry. As Harry glanced at the dying fire, then over at Draco, he saw an opportunity to do something useful. For once he could call Gordon and Claire's bluff, and deal with the consequences later. He could see that Draco was desperate to get inside, and Harry was equally as curious as to what or who had triggered the Balefire.
With a warm and slightly embarrassed smile, Harry turned to the constable, "That's right, you heard correctly - I'm back." Harry sucked up the subterfuge calmly and glanced Draco's way, realising why he was about to do this. Draco gave a barely imperceptible nod of understanding. "Look, I know Wiltshire isn't in my jurisdiction, and I'd hate to upset the chain of command, constable, but I was with Mr Malfoy when we heard about the fire. Tell me what you already know..."
Ron pushed in and interrupted. "Harry, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing? You aren't an Auror any more..."
Harry turned sharply and glared up at Ron. "Don't presume to know everything about me, Ron. You certainly lost the right to that with your recent behaviour. How do you know I haven't decided to rejoin the Aurors until we catch the Neo Death Eaters? Don't you remember how horrible the Balefire battle was during the war – is your memory that short? Do you really think Draco would do something like that to his own home? This whole thing reeks of Neo Death Eaters, and I think you should listen to the constable. Go home to your new wife, Ron. Come back in a couple of days after we've sorted out this mess. Don't worry, I doubt Draco will be absconding with any Malfoy family heirlooms. He'll be lucky to find anything intact in that mess." His words were harsh and cruel, but he somehow knew that this was going to be more devastating on Draco than he first imagined. He didn't think anything could survive such a blaze, and the thought of something precious, like rare potions ingredients, were just too painful to consider.
"That true, sir? You think that Neo Death Eater scum is behind this?" Towler interjected before Ron could answer.
Harry smiled over the constable's shoulder as he looked at Draco. "Well there's only one way to find out." They gazed back at what was left of the Manor, more smouldering ruin now than house. The magical fire was beginning to die down now that it was running out of fuel. Balefire fed on inherent magic, and it had flared intensely. The protections on the Manor must have been strong. Now that there was no more magic to feed on, the previously blazing inferno had petered out to nothing more than a dying blaze.
"But we dare not put it out magically, sir," Towler suggested. "Any magic we feed it might make it flare up again. Harry was inclined to agree with the constable, but he watched as Draco stared quietly at the ruin of his home. He couldn't bear to see that pained look on his soul mate's face any longer. He had to do something. If it was only a normal fire, then Harry assumed that it could be put out with Muggle means. But first they needed water.
"Draco," he murmured quietly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Is there a lake or a creek on the Manor grounds?" At first Harry didn't think he had heard, and was about to repeat his question, when Draco looked directly at him. Harry saw the pain and concern in his face, and he squeezed his shoulder in support. "I have an idea. I know it won't save the Manor, but I think we can stop the flames from spreading further. They've exhausted all the magic in the area, so I think we could probably drown it with some well placed water."
Slowly coming out of a stupor, Draco pointed his wand to the west, "I know there's a dam on the other side of the forest. You can normally see it from here in the daytime. W... what are you thinking?" He asked in concern.
Harry just smirked. "A smothering spell is too risky right now – it might reignite the Balefire. How good are you at translocation spells?" he asked Draco. "I seem to recall you took great pleasure in relocating things once upon a time." Harry didn't want to think about the time from their sixth year in school when things suddenly vanished from one location, only to appear in another. The Slytherins and Gryffindors took great pleasure in using the spells to play serious practical jokes on each other.
The memory brought the barest hint of a smile back to Draco's face, and he nodded.
It took all four of the wizards (including an extremely reluctant Ron, who only helped at Towler's insistence), to translocate a good deal of water from the dam to the air just above the Manor. The Balefire wasn't at risk of reigniting from that. Once the water suddenly appeared out of nowhere, it just poured down and doused the majority of the flames. All this was achieved from just beyond the Manor gates. As the last of the flames died down, the first hint of dawn broke over the horizon, and Harry and Constable Towler agreed that it would probably be safe enough to enter.
Towler sent a quick message back to his office – the Constable taking off his hat to draw a thin silver wisp of magic from his head to the end of his wand. He then flicked it off in the direction of Salisbury in a spell that Harry recognised from his time in the Order. It was good to see that someone in Magical Law Enforcement thought to use such quick and useful methods of communication in the absence of a Floo or owl. He would have used the spell more often himself, but when the message was critical, there was always a risk that it would be intercepted by Death Eaters.
Ron was still standing around, eagerly making a move to head through the gates after they clicked open at the complicated sweep of Draco's wand, but Constable Towler quickly put him in his place. "I'm sorry Mr Weasley, but as I said earlier, you'll have to remain outside whilst we continue this investigation. Essential folk and all that – wot?"
Ron was livid, and unable to put up a coherent argument. "But you can't let him in and not me!" he pointed at Draco. "I just helped you put out the fire, for Merlin's sake!"
"And your co-operation will be duly noted. Good day, Mr Weasley." Constable Towler turned to join Draco, who was already out of earshot as he swept as briskly as he could up the driveway toward the burned out Manor. Harry was turning to join them when Ron grabbed at the back of his robe, pulling him in to face him. "Harry, what the bloody hell are you playing at?"
"I'm sorry Ron, but the Constable is right – you really shouldn't be here."
"And Malfoy should?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, even though you might run the estate, he is the one who we need. He knows the Manor better than anyone, and we may need him to break down any remaining stray protections or wards. Why don't you just go home to Hermione, Ron. You can come back later and assess the damage. Draco doesn't need you here today."
Ron sneered, "Oh, but Draco needs you?"
"Yes, he does."
"Malfoy's bloody well brainwashed you, hasn't he?" Ron's eyes were wide and wild. "I knew it. He's done all this himself – or at least organised it. I knew that he was up to something." Harry could not believe the wild accusations. Ron was deluded. He really wanted nothing more than to be with Draco that moment, but he knew he had to deal with this first. Ron's next words stopped him in his tracks
"I knew when Hermione told me that you were confiding in that pointy bastard that something like this would happen."
Harry's jaw literally dropped in surprise. "What does Hermione know, Ron?"
Ron snickered knowingly. "Malfoy's the one you've been writing to for months, isn't he?"
Harry could not believe that Hermione worked out the truth behind the journals. How did she work it out? Did Remus say something to her? Harry wasn't listening. "How did she realise..." He was a little peeved that she could work it out, but Hermione was always the observant one.
"She worked it all out... The fact that you suddenly stop confiding in us and start talking to a complete stranger in a magical journal apparently got her thinking, and you know she doesn't stop until she gets answers. She hates anything to be a mystery. Suddenly you start to act completely reckless – you quit your highly paid Auror job, you leave Oliver – who you tell me you were completely in love with – and then you start shagging my brother..." Ron was almost unstoppable in his fury, and his words tumbled out. "Malfoy's managed to gain your trust and put some sort of dark hex on you to trust him. It's plainly obvious – and now this. I know he's the one who started this fire."
Harry stopped him with a firm shake of his shoulders and a wand that was pointed dangerously in his face. "Thanks for the support, Ron. Whatever you think, you're wrong. Yes, I have been confiding in Draco for months, but I only just realised it recently. You know how much I hated my office job. I'm only back to capture these Neo Death Eaters. And you know what happened with Oliver had nothing to do with me, and I just wish you could crawl out of your own arse for five minutes and just accept that I'm perfectly capable of making decisions for myself. Merlin, Ron! What's happened to you? You're beginning to sound more and more like Percy every day." Harry turned to walk into the estate, but Ron grabbed him by the robes again.
"Don't try to change the subject – and don't you even think of walking away, Harry. I've been watching over this estate now for months, and there's been so much suspicious activity around it, it isn't funny. There have been all sorts of attempts at the wards, and each one of them coincided with one of Malfoy's letters to me asking for access. Malfoy can't be completely innocent of any wrongdoing, Harry. It's not in his nature..."
Harry rounded on Ron again, his fury rising. He had hoped they could have moved past this animosity, but Ron was a Weasley, and they were undoubtedly more stubborn than mules. Especially when it came to Malfoys. "You know nothing about Draco's true nature, and I'd appreciate it if you kept thoughts like that to yourself. I'm not past arresting you for obstructing justice – and don't think I won't do it." Ron was stunned, but it was Harry's turn to be furious.
"This is a criminal investigation, unless evidence shows us otherwise, Ron. How come you were so quick off the mark to come gloating to Draco? You don't happen to know who caused this, do you? Draco seems to think you might have something to do with it. Care to enlighten me?" Harry didn't want to be the one making unfounded accusations, but there was a disconcerting worry that niggled in the back of his mind that Ron knew more than he was sharing.
Ron was completely affronted. It hurt Harry to say such things, but he was sick and tired of dancing around everyone and everything. "Whatever would give you such an incredibly ridiculous idea, Harry?"
"I could ask you the same question, Ron." Harry could feel a headache forming behind his eyes, and he was suddenly feeling very tired. He couldn't afford to be tired, not now.
"Constable Towler contacted me first because I'm currently the estate's registered contact – it's what they're supposed to do. I thought Malfoy might be trying to gain access for some nefarious reason – but now you've just let him walk into that place..." Ron seemed somewhat defeated and still upset at Harry's accusations. Harry felt a pang of sympathy, but he was still hurting from Ron's own harsh words. He could see that this whole thing was a major blow to Ron's pride.
"Draco has been with me since sundown, Ron. Before that I'm sure that Remus could vouch for his whereabouts, considering he probably had to spend most of the day brewing the last batch of Wolfsbane – look, if you weren't being such a prig, you'd realise that the constable will have already thought to do a Prior Incantato spell on Draco's wand. Do you really want me to check yours?" Harry raised an eyebrow as he spoke.
Ron was just staring at Harry, as if seeing him for the first time. He shook his head. "I won't let you interfere with the Fiscal Investigative Goblins and their investigation, Harry."
Harry smirked as he crossed his arms. Neither of them were going to back down. "All right, then I won't let you interfere with what is an MLE investigation, and as the only Auror here, I'm not letting you on the grounds, and that's final. Actually, Towler was right - it's standard procedure." The Ministry frowned upon the Goblins and bank employees sticking their noses into Magical Law Enforcement investigations. Ron's presence would not be necessary until it was time to call for an insurance assessment. Mind you, having Draco there was strictly not proper protocol, but Harry had a good excuse. Harry wasn't even thinking about how he was going to explain all of this to Gordon and Claire, but he would deal with them when the time came.
"Since when have you started following the rules, Harry?" Ron offered, clearly hurt by Harry's snub.
"Since when do I owe you ANYTHING? I promised I would be there for your wedding because of Hermione, but don't presume to think you know anything about me. You've made it abundantly clear you don't approve of my lifestyle, Ron. Just remember who it was who started this in the first place!" Ron was just going to have to wear the consequences. Harry didn't think he had done anything to start this disagreement in the first place. Indeed, he was beginning to see that perhaps he had been so blinded by their close friendship that he never realised just how others saw him. For the first time he could just see a little of what Draco found so bristling about Ron. No wonder Draco was so offended when Harry chose to befriend him all those years ago. It was a startling revelation, to say the least.
Harry was torn in frustration. "Look, I haven't got time to stand here and listen to your nonsense, Ron. As a Gringotts Representative, you'll have my report on your desk later." Harry turned and just walked away. He'd had just about enough of Ron, and he did hear some muttered profanity before the pop of Ron's Disapparition.
As he turned and sprinted up the driveway, he wondered at what he had just done. One minute he was accompanying Draco, the next, he was agreeing to act as an Auror again. Having Claire and Gordon ask him in their smarmy and smug way was not what Harry wanted, but seeing how Draco needed him, and witnessing first hand what was obviously a Neo Death Eater attack, he could see that he was still needed to help. But only to capture them. Beyond that, the Aurors were on their own.
He certainly wasn't dismissing the Neo Death Eaters, not by a long shot. Their recent raids were horrifyingly devastating, although unoriginal. Harry sensed they were targeting Draco for the Malfoy monies, but he couldn't dismiss that they might have a more sinister agenda. He strode purposefully towards the Manor. Ron questioned his motives for helping Draco, but for once, Harry knew he was doing the right thing, and absolutely nobody was manipulating or cajoling him.
The damage was worse than it looked, if that were at all possible. A few walls still stood, but the intense heat was still too much for them to sift through the rubble. Draco stood and stared in disbelief as his worst nightmares were realised. The dozens of layers of spells and protections that generations of Malfoys had laid over the place had given him a false sense of security. Of all the things in his life that were gone, he never expected the complete destruction of his childhood home to be one of them. Despite the fact he really never wanted to return to the place, now that it was nothing more than ash and rubble, he realised that he was never going to be able to walk though the halls again, nor look out of the top floor window over the plains. The pang of loss was palpable.
Gone were the antiques, and the tapestries, and the paintings – the list seemed endless. Draco's despair at the loss of the library was felt deeply, but in all of this, only one thought drove relentlessly through his mind – the potions lab. Had the dungeons escaped the carnage? With Balefire, it was impossible to tell, but he would have to wait just a little longer to find out.
As the sun slowly rose, Draco waited for the fog to clear, only to realise that it wasn't fog but smoke that surrounded him. He looked over to watch Harry, who had surprised him by taking complete charge of the situation. He was unaware that Harry had been asked to rejoin the Auror corps, but had a mild suspicion that he had only decided just now to do so. Too many years of watching Harry made him aware of the fact that his emotions played quite visibly on his face. The question about returning to the Aurors had taken Harry by surprise at first.
But Draco had not expected the warm look Harry directed at him before he dealt with the Weasel. Judging from the way Harry took charge and radiated power and presence, it was easy to see how he led a war. He exuded complete trust, which is exactly what Draco needed right now. That revelation startled Draco – that he was placing his trust in Harry, and after the shock of that wore off, his heart lightened more than anything. Harry was doing this to help him. The Manor could have been completely gutted and he realised that didn't quite seem so important any more. Knowing Harry was there would be the one thing that would help him cope with the devastating aftermath.
Draco had not been in the Manor when he opened it up to the Aurors after the war. He left the place open for them to defile every room and corridor, checking for dark artefacts that Lucius might have left behind, but now Harry was making sure that Constable Towler touched nothing without asking Draco's approval first. Harry's charismatic nature managed to temporarily placate Gaggy the distraught house elf. It was the little things like that which were helping Draco to cope in this situation. It was still too hot to walk through the ashes, but a damp mud was forming around his boots. He sat on a piece of fallen wall, surveying the extent of the damage. His boots dragged slowly through the heavy ash as he bent to pick up a large hunk of ... something. It was too hot and he tossed it into the pile of ash and rubble.
"Hey, are you all right?" Harry seemed worried for Draco.
"I thought I would have been a little more upset to see this destruction, Harry, but honestly, I'm not." Draco admitted candidly. He was in shock, but in truth, he wasn't that upset. He didn't doubt there were possessions he would miss, but the house itself...
Harry nodded. "I can only imagine it was grand." Harry didn't offer any false platitudes and passed no judgements, and for that, Draco was grateful. "Gaggy is beside herself with grief. Is there any point in keeping her here? What do you plan to do for her?"
Draco shrugged, "I have no idea. I doubt the Weasel will let me take her to Hogwarts," he offered with much sarcasm. Draco handed over a still warm lump of metal that he picked up – a crest and a handle still recognisable on what must have once been a goblet. He gestured to the whole house. "This house had generations of wards protecting it from simple things like common fire. All our heirlooms have been charmed to ward against such things as this. Why would they use Balefire? I thought they were after my money – this somehow defeats the purpose, don't you think?"
"You're right about that, but what I'm worried about is who they managed to convince to actually cast the Balefire spell." Harry replied as he shook his head. "I certainly never expected to see it again. Don't most Wizards realise that unless you are highly powerful, the backdraft from Balefire will kill you? I doubt anyone but Dumbledore would be able to conjure it, and survive."
"Or you," Draco replied calmly.
"What?"
"You're powerful enough to conjure it. I'm not saying you did this – I know you didn't, but you shouldn't keep underestimating yourself, Harry. You would be capable of conjuring it and surviving." Harry's eyes were wide at Draco's words, but he nodded and said little else. He stood and pointed at a section of wall that was still standing. "But it most definitely was Balefire. Look at these black marks across the wall here – and here." Harry pointed. "The pattern is obvious. But I guess we will find our guilty party somewhere under the rubble."
"But the real question," Draco put his fingers into the nearest scorch marks, sniffing the residual burn marks, "is how they got in here in the first place. If they didn't come here to steal anything, then there is only one thing they could have been after. Me."
Harry seemed a little confused, "Why would they be after you?"
Draco just rolled his eyes, "Probably just a little retaliation for my role in the war." Harry nodded once he realised Draco was right.
Constable Towler finished his survey of the wreckage. Harry put forward the suggestion that the body of the culprit was most likely somewhere under all the rubble, but they agreed they should wait a couple of days before returning. The heat was still fairly intense, and they didn't want anything else to disturb any possible evidence. Harry and Draco agreed. Towler asked the obvious question that Draco had been waiting for. "D'you have any idea, Mr Malfoy, how someone could have entered the property. I understand this place was nearly as hard to get into as Azkaban is to get out of. Even that git from Gringotts said he was having trouble passing the wards."
The constable had moved up in Draco's estimation from the simple fact he called the Weasel a git. "Every generation did add its own protections – father, of course – decided to add his own special blend of wards that were less forgiving than most. You might think you've got through them, but you would find some unpleasant surprises along the way."
"Like poison darts, or severed digits, perhaps?" Harry offered in mock sarcasm.
"Ah, but you knew father as well as I did, I see." Draco's bitter smile held no joy.
"Is it possible that the wards just wore out?" Towler asked as he frowned in thought.
Draco thought about that for a moment, but shook his head. "I don't think that's possible – some of these wards have stood for hundreds of years. Balefire is unforgiving. But to answer your original question, no, I have no idea who entered the property and got through the wards. I certainly never told anyone how to get in. I haven't even been here in the past two years!" Draco was quite defensive.
"Would your father have told anyone?" Harry was just as mystified, but he offered a plausible suggestion.
Draco shrugged. "He certainly didn't want to tell me anything much in the time after I left school. I'm still not sure if he knew I wasn't totally committed to the Death Eaters, but then again I think it might have been the fact he had other prejudices." He didn't need to elaborate on that. Harry remembered enough from his conversations with Luc about Lucius' distaste for homosexuality.
"But you're suggesting that it's not impossible. Did any of his other close companions have access through the wards?" Harry quickly diverted the conversation, and Draco was glad that Harry could keep the focus of this investigation onto what was important – finding out who started the fire, rather than placing blame on someone who was the actual victim.
"Lucius confided in very few people, but nothing's impossible when it comes to that man, as I'm slowly discovering. But I thought I had set the protections to only allow access to blood relations. I can't really remember now. Perhaps I was only thinking about it." Draco seemed worried at that prospect.
"Did the house elf see anything?" Harry asked.
Towler shook his head. "No, the first any of them realised something was wrong, they smelled the smoke and came to investigate. Most of them apparently perished as they tried to put it out. Only Gaggy realised that she would also perish if she tried."
"What's the point in destroying this place? Were they covering up for a robbery or something?" Towler was thinking aloud, but Harry shook his head. Draco snorted as his attention was once again directed to the molten remains of what must have once been something Draco recognised.
Harry explained Draco's theory about being targeted because of his role as a spy during the war. Towner nodded his head in agreement. "I must admit, Malfoy, that I was surprised to hear you were back. That's actually the most logical explanation for all of this, you know." Draco was glad to see that the constable wasn't judging him, a small mercy at a time like this.
"It was only a matter of time. I really don't know why I didn't expect this sooner." Draco actually felt a great relief that they were finally showing their hand. Now all he had to do was stop them, then life could go on.
"But wouldn't that mean they should be going after Snape too," Harry looking a little concerned as he made the connection.
Draco nodded. "Don't worry, I've already thought of that. I doubt he's as lucrative a target as I am. After all, the Malfoy fortune is much larger and a lot more prominent than Severus'. When they finally realise they won't get another sickle from me, they'll turn their eye to him – if they dare."
Harry could see the strain was wearing at Draco. Things were not as bad as he first imagined, but knowing that someone was specifically targeting him was not pleasant – Harry could certainly vouch for that.
"Do you need to ask Draco any more questions?" Harry tried to wind up the investigation quickly. He was as tired as Draco, but he doubted he would get to sleep soon. The sun was completely up, but it was still struggling through the hazy smoke.
Constable Towler looked a little uncomfortable. He pulled out his notebook and Quick Quotes Quill. "I'm sorry to do this Malfoy, but we have to ask these questions." Draco wasn't happy, but knew that the inevitable questions would have to be asked. "I just need to ask you about your whereabouts last night, Malfoy. It's a standard question, unfortunately. You understand, don't you?"
Draco nodded wearily. "Yes, of course. I was at Hogwarts all day yesterday. I didn't leave the castle grounds."
"Was there anyone who could vouch for your whereabouts?"
"Er, I was brewing Wolfsbane most of the day – Remus Lupin can vouch for that. And I was dining with Harry all evening."
Constable Towler seemed surprised by that. He was obviously remembering the infamous animosity Harry once shared with Draco at school. "Is this correct, sir? You were with Malfoy all evening?"
"That's correct. I was in his presence the entire time from approximately half seven until we were notified of the fire by Mr Weasley."
"Bloody long dinner, then." Harry only barely heard Towler's reply, but chose to ignore it. Draco did hear it, but his face was unreadable.
"Is there anything else you need, Constable?" It was an obvious dismissal, and Harry and Draco just stood, watching the ruin as the constable headed back to the gate to Disapparate.
Draco could not get out of there fast enough. He was in enough emotional turmoil that he barely knew up from down. The Neo Death Eaters were definitely targeting him, of that he was certain. What made him ill at ease was the sudden suspicion that his father was not yet finished with his legacy of nasty surprises. Why was it not surprising that Lucius might have betrayed family secrets to allow something like this to happen? It went against all that Draco had been led to believe, but it was the only explanation. How else could someone get into the Manor? Lucius must have kept an unknown back door that was unknown to Draco.
He was still too numb to fully absorb the shock of what he was seeing. Harry sensed that he needed a little time alone, and allowed Draco to wander aimlessly away from the smoking ruin. His feet trod the familiar paths of the Manor gardens. These were mercifully untouched – a small thing in light of the overall destruction.
Thoughts of Lucius consumed him. He should know by now that everything he knew about the man needed constant reassessment. Until Lucius went to Azkaban, Draco had rarely questioned his father's judgement. After a summer without the bastard, he began to question a great many things.
During the war, Draco had worried that his role as spy had been compromised when he was suddenly moved from Lucius' inner circle of influence. His father claimed he was satisfied with Draco's stellar performance in the ranks, and left him to work under the guardianship of Phillip Parkinson – a young Death Eater who had shown great promise and made his way up the ranks very quickly. It had irked Draco at the time that his own father made him report to Pansy's older brother, for it left him out of the loop on much of the important information. Of course, the assignment had a few ... benefits. Phillip had been a rather convenient lover who managed to sometimes say a little too much in his sleep.
Hindsight was a wonderful thing – something Draco wished he could have had much sooner. Should he have been more suspicious? Phillip didn't seem to act as if Draco were a spy, but he rarely saw his father in that last year of the war. It was entirely feasible that his dual role may have been discovered. Now he would never know the truth, with both Lucius and Phillip dead – the latter at the end of his own wand, right after he was struck by the Aboleo Adesum; a parting gift from an early lover. Draco sneered.
Floundering in bad memories wasn't helping, but being at the Manor, he could hardly stop himself. It was entirely possible that Lucius had confided his secrets in someone else. It would explain how someone could have entered the estate to murder his mother.
Thoughts of Narcissa subconsciously led him to the rose garden – his mother's favourite place. The smell of the blooming buds temporarily masked the overwhelming tinge of smoke. It had seemed too long since he had thought about her, and he felt guilty for having almost forgotten her.
As he sat on the bench at the edge of the garden, his mind was caught up in a myriad of memories. Wherever he looked, he could see Narcissa kneeling and tending to her favourite garden beds, a smile ever-present on her face as she lovingly coaxed the buds to bloom and the thorns to abate. Draco never knew if it was by magic or just her own tender loving care, but looking at the roses now, he noticed that they didn't quite bloom as robustly as they once did. Either they knew their beloved mistress was gone, or Narcissa had truly made them bloom with her own magic. Perhaps it was the deep layer of sooty ash that prevented them from fully blossoming.
As a child, the Manor held no end of surprises for an enterprising young wizard with a penchant for getting into everything. Trying to get around every ward and protective spell had been half the fun of growing up. Even when he discovered such treasures as those Lucius kept in the secret rooms below his study, it had been fun. Leaving home for Hogwarts had been hard, but as he grew, he realised that the one thing he missed the most about home was not the house, nor the thousands of possessions within it that supposedly kept him occupied. Instead, it was his mother's presence. The scent of her perfume usually lingered in a room long after she had left it, and now, only here in the gardens could he feel some sense that she once existed.
Only now did he truly admit to himself that he could no longer stand to be in the Manor. A small part of him was slightly relieved the entire building had burned to the ground. Did that make him as cold hearted as his father? It was a small relief to know that he would never have to avoid stepping into his mother's bedchamber – the scene of her murder.
He unconsciously gripped the rosebud hard enough for the thorns to puncture his skin and allow the blood to drip freely. He could hear someone heading down the gravel path, and knew without looking that it was Harry. He was keeping a respectful distance, and for that, Draco was ever so grateful.
Harry stood at the head of a beautiful rose garden, the gravel under his feet unable to silence his approach. He saw the sad, yet somewhat serene reflection on Draco's face and halted. He truly was an incredibly handsome man, and Harry felt guilty for pausing at such a breathtaking sight. He really didn't want to intrude and spoil the moment. The gardens of Malfoy Manor were beyond magnificent and had escaped the wrath of the Balefire. Harry could only imagine growing up in such a wonderland. Although the Manor itself was close to the gate, the Malfoy lands fell away and covered many of the surrounding acres, reaching down to the edges of the forest far below.
The early morning birds twittered away in the nearby trees, as Draco turned to acknowledge Harry. He moved over and offered a seat beside him on the bench. Harry sat quietly, not wanting to break the peace. "You know, I saw these gardens in a magazine once and thought they were absolutely stunning. I can see why you always bragged about coming home for the school holidays." He pointed over at the giant hedges of the maze. "I bet you had fun flying through that."
A small smile crossed Draco's face. "Yes, it was rather fun. No matter how often I would fly over and through it on my broom, it was originally charmed to constantly change. The hedges always jump out and change location."
"Still, at least it isn't infested with sphinxes - or acromantulas." Harry didn't particularly have a fondness for mazes, shuddering at unforgettable memories.
"Don't be so sure, Harry." Draco ran his fingers over the petals of a new rose he had plucked from the bush. Harry noticed the fresh blood stains on his cuffs and saw that he wasn't really paying any attention to the thorns as they tore into the palm of his hand. He was undoubtedly in shock and was quite happy to chat about insignificant things to avoid thinking about the ruined Manor. "Lucius once or twice thought it was rather sporting to leave me alone in there with all manner of things wild and untamed."
"He never!" Harry thought his own neglect at the hands of the Dursleys was abominable. He thanked Merlin that he never had to put up with Lucius Malfoy's sadistic form of discipline. Household chores seemed like light relief in comparison. There was so much more to learn about Draco, and Harry realised he knew so very little about him.
Draco just nodded, but said nothing more as he continued to fondle the flower. Harry could resist no longer, and grabbed Draco's hand, carefully running his fingers over the encrusted blood. Draco didn't flinch, but seemed surprised to see the thorn embedded there. With careful precision, Harry removed it before touching the tip of his wand to the cut. Draco smiled, but didn't want to release Harry's hand as their fingers briefly entwined. Harry smiled at the reassuring gesture.
"Nobody thinks you had anything to do with this," Harry tried to help Draco forget his concerns.
Draco didn't want to think about it any more, but nodded. He changed the subject. "I didn't know you were planning on heading back to the Aurors, Harry," Draco replied conversationally. He didn't want to think that Harry might be leaving Hogwarts, but the thought crossed his mind.
"Actually, neither did I, to be honest," Harry admitted. "But they've been trying to get me back for a couple of weeks. I told them to sod off. I'm happy at Hogwarts and my future is there." He pointedly looked at Draco as he spoke, unsure if the true meaning of his words would be understood.
"So what changed your mind?" Draco was curious.
Harry didn't have to think to answer. "I don't really know. Perhaps I might just be able to put the hype that surrounds me to some good use, like helping a friend. Maybe it's about time I put 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' to work for my own nefarious reasons. Besides, I want to see these Neo Death Eaters neutralised as soon as possible. Somehow I don't think they're going to be able to get them without some help from me. "
Draco raised an eyebrow, "Nefarious? You?" he snorted mirthfully, but he didn't miss the reference to the fact that Harry considered him a friend. The happy moment was quickly lost as a loud crash of falling debris broke the stillness. They both turned around to see a large part of the roof had fallen in on the eastern wing. Draco reacted by turning back at the roses and losing himself in memories. "You know, this was probably the only place in this whole mausoleum that mother actually loved. She loathed the dank and dark places that she grew up in."
"I can only begin to imagine. If they were anything like Grimmauld Place, then I certainly would have had no joy growing up there."
Draco snorted, "You know, she thought that Lucius was going to take her away from all that. She wasn't stupid, but he tricked her into thinking that things were all going to be wine and roses as the mistress of Malfoy Manor. I think it was this rose garden of Grand-mere's that actually made her decide to marry him. When she couldn't curse him for being such a bastard, she would come down here and pour all her curses into the thorns of these bushes. Healthiest crop of flowers in the entire country." Draco could see Harry looking at him strangely.
"Sorry, you didn't need to know all that about my mother. I guess just being here is making me feel rather maudlin. I guess it surprises you that my parents weren't in the happiest of marriages."
Harry was indeed looking at Draco strangely. He was seeing Luc in a completely natural state. He remembered Luc's heartfelt words about his mother, and Harry had truly felt for her after reading of her horrid life. To know that this woman was Narcissa Malfoy only hit home at that moment. Suddenly the woman with her nose in the air as she accompanied her family to the Quidditch World Cup had more than just a face. Now things were becoming even clearer, for Harry knew that to be the source of Draco's penchant for hiding his true self behind a façade. After all, his mother had done that for most of her married life. It was a poignant moment, and Harry nearly blurted out the truth that he already knew – that he was Flash.
He stopped himself just as he realised it probably was the worst time he could say something like that. It would have to wait – but not for too much longer. A wave of guilt quickly passed through him, and he clasped his other hand around Draco's to show his understanding. "There's nothing here for me in this place, Harry. I loathe it." Draco swallowed visibly. "She never got the chance to escape, and by the time she had finally made the decision to leave, someone gave her a one way ticket out." Harry noted the moistness gathering at the corner of Draco's eyes and he completely understood his pain, even if he couldn't say that right now.
What did these Neo Death Eaters want with him? Wasn't it enough they had taken away so much already? What were they playing at by releasing something like Balefire to destroy Malfoy Manor? It was startling to think that between them, Voldemort and his henchmen had taken away so much of their lives. Harry vowed to ensure that they would both live their lives to the fullest to make up for such painful memories.
Draco must have been reading Harry's mind. "What do they want? Haven't they taken enough? Is this my payment for following my conscience?" He looked at Harry in earnest. "Do you think it was foolish of me to think that I would be safe after the war?"
Harry thought for a moment before answering. "I certainly don't think it would be terribly healthy to spend the rest of your life worrying if there were rogue Death Eaters around every corner, but no, I don't think it is foolish to hope that we will never need to fight evil again. Even when we get rid of the rest of these Neo Death Eaters, I'm not going to be foolish enough to think that someone else won't want to one day style himself as a Dark Lord. What I do hope is that everyone will remember just what Voldemort did, so that we can be grateful for what we fought so hard to have now."
Harry could sense the self-doubt that was welling inside Draco. He had seen Luc talk about it on several occasions, and this seemed to be another one of them. The combination of shock, along with the open expression of feelings from the night before was astounding. Draco had no reason to feel that way, and Harry needed to snap him out of that apathy.
"You know, they haven't taken away your pride, nor your courage. You just said you hate this place, and apart from these gardens, I think I would have to agree with you. You can't let them beat you." Harry was looking directly into Draco's steely gaze. He had not been so honest and forthright in quite a while, but he meant every word he said. "You don't deserve to be targeted by this scum. You worked harder than almost anybody during the war. If it weren't for you and Snape, who knows how many of us would be dead. I don't think I ever properly thanked you, Draco." Draco closed his eyes as Harry's words struck his heart. Ever so lightly, Harry raised Draco's chin to force him to look up again, but instead of a stern gaze, he kissed Draco ever so softly.
It was a kiss of encouragement - a kiss full of the promise of things to come. All Draco knew was that in that moment, he would believe anything Harry told him. Draco responded and returned the kiss, but unlike their fervent passion from the night before, they kept it fairly chaste. Draco was somewhat reassured that despite everything, there was still the possibility of a different future with Harry, and it felt so right. He reluctantly broke away from the kiss to find that Harry was smiling gently, yet without pity.
"You never did say where your grandfather's lab was situated. Was it in the dungeons?"
Draco knew he had to face the one thing he had been eagerly waiting on for so long. Turning to look back at the charred shell of the Manor, he nodded slowly, but snorted at the irony. "Oh it was definitely well protected in the dungeons. They had more protections than the rest of the Manor put together. Undoubtedly the Balefire would have destroyed everything within seconds."
Harry squeezed Draco's hand in understanding. It was still too hot to go searching around to find out if the dungeons survived the fire, but if they were as magically protected as Draco said, then there would be little hope that they would have remained undamaged. Again the sheer force of such dark and dangerous magic astounded Harry.
"I think you'll have to wait a while before you could look. I wouldn't want to risk any magic on clearing the ash or cooling it down."
Draco nodded. "Yes, it's probably wise." Draco stifled a small yawn, realising for the first time that he had not slept.
"I don't think there's much more that anyone can do here, at least not for a while, Draco." Harry glanced back over his shoulder and looked at the hulking ruin of the Manor. His own yawn quickly followed Draco's, but he doubted he would get the luxury of sleep.
Harry knew he was going to have to front up to Gordon and Claire and explain his actions, but that could wait until later in the day. He could not explain his sudden change of heart, other than knowing it was the only way to help Draco. They would only have themselves to blame. Hermione's voice echoed around in his head, and he reluctantly admitted that he definitely must have a saving people thing if he was now making such rash decisions about his life – all to help his soul mate.
Thoughts of Hermione suddenly turned to thoughts of Ron, but he wouldn't darken his mood by entertaining them yet. He was genuinely concerned about him, and he knew that he was going to have to get to the bottom of their differences, but not right now. There was definitely something not quite right there, but he could not place a finger on it. All he could see was that Ron had suddenly transformed into a bigoted and obnoxious twat that bore more of a resemblance to his brother Percy than to the person he had, until recently, considered as his closest friend.
Draco took a few steps back toward the house, and it was only then that Harry realised Draco was without his cane. Come to think of it, he didn't have it with him when he came to dinner. In their rush to leave the castle, Draco had obviously forgotten it, and Harry spotted a slight grimace of uncomfortable pain as he started to walk. Harry realised now the extent to which Draco relied on his cane, yet he would try not to let it show, no matter how much it hurt. Harry only hoped now that there never were any Pegasus Wingtips at the Manor, for it would only have made things all the more bittersweet.
After returning to the castle, Draco paused before entering his room. "Harry... I..." He was momentarily at a loss for words. He never once asked for Harry's help, yet it was offered unconditionally. He seemed to have taken charge of the evening's mess, and for that, Draco was truly grateful. Harry paused and turned, his face showing his own weariness, but he seemed completely open. "I... Thank you. You didn't have to come and help, but I am glad you did." Draco gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek and a tired smile before turning in. He left Harry standing there, and he was torn between letting him do his own thing, and asking him to come in and share his bed – to sleep. The thought of curling up next to Harry was just too tempting, but knew it wasn't appropriate right then.
Draco lay on his bed, his body thoroughly exhausted but his mind racing at a gallop. So much had happened in such a short time, he barely had time to process it all. He was tired beyond belief and his emotions were ragged. The Manor was gone, and there was not a damn thing he could do to bring it all back. There was no point in sulking about it.
But did he really want it all back? Or was he just being selfish? He loathed the Manor with a fierce passion and would have spent the rest of his life avoiding it as much as he could, yet now that that it was gone, he had trouble remembering exactly what he would miss. The only loss he truly regretted was that of his Grand-père's lab. His mind had been so focussed on getting into it, that now it was the only thing he could think of missing.
As he tried to forget it all, he began to run through everything that was now lost. It didn't matter if he would regret the loss or not, the mental inventory seemed never-ending as it churned through his head. Just when he thought he reached the end of the list, he remembered something else that was now gone forever. Antiques, Art, paintings, furniture and ancient Black family heirlooms were naught but ash and molten metal. The loss of the library was a pang that hurt deeply, but Draco became so wrought up in his thoughts, he eventually resorted to drinking a mild sleeping potion.
His thoughts turned to happier things as the potion worked through his system, and he didn't know how he could truly thank Harry for all that he had done that day. Draco was beginning to see how the former Gryffindor's helpful nature had nothing to do with self-promotion or trying to further his own cause. It had been totally selfless on Harry's part, and it showed that Draco was right in correcting his misconceptions about the man.
At the thought of preconceived ideas, his thoughts turned to Flash. The potion was making him feel rather charitable as he slowly drifted off to sleep, and he thought he should probably tell Flash just how good things seemed to be progressing with Harry. He fell asleep with a peaceful smile on his face – the thought that it was very likely that something more was about to happen with Harry providing a good omen that helped him drift off.
Harry didn't have the luxury of sleeping the morning away. He was tempted not to let Draco out of his sight for the day, and hesitated after Draco thanked him and gave him a chaste kiss. Harry smiled, and nearly asked if he wanted to rest in Harry's rooms. It was a long shot, and he didn't want to push things too far. Draco seemed only too keen to get some rest, and he promised he would do so. Remus had been looking for the both of them that morning and he took a late breakfast with the Werewolf, and the Headmaster, telling them all about the evening's tragic events.
Dumbledore was quite concerned about the sudden re-emergence of Balefire. He shook his head in disbelief at the notion.
"Such dark power is an abomination, and I cannot believe that any wizard would think that it is to be condoned. Either the person who did this was unaware of the horrifying consequences of using it during the war, or they did so by complete accident."
"I had hoped that nobody would be stupid enough to conjure it," Remus added, nodding in agreement.
"I wonder exactly what their point is – what are they trying to prove by doing this now? Why choose Draco as a target?" Harry was thinking aloud, but the Headmaster didn't fail to notice Harry's concern for the Potions apprentice. He smiled discreetly behind his beard. Remus shared the thought with a look and a slight nod. "If they are after him for being a spy, then why aren't they after Snape?"
The headmaster put down his teacup carefully and seemed suddenly concerned. "Has anyone heard from Severus?"
Remus shook his head and Harry shrugged, remembering that Luc had mentioned his concern for Severus in one of their journal conversations. He gave Remus a knowing glance before speaking, "Draco mentioned that he may have run into a couple of Neo Death Eaters over his holidays. His biggest concern is that Snape hasn't told him where he is, or what he is actually doing that might make him run into such people. I don't think he knows any more. You could ask him if you like, but I left him to get some rest. It was a long night. I suggested we go back to the Manor and sort through the rubble when it has cooled down, and there is no risk of the Balefire consuming any more magic. I'm certain we'll find the body of our culprit when we do."
Dumbledore agreed. "A wise idea, Harry. I'm certainly mystified as to why Severus chose now to go on an extended holiday." He looked a little frustrated at his Potion master's secrecy about his whereabouts. "Even if these Neo Death Eaters are targeting them for their work as spies, I think Draco's profile is a lot more public. The destruction of Malfoy Manor will not go unreported."
Harry was trying hard not to yawn, but he had plenty more to do before he could even consider having a sleep. "Yes, and I have a few Floo calls to make to some people. I have some explaining to do." Harry wasn't looking forward to that.
The headmaster just stared at him over the top of his glasses, seemingly in approval. "You know, I think it is wise that you have chosen to selectively return to your former position within the Ministry, Harry." Harry was surprised by that statement. He thought Dumbledore might not approve of his rash decision. "I am sure you can handle your old bosses. Don't concern yourself about your duties here at the school. I would only hope that we don't have to let this threat linger for too long, for if we let these Neo Death Eaters gain momentum, they will be much harder to dispel."
Harry had guessed correctly. The Floo had been burning high from the moment he returned to his rooms, until late in the afternoon. He barely remembered eating, but he recalled that Dobby shoved a few sandwiches under his nose. Buoyed by Dumbledore's confidence, he told Claire the whole story, and stated his own terms for returning to the job. Complete independence, answering only to Minister Bones and Dumbledore, and the authority to reorganise the Order of the Phoenix, if so required.
Claire seemed reluctant at first, but for once Harry refused to give in, stating specifically what he wanted, rather than making humble requests. He was sick and tired of bureaucracy ruining things and creating a protracted mess. Harry was going to find these annoying insurgents, and use everything and everyone he could put his hands on to stop them before they could do any further damage. If it meant treading on toes at the Ministry, then Harry was beyond caring.
Claire seemed quite intimidated by Harry's assertiveness, and Gordon was equally cowed an hour later as Harry repeated the call. By the middle of the afternoon, he discovered that issuing demands whilst clearly showing he was in charge was a much easier way to get them to agree than his bout of temper a few weeks earlier.
Alas, he could run things the way he wanted, but he could not avoid the inevitable paperwork. The lengthy and dull reports were his least favourite thing, and he tried hard to get it out of the way. He was hoping Draco would wake up and they could share an evening meal. He could only begin to imagine how Draco was feeling, but he would be there if he was needed.
Harry was fuelled to put all his effort into this. He couldn't bear to think of the losses that his soul mate now faced after being victimised by the Neo Death Eaters for so long. Harry wasn't sure if Draco was upset or angry, or just in shock, but he knew for a fact that the possible loss of the potions lab would be eating away at him. Goodness knows he suffered enough with the curse that limited his mobility. To lose out on the hope that he might have been able to lay his hands on the last necessary ingredient was almost too painful to think about, and Harry could only place the blame on Ron.
Ron. Harry honestly didn't know what to think. His anger was still raw at the thought of him. What right did he have to accuse Draco? Was he just being his usual stubborn self? Was it brought about by what he saw when he interrupted Harry and Draco? Was it something else? Harry really didn't care at that point, but he knew that it wasn't healthy to let things fester between them for too long. He toyed with the idea of mentioning his involvement as he did up his Auror report, but the only logical explanation for Ron's behaviour was spite, forced from years of hatred and rivalry. Ron found himself to have the upper hand in this situation, and he wasn't going to let it go too easily.
No sooner had he finished his last call, when Hermione's head popped into the fireplace. Her face was blank and unreadable – a sure sign that she was upset. "I thought you might want to talk about it, Harry." She offered calmly. He knew it was just the calm before another of her lectures.
A lecture from Hermione was the last thing he needed, or wanted right now. He had done nothing wrong in helping Draco, and his friends needed to realise that. If Ron was upset or feeling displaced about this new relationship, then he was the one who was going to have to deal with it. Harry wasn't stupid enough to think that Ron and Draco would become bosom buddies overnight, but he didn't want to find himself in a position of having to choose between them. If it came to that, he already knew the answer, and he wasn't ready to lose Hermione or Ron's company forever. If he weren't so angry at Ron right now, he might have told Hermione all his feelings, but he was too numb. In a bout of petulant selfishness, he told Hermione he was too busy to talk to her.
Hermione seemed a little put out, but she nodded, not really understanding, but willing to let Harry calm down. They all knew the extent of his temper when it flared. "All right, Harry. But please don't leave things for too long. He's upset too. I've never seen him quite this angry before, Harry, and I know that you can sort this out. You've done it before, and I know you'll do it again.
Their awkward conversation ended quickly, but Harry didn't feel any guilt for being so brusque. He was focussed on one thing only, and that was helping Draco. He loathed writing reports, and it was a tedious task filling out the necessary forms. So tedious, in fact, that he drifted off to sleep. It seemed much later when he awoke, as the shadows falling across the room were much darker. Checking his watch, he saw that he had managed a couple of hours of sleep.
Far from feeling refreshed, his sleep was dreamless, yet he felt unsettled. His scar twinged and he frowned as he realised the source of his uneasy feeling. In his haste, he had missed his exercises and his early morning T'ai Chi. Combined with so little sleep, he realised he was picking up some dark magic activity. The Neo Death Eaters were busy.
Harry's immediate concern was for Draco, and he leapt out of the chair to go and check on him. He would have preferred a full sleep, but his concerns for Draco were more important. The idea of lying down and sleeping next to Draco was more tempting than ever, but more than that, Harry simply needed to know if Draco was okay.
A quick shower gave Harry a second wind. He stood at Draco's door, but halted just as his hand was poised to knock. Let him sleep, he'll come to you if he needs you – don't push it. In the end he sent Dobby in to check, and learned that Draco was sleeping peacefully, but the house elf did confirm that he had probably taken a sleeping potion, for he seemed to be sleeping soundly.
Harry was glad when Dobby reassured him it wasn't anything more potent than a mild sleeping potion. Harry was at a bit of a loose end now that he was on his own. He really wasn't up for any company, not Charlie or Remus, at least, and it was too late to head down to Hogsmeade.
He attempted a good number of exercises to centre himself, but realised the futility of them all. He wanted to be with Draco, and not having any answers to help his soul mate was frustrating beyond belief. Harry would have researched Balefire, if he didn't already know all there was to know about the darkest of elemental magics. What he really needed to do was return to the Manor and sift through the rubble in the hope of finding any clues as to who might have set it off. If he were lucky, he would find the remains of the wizard who cast it lying dead amongst the rubble. He only hoped they hadn't been vaporised in the process.
Petite Amie leapt in through the window with an almighty yowl of displeasure. She was quite verbose in her trip around Harry's kitchen in search of some dinner. Realising Draco was in no position to feed her, he gave her some leftover chicken from their meal the night before, and the cat relished it for the fine food that it was.
"Surely you would have preferred a nice, juicy rat to that?" Harry muttered to the cat. She gave him a glare that was so reminiscent of her owner's own affronted stare that he knew she was too spoiled to ever want for a gourmet meal. Satisfied with her reward for disrupting his evening, Petite Amie leapt into his lap as he tried to finish the remaining sections of his report for Claire. Her constant purring was not helping him to focus on his task, and very soon he sat back and was ready to sleep.
As he opened the drawer to put away his quills, his eyes fell on the journal. He doubted Draco would have read his last frantic apology – not after the last hectic day – but he pulled it out and felt the positive and loving magic surrounding it. Now that he knew the true purpose of this journal, he could sense the magic as it drew him in.
The quill was in his hand, and he was adding to his earlier words of apology.
July 14 Dearest Luc, I don't know if you've read my last entry, but a few things have happened and I need to sort them out. I'm not asking you to help, but I know that writing them down will help me to make sense of them. I guess it's the Muggle upbringing. One wizard I work with suggested that I put things into a Pensieve, but I really don't like those things – too many bad memories, no pun intended. I meant what I said to you earlier, Luc. I am sorry for being a bit of a self indulgent prat and ignoring you. Things have been happening at a frightening pace here – not that I'm complaining, but I've done my best to help one friend today. I don't know if you'll ever see this, but I guess I'm trying to make amends here. Do you ever find that when one door opens, another one is closing behind you? That's how I'm feeling today. I might be losing a very long and important friendship, and I'm torn about it, even if he's being a complete arse about the situation at hand. I found out recently that my oldest friend hasn't really been totally honest with me. After all these years I discover that he really is uncomfortable about the fact that I'm gay, and that hurts, because he's told me many times that it never bothered him. Why would he do that? I'm beginning to think that he's either hiding something, or there's someone else influencing him. Have you ever had a problem like that? Why am I sitting here eagerly awaiting you to answer? I really do miss you, Luc. You would know exactly what needs to be done to get him to see sense, but then again, I don't want to lose what is developing with my colleague.Harry sat back and surveyed his words. He could not believe that the journal pulled out all his concerns about Ron. He had no idea of what Draco would do when he found out, but the guilt of not telling Draco sooner was starting to eat away at him. He remembered Emmaline's and Remus' warnings about telling Draco the truth before he was ready to hear it, but he knew it would not be pleasant when he did find out. That knowledge was eating away at him, and he knew exactly how Draco felt when he had trouble apologising to him.
It was a pleasant surprise to see a drop of green ink hit the page and Draco's words started to flow onto the page.
Draco woke to the soft purring of Petite Amie as she chose his chest as her preferred pillow. It was relaxing, and Draco would have rolled over and gone back to sleep had a sliver of his conscious mind not reminded him that he needed to eat. As he became more aware of his hunger, he remembered a number of other less happy thoughts.
The sleep-easy potion always left Draco feeling a little hazy, yet comfortable. He yawned deeply and Petite Amie yowled her displeasure at the fact her pillow was getting out of bed, digging her claws in to keep from falling. Draco picked her up and placed her back on his own pillow, but she didn't think that was good enough. She glared at him with one eye open. The moment Draco stood, his knee protested, and he remembered the evening in vivid clarity. He lazily flicked his wand in the direction of the kitchen, a pot of coffee starting to brew. He downed the first painkilling potion he could lay his hands on from his supply cupboard, and immediately began to feel some relief.
He was doing his best not to think, as he prepared his coffee. He noticed the tray, covered by a warming charm. The soup was filling and the bread quite fresh as he concentrated on the mundane things for a while. He didn't want to think on anything else as he forced himself to chew and swallow.
Petite Amie, wide awake now, decided she needed dinner also, so Draco lifted the preservation charms on some juicy lamb he had put aside for her. She was most grateful for the meal. She had no intention of telling Draco she had already eaten with Harry. She was not about to pass up a second free meal. Melchett's doleful hooting interrupted him, and he noticed the owl was sitting regally on top of his desk with his mail. Draco brought his coffee over to read the letters, hoping nothing else would bring him bad news. There was only one letter, and Draco frowned as he picked it up. It was his own letter to Severus – returned unopened. "Did you have trouble finding him, Melchett?" Draco asked the owl. He seemingly understood and hooted a distressed reply. He didn't like being unsuccessful in delivering his mail. It worried Draco more than it should. Particularly after the events of the morning.
He handed Melchett some treats before asking him to try delivering the letter again. He was only too happy to try and make his delivery. Draco was still concerned, but Severus did say that he was going to be rather difficult to get in touch with. He would worry about it if the letter came back again.
As he watched Melchett head off in the distance, he noted a familiar ruffle of pages, and turned to find the journal opening up at his elbow. Flash was there. His earlier anger at being snubbed was practically forgotten, and Draco eagerly began to read. He felt awful for having sounded so rude the night before, but Flash gave a plausible apology. It seemed he was a little harsh to judge Flash so quickly.
His quill was in his hand before he knew it, and the words were flowing on to the page. He had so much to tell Flash.
I am the one who should be apologising, Flash. The journal flew open just now, and I've only just read your words from last night. I am sorry I was so harsh, but as you know, I manage to turn everything into a worst-case scenario. For a couple of weeks I imagined that you were ignoring me because of my past, but I can now see that I was overreacting, and for that I apologise. It is so good to talk to you though. I've had a hellish couple of days, and now I just want to forget about almost all of it. I am relieved you haven't left forever, Luc. I promise I will be a little more forthcoming and tell you exactly what is going on when I can't write. I haven't judged you on past deeds; indeed, you should be praised for the work you have done.Harry was about to agree with Draco's statement that his day had been hellish, but he realised that would lead to questions that would reveal too much. He couldn't bring himself to admit his identity. Remus' voice was ringing in his head. Draco had enough turmoil in his day – he didn't need this to ruin it further.
Sorry to hear that your days have been hellish. I hope things are improving now. I can't say that things have been hellish here, but I've had some recent eye opening experiences, but I don't regret anything I've said or done in these past days. I was really just writing to try and sort out my confusion. Have you ever had any homophobic friends? What would you say to them if you did? I'm guessing your friend is a pure-blood wizard? What makes you say that? I guess most of my friends have been quite liberal in their thinking. I know the pure-bloods in my family would not have been that impressed – I guess it is why I thought of myself as bisexual for the longest time. It doesn't sound 'so bad' when you couch it like that. The family will then at least know you might marry and raise many more pure-blooded children that way. Many pure-bloods have a real aversion to homosexuality. I'm not saying that they are all exclusively heterosexual – I'm proof enough of that, but most prejudices lie with the old blood. I'm trying not to sound elitist when I say that, but it is a fact. I'm not saying that it doesn't exist either – people can't help being the way they are, so many pure-blood wizards have hidden it, or made hasty marriage decisions to appease their families. I never thought of it like that. I realise that to many pure-bloods of the old order, the continuation of the pure-blood lines was most important, so I can see why it would be quite a shock. My friend has a couple of gay brothers, and his eldest brother is quite vocal in his opposition to same sex relationships. You would think he would be more concerned about his little sister sleeping with nearly every wizard in Europe. I think I would be more concerned about that too. Pure-bloods can be quite stubborn when it comes to their beliefs, Flash. It was quite a shock when I realised that I didn't want to be a Death Eater like my father. It was always assumed that I would follow in my father's footsteps. It took 16 years to train me up to believe they were all doing the right thing, but for me to think that through and do what I did, went against everything I was led to believe in. Well whatever you did, know that if you followed your conscience, then it was the right thing to do. I've just learned recently that following my heart might take me to the most curious places, but now that I look back, I am glad for the journey. I've made plenty of mistakes along the way, and recent decisions have started to show promise. Sounds like you are progressing well, then. Congratulations. I'm a little too frightened to say anything about Mr Grungy Jeans. Why is that? Oh, I guess I'm just feeling a little down. Things seem to be going so well. Too well, in fact. I know that whenever something this good happens to me, something horrid always happens, and I end up in more pain. We haven't exactly talked about it yet – or taken it terribly far – we were interrupted on the couch just as things were warming up. And you'll be only satisfied if they 'warm up'? Aren't you looking for them to start sizzling? I am too emotionally drained right now to hope for anything more. My family home was attacked by Neo Death Eaters last night, and I am still trying to come to terms with it.Harry paused, unsure if he would give himself away, but he needed to show suitable shock. This journal really was a curse now, and he wanted to tell Draco everything so he could get over this self-consciousness of every word he wrote.
Merlin! Are you all right? Is anyone hurt? What happened? To be honest, I'm really not sure what happened, but I have no doubt that I've been targeted by the Neo Death Eaters because of my former job during the war. I thought they might have forgotten about me, but it seems they have long memories, and now they are seeking to hurt me indirectly. I've been up all night, and I only just woke up from a potion-induced sleep. I'm not sure exactly how I feel at the moment. I'm not upset about the house, which might sound horribly callous of me, but I just can't stop thinking about him. There is one thing I do know for sure. What's that? I know that the man I'm falling in love with is entirely selfless. I used to think he was trying to be a show off, but he managed to take charge of this situation and I don't know how to thank him. I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't there. Friends usually band together in a crisis, Luc. I'm sure he was only doing what he thought was right. I guess I'm just not used to people helping me, Flash. In spite of all the things that I've lost, I keep returning back to the thought that he did all of this to help me. People haven't exactly gone out of their way to do that in the past. I'm not sure how to react to that sort of help now. If he's truly doing this to help you, he'll get satisfaction from knowing that he's done everything he can. I'm sure he's not expecting you to give him anything in return. It feels strange knowing that people care about you in that way. I know I am probably still in shock, but I'm trying to avoid thinking too hard about what I've lost. You mentioned earlier that the past was in the past. I'm beginning to think that my family home burning down is a sign that the past is now over. Perhaps it's just the potion talking instead – I don't know. These potions certainly mess with one's head at times. I know I really shouldn't have, but I took a painkiller on top of the sleeping potion, and I'm still a bit... giddy, so you'll excuse me for dismissing the serious issues for now. And what about your mentor? He seems to have done a lot to help you – that's showing friendship. Actually my mentor is on holidays, but I'm a little concerned. I sent him a letter, and my owl just returned with it unopened. I've sent the owl off again – but I'll worry if it comes back again. He did want to be alone (there's a funny story as to why he's 'run away', but I'll tell you about that later). Are you sure you should be taking any painkillers? You know what happened to you a few months ago. Is it safe to take it with a sleeping draught? Don't worry, they were both mild. I really should sleep more, but I needed to stop thinking for a while. But do you know, I've just realised that I'm not as upset as I should be. Am I a bad person? You should take up some form of meditation. It works wonders for clearing the mind before you rest. No, you're not a bad person. After what you told me about your father, then it might be something of a relief for your childhood home to be gone. I know you'll have lost some precious things that are probably irreplaceable, but that just gives you a chance to start collecting things that you like. I should. You're right. Your suggestions are usually right. Everything that I experience in life teaches me something more about myself, and the things that I have learned just from talking to you are so incredibly profound. I don't think a year ago that I was really the same man I am now. So, when are we meeting?Harry was jolted for a moment by Draco's question. By his own admission he was feeling a little high from some mild potions, but was it the potions or Draco talking? He still wanted to go ahead with their meeting?
You did say in your last entry that you didn't want to cancel our meeting, Flash. I think it is a perfect opportunity to thank you for everything. I like to know who my friends are, and as you are one of them, then we should definitely meet. I apologise again for my petulant entry from last night, and I need to make it up to you. I had a crazy thought, and tell me if you agree. Tell me what you're thinking. You know, Lammas is coming up on August 1, and it is a time when we should reflect on how our lives cycle and entwine with our choices and our experiences. I was always taught to appreciate my actions and deeds, all that I've experienced and gained and lost at that time of year. You've helped me through a couple of very difficult choices, and that's making me into the man that I had always hoped to be. I can see that now. So what are you saying, Luc? I agree that I could say exactly the same about you. I wouldn't be the man I am without you to help me through some tough decisions. I never really thought of Lammas in that way, but as you know, I'm new to most of this, and I've only really been celebrating the greater Sabbats. I know we were going to try and meet up sooner, but I think somehow that it would be fitting to meet on a Sabbat – even if it isn't one of the greater Sabbats. That gives us a couple of weeks.Harry was tired of skirting around the truth. Confessing things to Draco would be much easier the sooner he did it. But would Draco be ready to hear the truth then? That was the burning question. The idea of revealing his identity on such a poignant Sabbat was not lost on Harry, and he knew that the timing would be just right.
You know, that's a really good idea. Excellent! I really want to thank you, Flash, for being my friend. If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't realise just how wonderful this man is, and I'm beginning to think that I don't want to let him go. But a part of me thinks that he is a little too good to be true, and I don't deserve him. That's just the potions talking now, Luc. You deserve all the happiness you can get. You wouldn't dare let these Neo Death Eaters get the better of you – why would you doubt your right to happiness? You're right, as usual. I was planning on spending the Sabbat at the Callanish Standing Stones on the Isle of Lewis in the Western Isles. I know it's fairly remote, but it's the most wonderfully magical place. My mother used to take me there for summer solstice and for a few of the harvests as a child. I was probably only going to go to the local gathering, but if the Isle of Lewis is important to you, then I would be honoured to meet you there, Luc. Excellent. But how will I recognise you? You'll have no trouble recognising me, I'll be the handsome one.Harry laughed aloud. I don't think you'll have any trouble recognising me, Draco. And yes, you certainly are the handsome one.
How about I bring my journal... but then again, how will you recognise it?He suddenly realised that while he knew that Draco's journal looked almost like his, Draco was unaware of that.
Mine has this beautiful tapestry cover in all shades, and it has black leather corners. My journal is exactly as you describe, only the tapestry is on the corners, and the rest is black leather. It sounds just like they have complementary covers, right? Yes! So you'll bring yours too? Absolutely. You know, I was really angry at you the other night, but now that I've had yet another shift in perspective about my life and my future, I realise that I should not bottle things up inside. Talking about things is good. Unfortunately, I have a load of things going on that I wish you could help me with, but you can't. I really don't want to head back and deal with reality. Perhaps you should get a good night's sleep. I know it doesn't sound like much, but a good sleep and some meditation can help to put things into perspective. I can't argue with that philosophy. Hopefully when I wake up tomorrow, my knight in shining armour (or grungy jeans) will still be willing to help me. I could not have made it through today without him. He is... everything I think I've ever wanted. You say you aren't used to friends helping you, but I'm sure that if he is as wonderful as you say, he'll do everything he can to help. Why don't you go and talk to him in the morning? Thank him yourself. Yes, I think I will. But will we be getting a chance to chat before Lammas? Of course, I would not miss it for the world. It would take something catastrophic for me to miss talking to you again. I swear. Meeting you has been something I've looked forward to for a very long time. Me too. Please take care this week, Flash. I will. You too. I'll see you later! (Now I really mean it!) Thanks again. The thought of finally meeting you has lifted my spirits somewhat. Thanks again, and I promise I will go and talk to my man first thing in the morning. Will he be upset that you're planning on meeting me? Won't he want to join you for Lammas? I don't know. We aren't quite at that stage... yet. But he's got plenty of friends. I'm sure he can't begrudge me having my own - It's not like you and I are going to hook up – oh, sorry. Now I feel awful. Please, don't. I'm not going to apologise again for telling you that I love you. I'll always have enough love in my heart for more than one person. Remember that. I will. Take care, Luc See you next week, FlashThe conversation left Draco feeling better. At least he had been mistaken about Flash and his reasons for not being able to reply in the journal. Draco knew he had difficulty with things when they didn't go his way, but he was learning. He was glad that he was meeting Flash. After his initial reluctance, it seemed so right. Flash's words about the past being left behind were playing on his mind, and that helped him to keep from getting too stressed about his loss. He was upset, but knew that he wasn't going to give the Neo Death Eaters the satisfaction of knowing the depth of his pain. He was not going to give them the satisfaction of doing anything else to torment him – what else did he have, anyway?
Thoughts of Harry plagued him then, but he was still too tired to think clearly. He would tackle it all in the morning. For now, he would sleep, and go about getting on with his future. After all, tomorrow was a new day.
July 16, Wednesday
It was Wednesday by the time Harry and Draco made it back to the Manor. The intensity of the Balefire made the ruins smoulder for much longer than a non-magical fire. It was testament to the amount of magic that was in the Manor. If Balefire flattened Malfoy Manor in such a fashion, they could only imagine what it would have done had Voldemort used it against Hogwarts. It didn't even bear thinking about, for the consequences in such a magical place would have been beyond comprehension.
Draco had followed Flash's advice and gone to thank Harry on Tuesday morning. He thought he would have trouble saying thank you, but saw that Harry seemed just that little bit more buoyed by the fact that he now had a definite purpose in overcoming the obstacles before them to get rid of the Neo Death Eaters.
"Have you heard from Snape today, Draco?" Harry asked.
Draco hadn't voiced his concerns, but that morning, Melchett had returned a second time with Severus' letter still unopened. He thought the owl might have forgotten the tracking spell – he wasn't such a young owl any more. "My owl keeps returning his letters unopened."
"So Snape is out of contact." Harry sounded equally as concerned.
"Yes." Draco didn't like that they were both thinking the same thoughts. "But naturally he didn't tell anyone where he was going."
"I know. I thought he might have told Dumbledore, but even the headmaster is unaware of his location."
"He was making himself unplottable for many reasons. I had hoped that his run-in with Nott and Flint went unnoticed." Draco was becoming more concerned, but had no idea how to get in touch with Snape. He would just have to keep sending letters.
"He ran into Nott and Flint?" Harry asked in surprise, but remembered the conversation in the journal. They must have been the Neo Death Eaters Luc had spoken about.
"Did I not mention that? Sorry," Draco felt guilty, but Harry nodded in a way that made Draco feel uneasy. Harry said nothing more as he put aside his thoughts and feelings for Severus as he steeled himself to return to what was left of Malfoy Manor. It wasn't much. Draco was surprised to see that Harry was disallowing any other investigators to be at the scene without him. He was pleased to learn that nobody else could gain access to the property until the Aurors had finished their investigation, so he would have a reprieve from Weasley and his smug assertions.
Unfortunately, the damage didn't look any better in the light of a new day. With all traces of smoke and heat gone, the light breeze was picking up the ash and starting to spread it further. It was now safe to perform magic around the damage, and Harry cast a spell to keep the ash from scattering. They would need as much in place as possible for their investigation. Draco hesitated as he stepped over what was once the threshold. His robes were already repelling the fine ash, but he knew the smell would not leave his nose in a great hurry.
Harry called Constable Towler back to the scene, for he wanted to ensure that this investigation was conducted by the book. Draco was surprised to learn that Harry only answered now to Rufus Scrimegour, not his former Auror bosses, but it showed that at least someone was serious about catching these Neo Death Eaters. He heard Harry muttering that one good constable was worth more than two bumbling Aurors if he had asked any more to come along.
Draco would have preferred to have been as far from the ruins as possible, but he had to know if anything in the dungeons survived. Once he had a definitive answer, then he could get on with his future.
They sifted through piles and piles of ash, with the odd lump of metal to break the monotony. As he stood in the middle of what was once the dining hall, he frowned. Harry noticed the puzzled look. "What's wrong?"
"The library was above this room. Shouldn't there be more ash than this? Most of those books had more spells protecting them than in public libraries. I would have thought they would have produced more debris than this."
Harry frowned now too, but there was little he could do to recreate the events of Sunday evening. Gaggy, the lone house elf who survived, had been interviewed. Draco had not forgotten her. She had been hiding out in the coach house (which was still standing), but she wrung her hands and her ears in despair. She was at a complete loss about what to do. It took quite a bit of coaxing on Draco's behalf to convince Gaggy that she should work at Hogwarts.
"But Master, Gaggy doesn't want to work with Dobby, he's a bad elf!" Gaggy exclaimed. Even now, Dobby's independence was shameful to many elves. Draco nodded his head in understanding. Gaggy was Dobby's sister, and Draco knew that Dobby shamed not only the Malfoy family, but his own elf family.
"But I live at Hogwarts now, Gaggy. I need my elf there. There is nothing for you here now." Gaggy seemed to want to protest further, her ears drooping at the thought. Her eyes suddenly widened at a thought.
"Gaggy would be pleased to serve you at the French Malfoy residence until you rebuild the Manor," Gaggy seemed excited at the prospect. "I can still help Master Draco if I work there!" Draco was surprised at the thought of rebuilding Malfoy Manor. It was something he really had not yet considered.
"But I don't need you there – besides, the place is rented out most of the year – I guess I'll just have to give you clothes if you don't want to come to Hogwarts," he sighed dramatically.
"Ooh, no! Gaggy will come to Hogwarts then! Gaggy doesn't want clothes! Gaggy isn't bad like her brother Dobby, sir." Gaggy seemed resigned to the prospect of working at the school, but nodded stoically.
Harry stepped up to talk to the old elf. "Has anyone been here, or disturbed anything here since the fire, Gaggy?" he asked. The elf was again wide eyed at being addressed by Harry. She kept glancing at his scar, and seemed a little subdued.
"It's all right, Gaggy. Harry is helping us investigate. He only wants to know what happened. I promise he won't be giving any more clothes to Malfoy elves." Draco knew full well that it was Harry who had tricked his father into freeing Dobby. Until his return to Hogwarts, he was used to getting by without the elves. Dobby was a funny creature, and he warmed to the quirky elf. It helped that he could now brew coffee. Draco had known all the other elves since he was a child. It hurt somewhat to know that so many of them perished to try and save the Manor. Gaggy was quite a good elf, if a little prone to the dramatic like her brother.
"No, sir," Gaggy was answering Harry's question. "I knows the fire was eating all magic, so we haven't come any closer to it." As she spoke she glared sideways at the ruins.
Harry continued. "So you don't know if the dungeons are accessible?" He was getting right to the point. Draco was keen to find out about the potions lab.
Gaggy shook her head. "No, Harry Potter, sir, I don't know."
"Well there's only one way for us to find out," Harry smiled warmly at Draco, a look of hope passing between them. Draco was more than grateful. The fact that Harry seemed to have the same thought only buoyed his spirit.
Harry had only one reason for returning to Malfoy Manor. Well, two, actually. He needed for Draco to know if his Grandfather's lab was safe, but then it would be a double edged sword if it were, and then they found out that there were no Pegasus Wingtips there. Perhaps it was better that it were obliterated and Draco would be none the wiser. Still, that sort of thinking didn't help cure Draco's curse.
It had been a long couple of days, and Harry had worried the whole time about Draco. He recognised that his own control exercises were blocking out the Neo Death Eater activities, but he also saw the need to keep some sort of connection open to them. Instead of working his hardest to reach full control whilst doing his exercises, Harry chose to forego some of them. He realised he would be foolish to stop them altogether, but he tried to maintain a connection to the twinge that was aching occasionally through his scar.
What he had not expected was the sheer dark energy that was surrounding the ruins of Malfoy Manor. The place reeked of dark magic, but it was obviously just the residue of the Balefire. The sooner they could leave this place, the happier Harry would be. The look on Draco's face mirrored his thoughts. As he watched Draco, his concern deepened. Draco didn't seem to be as shocked as he would have suspected. If Harry had to describe his mood, he would have suggested that he was numb.
They had shared a meal at the castle since the fire, but both men were completely sober and rekindling their lust seemed a little awkward at that point. Each of them had too many other things to be concerned about. Harry was worried how Draco would react when he learned the truth. It wasn't fair that he couldn't say anything, but Emmaline and Remus had been firm. He wouldn't allow himself to get carried away with Draco again – not before he knew the full truth. Of course, there was always the risk that Draco would not be happy about Flash's identity, but he would deal with that when the time came.
Harry's second reason for returning to the Manor was simply to find any clues that might lead him to one or more of the culprits. Knowing Snape was not getting his mail was a big concern, and he knew Draco was trying hard not to let his concern for the Potions master show. Seeing Snape through Luc's eyes made Harry more congenial toward his old professor. He knew he would never like the man – too many years of his bullying saw to that, but he could see now that he did have some sense of nobility. After all, he was the one to help Draco when he was down. He would never have imagined that Snape would help by giving Draco an apprenticeship. He was losing more misconceptions every day. Whatever Snape's personality, Harry knew that he didn't deserve to be targeted by Neo Death Eaters either.
"Where was the entry to the dungeon?" Harry asked.
Draco seemed hesitant, but knew he could not avoid this any longer. He pointed his cane and started walking toward the back of the ruins. He trod carefully – the last thing he needed to do was trip over the rubble. With a slight flick of his wand, Draco moved the rubble away from what remained of the back wall of the Manor. A stone archway was still standing – blackened, but intact. Draco pointed at the molten metal and spoke, "The door that was here was four inch thick oak." There was nothing now but more piles of grey ash.
The steps down to the dungeon were intact, and after clearing some fallen stones, they could both see that the spiral staircase leading down was still there. Draco seemed a little more animated as he realised the stairwell seemed to be in one piece. They descended carefully, trying hard not to touch the sooty walls, but failing miserably. Draco had a smudge of soot across his cheek, and Harry wanted to wipe it away. He was so filthy from the ash, he would probably only make it worse.
A chill feeling crept through Harry and he shivered, holding his lit wand a little higher to see.
"What are you thinking?" Draco asked as he noted the tension in Harry's shoulders and the look of concern on his face.
"Constant Vigilance." Draco smirked and nodded at the sentiment.
"Best lesson of them all," Draco stopped and was staring at a blank section of bricks. His fingers traced patterns against the wall, getting dirtier by the minute. "You are wise to think of it here. I never had time to neutralise all of father's little surprises down here. I'm just checking to see..." Draco quickly raised a Protego shield and held Harry back from stepping any further. A poisoned dart came flying out from a crack in the mortar.
Harry had put up his own protection shield just in time, and the dart fell harmlessly to the floor. Draco kicked it away with his foot. "See, it's the little things like that."
"But it would have harmed you," Harry seemed confused.
"I can only guess that the magical wards that recognise my Malfoy blood have failed." Draco smirked in irony, "...or Lucius had some special tricks installed into the house in the event that Potter ever came here."
Harry shook his head, "I had only been joking about the poison darts when I mentioned them the other night." Harry was just grateful that the two of them had avoided the dart. Draco was nodding in relief. Harry could see the pained look of concern on Draco's face as they continued down the stairs – protection shields still held in place.
Draco let out a gasp and stopped at the next landing. A massive hole had blown in the wall, spilling debris all over the steps and a charred door lay fallen across to the side.
Harry had to ask the question, but could already guess the answer from the look on Draco's face. "What was behind there?"
"The lab," he replied, with no emotion in his voice.
Harry nodded silently, putting an arm around Draco's shoulders as they both stared into the charred blackness beyond. Draco tensed at the touch at first, but Harry quickly felt a wash of weariness go through Draco and he slumped, quite dejectedly. Harry said nothing, just held Draco harder.
The lab was gone. Draco had hoped that it might have been spared – that the entire dungeon had been spared, but there was no such luck. Apart from the entrance, the other walls were intact, yet completely charred to the point of having burned off the top layers of stone. This gave large sections of the walls a glassy appearance.
Draco felt Harry's arm come around his shoulder in a comforting gesture. He didn't realise just how tense he had been until he felt that support, and he melted into it. This had been his last hope, and unless Pegasus Wingtips were completely fire retardant and indestructible, then he would have little hope of finding them. Best to think that there weren't any there in the first place.
"It must have been a magnificent laboratory," Harry commented, but Draco didn't reply. He broke away from Harry and wandered over to the back wall. A large fireplace was still intact. Draco knelt to touch the cauldron that was inside.
Harry didn't like the ominous silence, and didn't think they should hang around there for too long, but he could understand Draco's pain. He remembered a pilgrimage he once made to the ruins at Godric's Hollow, and the associated pain, so he waited quietly. Draco didn't speak as he make his way around the room, carefully turning over blown out cauldrons and sifting through the ashes to try and identify something that might have survived the blast.
Harry wandered around carefully, intrigued by the glassy surface on the walls. The Balefire certainly didn't leave the same glassy surface on the walls in the upper Manor. Harry frowned, trying to remember something from the last time it was used by the Death Eaters. Looking back at the door to the lab, he noticed something odd about the way the rubble had fallen. He ran his hand along the walls from the entrance back to an alcove near the fireplace. This was where the glassy surface of the walls was almost crystalline. His foot bumped something hard under the ash, and he increased the light from his wand as he bent down to investigate.
"I think the Balefire was initially started in this room, Draco."
"What gives you that impression?" Draco asked curiously as he came over to where Harry was kneeling.
"Well, the rubble around the entrance has blown out – like some sort of powerful blast was generated inside this room. And the walls – the outer layer has been turned to glass – the heat in the initial blast of Balefire is tremendous. Besides, there's a dead body down here, and I'm willing to bet he was the one who started it."
The lump that Harry had kicked earlier was not a fallen stone, but what remained of a skeleton. Draco could see that now. Whoever it was must have not been able to escape the blast, and had perished almost immediately. Not one identifying ounce of flesh or fabric remained on the body. Draco seemed anxious, "Is there any way we can tell who it is? Is it a witch, or wizard?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm sure that someone back at the Ministry would be able to eventually tell us. There's really only bone left, and I was never one for those sorts of spells. But that's not the real question, is it?"
Draco nodded in agreement. "How in Merlin's name did he get in here? I changed most of the protective wards on the Manor a couple of years ago – before I left for Paris. The more I think about it, the more I know I used the strongest protections I knew. I didn't particularly want any uninvited former colleagues from doing exactly this. I don't understand..." He seemed extremely puzzled and affronted by the thought that his protections were lacking in any way. His eyes suddenly lit up in understanding, "But… But surely it isn't possible..."
Now it was Harry's turn to frown, "What?"
Draco was almost laughing hysterically. "I was extremely particular with the protections I wove. The only way anyone should have been able to get in here was if they had Malfoy blood. That was the only way I could be sure... Guess I was mistaken."
Harry looked astounded, "You don't think Lucius..."
Draco shook his head and sneered, "Unless someone has brought him back from the dead, then no, it absolutely cannot be Lucius." He seemed relieved by that fact. "Come to think of it, I don't think my wards failed. Lucius just keeps leaving more and more surprises."
"What's that?" Harry wasn't sure what Draco meant, but he had not failed to notice that he rarely, if ever, called him 'father'. It always seemed to be 'Lucius'.
"I know you called me a bastard on numerous occasions, Harry, but I think we might have uncovered a real one."
Harry's eyes widened in complete surprise at the thought that the remains of this wizard was some half-brother or sister to Draco. Draco was still shaking his head. "Oh, don't be so surprised, Harry. Lucius rarely kept to his own bed once I was born. I found that one out a long time ago." The look of frustration on his face was evident. "I'm just angry that I never thought of something like this. He obviously got the loyal Death Eater child he wanted."
Harry was still too stunned. "I wonder who it could have been," he suggested. "I'm guessing he was a pure-blood."
"You could be sure of that, Harry. Lucius might have not have been monogamous, but he would not have lowered himself to sleeping with anything less than a pure-blooded witch." Draco seemed more curious now about the identity of the body. He did have a vested interest, after all. "Are you sure there is no way we can identify who it is?"
Harry shook his head and sighed, "Not right away, but I think we should get this out of here and get Towler to take it back to the Ministry in London. I'm even more curious now as to whom it could be. Still, there might not be enough magic left in the body to identify it. They might have to resort to the Muggle methods of identification. Why would they have tried to get into this room of the Manor first? That's what's puzzling me. If they were going to start a fire, why not do it in the entry hall?"
"I have absolutely no idea… If they were of Malfoy blood, they could have Apparated anywhere within the Manor. Why did I not foresee something like this?" Draco started to berate himself.
"You weren't to know. This Manor has more protections on it than most houses, Draco. Were you really expecting any of your father's friends to drop by?" Harry hated to see Draco take the blame for something out of his hands.
"I guess I've managed to once again underestimate my father. Touché, Lucius," he whispered calmly, but Harry noted the disappointment in Draco's words.
"Draco," Harry looked directly at him, not willing to see him get depressed about this. "You might not have known everything he was up to, but he never won. He's not the one who is still alive and standing here. You are nothing like him – not in the least. Just remember that. I might have thought that once, Draco, but I was only a kid then, and not very knowledgeable about people. You might have lost the Manor, and perhaps you've lost the hope that there was something here in this lab, but at least now you are not in any doubt."
Draco looked over at Harry and saw the comforting words were genuine. The hint of his smile was infectious and Draco nodded. He could not express enough his gratitude for what Harry was doing, but he suddenly found himself leaning in closer to Harry. Harry's eyes sparkled as their lips met in a warm, yet tender kiss.
Harry responded eagerly, and Draco brought his hand up to cup his face. Harry did the same, his hand coming around to cup the back of Draco's neck as their kiss deepened into what became a longing embrace. This really wasn't the right place or time for this, and they both realised it, even though the kiss felt just right. He pulled back reluctantly, quietly whispering "thank you." Harry smiled, then laughed loudly as he pointed to Draco's face. Draco saw the source of Harry's amusement as the bright wandlight showed a sooty handprint on Harry's face. He realised he must look just as frightfully dirty, and joined in the moment of infectious laughter.
"It's a good look, Draco," Harry said. "I'm glad to see you smile. I know you don't think you have much to smile about. I can only imagine how gutted you must be to have found this place destroyed. I visited Godric's Hollow a few years ago. There was just grass, not even a bloody brick remained. But you don't care about that, it is ancient history." Harry admitted.
Draco could see that Harry did really have some sense of understanding of the situation. "If anything, seeing this has made me more determined to get these bastards." he pointed to the floor, "Although fortunately for us, it appears there's one less of them now."
Draco sighed heavily, stepping away reluctantly. "I'm just concerned that they always seem to be one step ahead of me. First, they embezzle me out of quite a bit of money. Then they use those galleons to fund their comeback tour and leave me being investigated by a bunch of jumped-up goblins."
"But at least you and I know you haven't done anything wrong, Draco. They can't implicate you in anything. I don't know how many times I have to say it, but you don't deserve to have this happen to you. I only wish we could find Snape."
Their conversation was interrupted as they heard Constable Towler heading down the stairs. "We're in here," Harry called. He glanced at his watch and realised how late it was. They had been there all afternoon. "It's starting to get late. I don't think there's going to be much more we can do here this evening, Draco."
Constable Towler was naturally surprised to find the starting point of the Balefire, and the body, and was only too eager to take it back to the Ministry for identification. This left Harry and Draco alone again, but Draco didn't want to remain there any longer. This shell of a room looked nothing like the lab he remembered. There was no hope that anything could have survived the Balefire – there were too many magical protections on the room. Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His last hope was now gone – if there were any Pegasus Wingtips left in the world, then they would be in the most remote and obscure place known to wizard kind. It was fruitless to think that he would ever find them, and he finally resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to be able to brew his cure. All hope faded.
But even as he realised that, he watched Harry making his way around the room, and he saw that not all hope for his future was lost. Somehow, the thought of Harry in his life was growing every day, and he saw that it was something he could look forward to instead. Even though he expressed some doubts when he spoke to Flash, his gut feeling was that Harry was just the person he had been looking for. Harry knew him almost as well as he did himself, and didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was infirm. Something was happening between them, but neither had actually said anything definite. That conversation would have to come – and soon. Draco wasn't even completely sure that Harry was even unattached. There was still enough mystery around his privacy, and that was something that worried Draco. Harry was hiding something. He would find out eventually.
Harry bent down and pulled something else out of the rubble. "Look, this appears to be undamaged," he bent down again to pick up something else, nearly dropping his wand in the process. "It looks like an old mortar… and look, here's the pestle."
Draco looked at it for a moment. The old stone mortar and pestle appeared to be completely undamaged. It was likely that it missed destruction in the Balefire, due to the fact that you never cast any spells around it. It was well known that magic usually spoiled anything that was in the process of being crushed, so the mortar and pestle was the one thing that required actual work to crush and grind any ingredient. If the object had no magic woven into it, then it was likely that it would not be destroyed. The fact that it was also made of stone might have helped save it from the flames.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure... Something..." Harry was still holding the mortar and pestle, but Draco brought his wand up to increase the light. Draco frowned as he noticed it didn't seem to have the same glassy surface as the stone walls of the lab. As he grabbed the pestle, it felt strangely warm. Something definitely wasn't right, and he tried to drop the pestle. He was unable to, and his hand unconsciously gripped the pestle even more firmly. Harry was having the same trouble trying to let go of the mortar – which was glowing the same ominous red as the pestle. A strange magic washed over him, and he gripped his wand intensely as he realised what was happening. Too late to stop the active Portkey, he felt a long forgotten tug behind his navel.
In the ensuing moments, he tumbled through nothingness, but he could still feel a hand firmly gripping his wrist. In that split second he was glad that Harry was joining him, wherever he might be going.
Harry was now eager to leave the Manor. They had seemingly found the source of the Balefire, along with a few interesting things about Lucius Malfoy. The more Harry thought about it, the more it made sense. Lucius wasn't that stupid, and the idea of having 'a spare' child was the sort of thing he would expect from a pure-blood of Lucius' generation. Harry had read enough about pure-bloods and pure-blooded families to know that there were as many children conceived out of wedlock as there were within. As long as they remained pure-blooded, most families kept it quiet, but would acknowledge the children where necessary.
He didn't think Draco would want to hang around for much longer – the ruins were depressing enough. As he was about to suggest they leave, he noticed something else in the rubble. Bending to pick it up, he noticed the familiar shape of a mortar. "Look, Draco, this appears to be undamaged." He looked around and quickly located the pestle nearby, picking it up as well.
Draco studied it for a moment, but frowned. "What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"I'm... not sure. Something..." Draco brought his lit wand up to get a closer look at it, and as Harry handed the pestle to Draco, he instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise sharply. He saw the fleeting look of panic on Draco's face, but noticed he was trying to drop the pestle. Harry found he could not drop the mortar, and the stone bowl began to glow. Harry groaned as a shudder of dark magic poured through him. Grabbing Draco's wrist with his free hand, he felt a sense of foreboding as an all too familiar tug pulled behind his navel, and he was suddenly tumbling into nothingness.
In the ensuing moments, he heard nothing but a rush of blood to the head and Draco's racing pulse as he refused to let go of this firm lifeline. Then just as suddenly, it stopped.
A sharp stench assaulted his nose and the wind whipped the glasses from his face as he felt the ground rush quickly toward him. The sharp thud as he hit earth was accompanied by a sudden crack and his head exploded in a sharp pain as all conscious thought was lost. He didn't even feel the dead weight that landed directly on top of him, pulled there by his own insistence to keep hold of Draco's hand.
Draco was surprised by the softness of his landing. He opened his eyes, but the darkness remained. He was trying to make sense of what happened but the acrid smell of bird droppings along with the echo of the surf gave him some idea of where he might be. The bitter cold and the sound of constantly dripping water hinted at his presence somewhere underground – possibly a cave. A remembered feeling in his midsection reminded him he had just been flung there by a rather violent Portkey journey.
Someone had turned the pestle into a Portkey. What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Draco found his hand was cramped from holding the now dormant pestle, which he gratefully dropped. How could a Portkey like that get into the dungeon? Who the fuck did this? Was it the dead person that put it there? Harry was holding it. Was it timed, or... His brain was too muddled from the suddenness of the trip, and the dark and gloomy cavern surroundings. His head fell back on the softness beneath him and he heard a groan. Only then did he realise that Harry was there and had broken his fall.
"Harry," Draco quickly crawled off Harry, reviving him in the process. His glasses were gone and he felt a trickle of blood as he brought Harry's head into his lap. "Damn, come on, Harry, wake up. Don't fall asleep on me now." All of Draco's senses were tingling and his heart pounded heavily. Before he could think, he had his wand out and desperately began casting some basic healing spells - aiming at the cut on the back of Harry's head. He heard another groan and in the dim wand light saw Harry's eyelids flutter open. He let go a great sigh of relief.
"Harry... Harry, are you okay?"
Harry tried to sit up, but fell back into Draco's lap. He was obviously groggy and concussed from the sudden and very violent Portkey journey. "Wha... what happened?" Harry's hand automatically went searching for his glasses.
"Lumos Maxima," Draco cast the spell to see exactly where they were. The sudden brightness made him wince, and his first suspicions were confirmed. They were indeed inside a cave.
"Accio glasses," Draco murmured and the cracked frames flew quickly into his hand. Sitting up further, he winced at a pain in his knee. Beyond that, he didn't feel any injuries. He uttered a quick Reparo spell before giving them back to Harry. He noticed Harry's pupils were a little dilated – a sure sign he was suffering a concussion.
"Someone turned the mortar and pestle into a Portkey," Draco hoped that Harry was warm enough as he felt a shiver run through him. "But I think it was a Portkey that was just meant for me. Either that, or it was timed, but you seemed to have held it without any problem. It only activated after I touched it.
Harry groaned as he tried to sit up again. Draco forced him to lie back down. "No, m'fine, or I will be. 'choo know where we are?" Draco could see Harry was trying desperately to shake his concussion, but he needed a little more time. They were both still suffering after effects from the Portkey journey.
"I have no idea where we are – a cave of some sort with an unforgettable stench."
"Oh, I thought that was Ron's socks," Harry mumbled.
Draco snickered, "I'm not surprised the Weasel's socks smell that bad, but I'm guessing it's that rather large nest over there." Draco could now clearly see a cluster of large bird nests along the wall. "We must be somewhere near the coast – I can smell the ocean. I'm guessing these nests probably belong to sea eagles."
Harry seemed to brighten somewhat as he kept his eyes open and started looking around. He sat up extremely carefully, but Draco still offered his shoulder as support. The ground in the cave was damp and rocky. Harry sat up on his own, and Draco took the opportunity to stand up – carefully. Somewhere in the journey, he had lost his cane. He hobbled over behind a series of rocks. A dim light indicated the mouth of the cave.
"I'll be just a minute," Draco told Harry.
"Be careful," Harry said worriedly. Draco carefully followed the light for a few metres and eventually saw the mouth of the cave. Walking toward it, he stopped abruptly as the path vanished. Looking out, he could see they were on the edge of a substantial cliff, and the sun was setting on the western horizon. From the nearby terrain, they must be somewhere in the far north. There was no land to the west – he could only guess they were somewhere in the Western Isles.
He was willing to bet that after all the trouble to bring him here by Portkey, he wouldn't be able to Apparate away. It would undoubtedly take a broom to get away from there.
"Draco!" Harry cried urgently. Draco rushed back, urged on by the concern in his cry. He tried not to stumble, holding his wand at the ready, but nearly dropped it in complete shock. What Draco had earlier mistaken for a rock was a wizard. He was barely alive, but Harry was now tending to him. "Quick, it's Snape," Harry urged his steps even further. Draco did not like what he saw.
"Severus? Severus, can you hear me?" He grabbed at Severus, trying desperately to feel for a pulse. A feeble groan was all he received, but there was a faint, erratic pulse. "Severus, don't you bloody well do this to me," he could barely hold his wand properly, he was shaking so badly. This was not good, and he could easily recognise the signs of too much exposure to Cruciatus.
"Ennervate," Harry muttered as he carefully aimed his wand at Snape. Draco glared at him, but said nothing. Severus was in much worse shape than Harry. As he tried to move the man into a more comfortable position, he noticed the sealed iron shackles that bound his wrists. The involuntary twitching was another sign of too much Cruciatus. Draco noticed the unconscious winces of pain as he patted down his robes, searching for his wand – or his stash of potions. Another feeble groan greeted him, and Severus' lips tried to move.
"Harry, he's dehydrated. Is there anything we can get for him?" Draco was desperately searching for any other wounds. So far it was mostly bruises and shattered nerves from the Unforgivable, but he had no way to check for any internal injuries.
"He's in bad shape, Harry. I think we got here just in time. Another dose of the Cruciatus – well, I don't think it would be pretty." Draco didn't want to contemplate that eventuality, and continued to mend the bruises as he went.
"He's going to be fine, Draco." Harry put a comforting hand on Draco's arm. "I'll collect some water."
"Are you sure you're up to that?" Draco quickly remembered Harry's concussion.
"Much better than him," he gestured at Severus. "Besides, I've had worse concussions. Just keep me quiet for a while and I'll be fine," He smiled before moving further back in the cave to look for water.
Severus' eyes fluttered momentarily and he opened his eyes, trying to focus on Draco. He was grateful for Severus' moment of consciousness. Severus tried to speak again, but his throat was parched. "Shhh, it's me, Draco. Just take it easy. Harry's getting you some water. We'll get you back to Hogwarts soon and you can start bossing Madame Pomfrey around."
He thought Severus was coughing in pain, but realised that he was attempting to laugh. The blood coughed up was not a good sign, and Draco would have given anything for a myriad of potions that could help him right now.
"Imbecile," Severus muttered. "Potter – here?"
"Yes, he is an imbecile, Severus, but someone left me a lovely present, and Harry just happened to be carrying it when I activated it."
"'Choo and Potter? Wondered when that was going to happen," talking was an effort, but Draco wondered why Severus was wasting his breath. A small part of his brain was surprised that Severus had noticed his fascination with Harry. He was only just realising it himself. He changed the subject, trying his hardest to comfort Severus. He could not break the spell binding the chains on his wrist, but he had already healed all he could of his bruises.
"What happened? You've looked better. I didn't think you'd go to such extremes to avoid Charlie. Surely he couldn't be that bad. He's fit enough..."
"Cheeky mon...key..." Severus winced and started another bout of coughing. This was so severe; Draco eventually sat him up, not looking at the blood as he helped wipe it away.
"Do you have any idea how long you've been here? Who did this to you? Is it our old friends? Why have they brought us here?" Draco fired off the questions.
"Don't... know how long. A few days. Nott... Flint... Michaels... They were planning... Malfoy Manor..." Severus was urgently trying to get out each word. Where was Harry with that water? Draco hoped his concussion hadn't got the better of him.
"Malfoy Manor is gone, Severus. They burned it to the ground with Balefire." Severus' eyes momentarily grew wide. "Barely a stone has been left standing," he snarled with spite.
"Michaels... he was... there's something you need to know about him. Their plan..."
The sudden mention of Damien Michaels rang alarm bells in Draco's mind. Things were starting to clarify and he nodded profusely. "Let me guess – he's one of Lucius' bastard sons?" Draco had never been able to put his finger on what it was about Damien Michaels. Now it was as clear as day. Despite all his dark hair, he had the shape of Lucius' face and nose, and would purse his lips in distaste exactly the same way his father did. Severus seemed surprised Draco already knew. "He's dead now." Damien Michaels had to be the dead body in the potions lab. "I just hope Lucius doesn't have any more surprises left for me." He couldn't possibly imagine any other surprises from beyond the grave, but he'd only just realised that nothing was beneath his father. There would definitely be more.
"Sorry, Draco. But... Pegasus wing... tips," Severus was desperately trying to apologise, but Draco stopped him from talking.
"It's okay, Severus, I doubt there were any in Grand-père's lab. It was completely gutted – just like the rest of the Manor. How the bloody hell Michaels managed to be powerful enough to cast Balefire, I'll never know..."
"No..." Severus tried to lift an arm to his tattered robe. "wingtips... left pocket... Look."
Draco didn't need to be prompted twice, if he understood what Severus was trying to say. He fumbled furiously to get into Severus top pocket. He eventually wrapped his fingers around a small glass vial, not believing what he saw when he brought it to the light. The glossy black feathery triangles were the most beautiful thing that Draco had ever seen. He had no idea where Severus found them. "How?"
"Had a lead... spent last few weeks trying to find them. Thought I could outsmart the Neo Death Eaters, and get them for you at the same time." Severus coughed again, and this time Draco laid him back in his lap.
"Are you crazy, Severus? You went after Neo Death Eaters alone just to get these?" Severus hadn't been taking a holiday. He had taken it upon himself to chase Neo Death Eaters in a crazy stunt to help him. It wasn't right. But he held the vial all the more tightly. He had to get Severus out of here. It was the only fitting payment for what he had done.
Severus snorted, coughing up more blood. "And had I told you, you would have been the one to go after them like a bloody Gryffindor."
"Pot calling the cauldron black, Severus." Draco was in a turmoil. Severus had done this to help him, at great personal risk, but he was right. Had Draco heard of the wingtips first, he probably would have rushed out without an ounce of planning and tried to get them. Severus had obviously put a lot of thought and planning into getting them, but somehow they were now both here, and Severus was in a critical condition.
"Did you find out who is running this show?" Draco asked, but Severus was turning pale and his breathing more ragged. "Come on, Severus, don't you bloody well do this to me now!" Draco aimed his wand and cast the strongest Enervating spell he knew. Where is Harry? Severus rallied for a moment, but the spell was broken as Draco's wand flew out of his hand.
"Expelliarmus," The disarming spell was accompanied by a mirthful snort of laughter – a laugh Draco had not heard for a long time. So caught up with Severus, Draco failed to pay attention to his surroundings. He didn't hear the others creep up behind him until his wand was taken. He never got the chance to look at his attacker as he quickly found himself thrown back against the cave wall in a full body bind. Severus was also flung about in an equally rough manner, but he was in no condition to be treated as such. As he found himself unable to move, Draco hoped Harry would have the presence of mind not to barge in and also be captured. Now was not the time for his Gryffindor recklessness.
With arms folded, their attacker walked straight up to Draco, smiling evilly at his helplessness. "Hello, Draco."
"I thought you were dead!" Draco offered in reply.
"What, no 'nice to see you again, Pansy darling'?" Pansy Parkinson pouted. "As you can see, reports of my death were slightly over-exaggerated. Did you miss me?" She dragged a perfectly manicured nail across the point of his jaw. "Sorry about the mess to bring you here, but you refused our most reasonable requests, so we had to resort to more desperate measures."
Draco snorted. "You and Flint and Nott are the Neo Death Eaters? I wouldn't have thought that the three of you could have organised a duel in a room full of wizards, let alone such elaborate plans as this." Draco was still trying to rationalise the fact that Pansy was standing before him, and claiming to be in the Neo Death Eaters. He would never have believed it. Pansy could not have hidden herself away if she tried. She was incapable of keeping a low profile. No doubt she was sent by the head of the Neo Death Eaters as someone familiar to Draco. Still, it rattled him to think they had managed to capture him.
Pansy laughed shrilly. "You really have no idea, do you?"
"Subtlety was never your strong suit was it, Pansy?" He sneered back at her. "You can tell whoever is in charge, that I have no intention of changing my allegiances. I made a conscious decision all those years ago, and I stick by my friends, and my beliefs."
"Notably admirable sentiments, Draco. But I think you can tell him yourself. "Boys!" Pansy called, her voice echoing loudly in the cave. She found it difficult to wipe the smirk off her face as a dozen armed wizards suddenly Apparated into the cave. Faces of ghosts from the past confronted him, and for the first time he began to worry. Dolohov, McNair, Troughton and Hardwicke were just a few of the familiar faces alongside Flint and Nott. All of them had gone missing after Voldemort's defeat, but somehow he knew he would face them again.
He would have been shocked to see them following Pansy's authority without question if the last wizard had not stepped out from the shadows behind her, his silver buttons gleaming as he doffed his gloves. He looked up to gaze directly at Draco.
"Hello, Son."
Draco was utterly speechless. Lucius Malfoy, alive and breathing, stood before him."Oh no. This isn't possible," he eventually blurted out. "I don't... I saw your body. I made sure you were dead!" Draco wanted to break away from the body bind, but even if he did, there were a half dozen wizards with their wands aimed in his direction. He could feel the fear hammering away in his chest at the sight of Lucius Malfoy standing there with a wry smile on his face.
"Lucius darling, Draco tells me he has no intention of changing his allegiances," Pansy repeated Draco's words, but did not once take her eyes off Draco. She seemed to be enjoying his reaction at the sight of his father. "I think, Lucius, we just have to provide the right... persuasion." She stood nose to nose with him, crushing the tip of her wand into his throat. Draco didn't even blink at her blatant threat, and she raised an eyebrow. Running the tip of the wand down his throat, she stopped just short of his crotch and repeated her threatening gesture. "You know, I could make it worth your while... if you change your mind." She tried to sound seductive, but Draco was disgusted. Unable to defend himself in any other way, he spat, hitting her directly in the eye.
She stepped back, angered by his audacity. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" she offered in her high pitched whine. "I could have helped you, you know. Lucius indulged me by allowing me to offer you one more chance. Looks like you blew it. What a shame. I was so looking forward to other things. Crucio!"
She casually flicked her wand, and Draco gritted his teeth as he prepared for the curse. Oh Harry, I hope you don't have to see this.
Harry was still a little groggy from his concussion, but he listened carefully as he wandered far into the back of the cave. He eventually found some water dripping down from the roof of the cave. He tested it first, and it tasted fine. Transfiguring a rock into a small cup, he waited as the water slowly dripped down. Snape wasn't his favourite person in the world, but he was extremely important to Draco, and someone had been using him for target practice. Harry had no doubt they had stumbled into some sort of trap set up by the Neo Death Eaters. How else would a Portkey become suddenly active in the middle of a burned out ruin?
As his mind cleared, he realised the urgency in getting back to Snape with the water, and he became frustrated at the slowly filling cup. A throbbing headache ripped from the back of his head through to his scar, and he distinctly heard a shrill feminine laugh.
His senses suddenly came on to full alert, and he quietly made his way back to the main cavern. The closer he got, the louder the voices, and he gripped his wand more firmly. Harry took a series of deep breaths to find his centre, pushing aside the pain. It would not pay to let his anger get the better of him now. As he hid behind the large crop of standing stones in the main cavern, he could see that a half dozen of them had Draco and Snape pinned to the wall in body binds. For a moment, he could have sworn the female was Bellatrix Lestrange, but he had killed Bellatrix with his own bare hands. Upon closer inspection, he recognised Pansy Parkinson. I thought she was dead. But he got the shock of his life when he saw the tall wizard beside her reveal himself as Lucius Malfoy.
Harry's reaction mirrored Draco's, and he nearly stumbled. It wasn't possible. Lucius was quite dead. Harry had made certain of that. Edging his way around the back of the cave, he tried hard not to disturb any of the loose rocks on the floor.
It was frustrating to just stand there and watch. He had to do something. Draco and Snape were entirely outnumbered – and unarmed. Merlin, even with him, they were outnumbered. But he still had the advantage of surprise as he stepped back into the shadows.
He had to physically stop himself from cursing Pansy as she cast the Cruciatus on Draco. His instincts were quite protective. It took every ounce of his willpower to stay there, but she stopped just as soon as she started. The look of pain on Draco's face tore at Harry. His eyes continually returned to the sight of Lucius Malfoy. Something just wasn't quite right, but Harry couldn't put his finger on what it was.
Unfortunately, Draco worked it out – the hard way.
Draco's heart muscles and nerve endings were crying out in long remembered pain. It had been many years since he had been under Cruciatus, but it didn't get any easier. Pansy folded her arms and watched Draco's agony in morbid fascination. The constriction of the body bind was not helping his muscles, as they wanted to twitch and spasm. She released the bind in a moment of sympathy, and he found himself suddenly sprawled on the floor. Gathering his wits, he dared to glance over at Severus, who was still strung up - unconscious. It was doubtful that he would survive another bout of such a curse. He scanned the room for any sign of Harry, but saw nothing. He hoped the former war hero had the presence of mind not to just jump out and start AK'ing everyone on the spot. That's if he wasn't lying unconscious at the back of the cave.
Slightly weakened from the Unforgivable curse, his knee was crying out more painfully than it had in years. Glancing up, he dared to look straight at his father, who was looking down at him in bitter disappointment. "Actually, I think you'll find he needs a little more persuading that that, my dear." Lucius cocked his head to the side, studying his son. "All that time he was pretending to be loyal to our cause. Quite the convincing act you had, Son, but not nearly as good as Severus. The problem, my dear, is that you really don't want to see him get hurt." He mocked Draco as he spoke. "Stand back, Pansy dear - this could get quite messy."
Within an instant, Lucius had drawn his wand and showed no remorse as he hit Draco with another Cruciatus curse. He held it for much longer than the last; Draco's frayed nerves singing and writhing with indescribable pain. His teeth were clenched so tightly he could not have forced out a scream had he tried. He wasn't going to give his father the satisfaction of hearing his pain.
Harry had to hold himself back as he watched Draco suffer yet again under the curse. As Lucius eventually stopped, Draco fought for breath. Harry stopped himself from hexing Lucius as he quickly realised that the ragged breathing was actually laughter. "Nice try, Pansy. I'll give you credit – he had me fooled for a bit. But there's no way that you are Lucius." Lucius seemed affronted by Draco's words, and the other Neo Death Eaters in the ring raised their wands again to point at Draco.
"You see, you might look like him, but I have felt my father's wrath under the Cruciatus curse many times, and that wasn't even close to the mildest dose I received as a child. You'll have to try harder than that. Besides, if you're going to use Polyjuice Potion, then I suggest that you don't try it in front of a couple of Potions masters who have a nose for such things." Draco tapped the side of his nose knowingly as he saw Pansy's jaw drop in surprise. "And he reeks of it. Who have you got under there, Pansy? Of course, I know you're really Pansy – I doubt anyone could get just the right level of whine in their voice."
Pansy was livid and the impostor of Lucius was trying hard to keep his calm. "You might think you were cleverer than all of us, but I'm not the one who was too caught up his own arse to realise that he was being embezzled. Quite clever of us, really. Did you honestly expect us to just run away with our tails between our legs and hide forever? Your father taught me a great many things before he was killed. You don't know how long I've waited to see you again, Draco."
"You barely knew my father, Pansy," Draco replied, but judging from the broad grins from a few of the wizards in the circle, he had obviously missed out on the latest news.
"For such a successful spy, you can be quite dense at times, Draco, particularly when you are so blind to what is right in front of your face! It seems that you didn't manage to learn everything once your father chose to keep you out of the loop." From where he stood Harry could see the madness in her eyes. He waited carefully, eyeing his surroundings, but never losing sight of Draco's safety.
"I tried to tell him that you were the spy, but he didn't want to believe me, at first. He was sure that Snape was the spy, but he could never prove it. That frustrated him no end. Then suddenly, news of our raids started to leak to the Order, and I suggested he look to you as a possible source of leaked information. You don't know how furious he was to learn that his son was a traitor. It was nearly as bad as learning that you were queer."
Draco snorted in his own laughter. He was still curious as to the identity of the wizard pretending to be Lucius, and it seemed Pansy wasn't going to volunteer. It was most disconcerting, as he knew it really wasn't his father, and that was all that mattered. He was beginning to see a frightening pattern here, and he needed more information. If he could distract Pansy long enough. "But that shouldn't have bothered him – after all – he did have at least one other son he knew about."
"Ooh, bravo, you finally worked something out on your own," the fake Lucius drawled. It was more than disconcerting to hear that drawl after such an absence, but Draco doubted a day would go by that he could ever forget his father's voice.
"Indulge me if you will. Who was Damien Michael's mother?"
"Something you still haven't guessed? I'm not surprised," Pansy sneered in disgust. "Just in case you need me to spell it out, he was my half-brother. Isn't it ironic that you fucked both of my brothers, yet you spurned me?" she spat bitterly.
Draco just blinked. Phillip Parkinson had been his lover during the war, but he knew from the outset it was never anything more than a mere convenience. Draco got information, and a good hard fuck every now and then, and Phillip got his chance to rise through the ranks of the Death Eaters – thanks to his connection to Malfoy.
But it made him sick to his stomach to remember those long forgotten post Quidditch match celebrations. Many things had happened between the team members, but he knew he never fucked Damien. The boy might have been a natural tease, and Draco may have encouraged him to hone his talents in other areas, but he always drew the line at fucking. Damien had obviously exaggerated the truth. He certainly had made it clear to Draco when he came back to Hogwarts that he was keen to take up such a relationship. Draco shuddered at the thought. Perhaps madness was a trait inherent in all the Parkinsons.
Pansy was quite insane, and he hoped that Harry was lurking somewhere in the shadows, for he really wanted to lunge out and strangle her. Seeing the murderous intent in his face, she conveniently reminded him that she was in possession of his wand. In the absence of a wand, he used words as his weapons. "Phillip was nothing more than a convenient fuck, Pansy. It was good while it lasted. He meant less to me than you ever did. I'm not sorry I killed him, you know. "
Pansy's face darkened in more fury, and she struck him with another bout of the Cruciatus curse. The thing about Cruciatus pain was that it was consistent, and intense, but once it struck, it never actually got any worse. It would reach a threshold, but not intensify any further. He had learned many years before to increase his pain tolerance, but his cursed knee was not coming to the party. Pansy smiled icily as he cried out for the first time under the curse.
"Rumour had it that you fancied yourself in love with Phillip," she retorted. "How un-Slytherin of you – thinking with your heart and not your head. Still, it helped Lucius to further his own plans. Phillip was only too happy to help uncover the spy, so he played along willingly. I don't doubt he had a little fun along the way. But you were just a bit too sneaky, and we could never pin anything on you." She turned to look at the fake Lucius; madness showing clearly on her face.
"Lucius desperately wanted you to share in the destiny he originally built for you. He had grand plans, Draco. Don't you want to share in that? We've got so many things – things you could never imagine. Your father had kept a library of spells that was unparalleled, and he was wise to keep it away from Voldemort."
Draco reverted to his oldest mask, his cold and nonchalant arrogance coming to the fore. He could not let her see that she was getting to him. "You know, this whole thing does seem to stink like a plot Lucius would think up. I congratulate you for your elaborate method of getting me here, but why don't you tell me what you are so generously offering?" he retorted casually, stalling for time. Harry had to be around somewhere. Severus groaned and started coughing, and Draco turned in concern. "Of course," he continued, "You'll have to start from the beginning – you see, I'm not so good at seeing details that are right before my eyes. At least if you tell me everything, I'll be able to make a thoroughly informed decision." That should buy him enough time.
Pansy relaxed somewhat, smiling in an obscene way. Draco knew he had placated her in some small way. "Why don't you start by telling me just where you vanished to during the war? You seem to know so much about Lucius' plans, yet everyone, even your brother, Phillip, thought you were dead."
"Ah, yes, my dear departed brother Phillip. Such a loss," her words sounded anything but upset at her older brother's demise. Before he could move into a more comfortable position, Pansy quickly cast another body bind on him. "Oh how I do love a captive audience. I know you don't have anywhere to run to, Draco, but I think it best to be cautious. Now where were we? Oh, Phillip. Yes, he was actually put in place to keep you from getting suspicious about your father's plans, then of course, you fancied yourself in love with him, which Lucius used to his own advantage."
Draco was keeping a close eye on his wand as Pansy seemed to be fondling it lovingly. He realised where he had seen that look in Pansy's eye. It was the same glint of insanity that had affected his aunt Bellatrix. Very few women became Death Eaters and could still manage to escape the touch of madness that entered their minds as they took the Dark Mark. He would never have guessed that Pansy would remain strong enough to survive this long.
When the Dark Mark vanished upon Voldemort's death, many of the remaining Death Eaters went mad. The magic that withdrew the mark from their arms drained them of sanity. It was one of the reasons why the Aurors didn't go out and try to find the missing Death Eaters immediately. Severus had been furious. He knew that those with a strong presence of mind would be able to survive. These Neo Death Eaters were proof of that. Pansy was somehow slipping slowly into her own insanity.
Pansy's smug look showed great pleasure. "Haven't you worked it out yet, Draco? I know you heard the rumours. Phillip made sure of that. We were busy, and I helped him from behind the scenes to help those plans come to fruition. Lucius knew the war was going badly, so he was making sure that no matter who won, he would come out unscathed and with more power than the ultimate winner. Still, all our plans were ruined. I know it was you who sold Lucius out, even if you didn't cast the killing curse on him."
"Lucius kept you hidden... You... you were the mysterious mistress? You?" Pansy nodded smugly at Draco's disbelief.
Back behind the stones, Harry's jaw fell directly to the floor as well. Pansy Parkinson was Lucius Malfoy's mistress? Incredible!
"Mistress... lover... wife... call me what you will," Draco was not believing what he heard. Surely this was just some manifestation of her own imagination? But this whole thing has Lucius' name stamped all over it. "For what it was worth, I loved him, Draco. Do you see now why I want you to come and help run your father's legacy?" Her voice had dropped and became quite seductive. Unfortunately, Draco wanted nothing to do with her – he never had. "Perhaps, we could be more than just... partners."
Her lips were mere centimetres away from his, and he looked away in complete disgust. She roughly pulled his face back to hers, kissing him firmly. His reaction was cold and dead. She stopped, her fury rising as she slapped him hard across the face. He was beginning to wonder if he might have underestimated her.
"I never understood what you saw in that bint, Queenie. She couldn't offer you half of what I could." Her pug-like face was screwed up bitterly.
"You're not still harping on about Daphne, are you? Why are you still hung up about her?" Draco could not believe she was still bitter about Daphne Greengrass. He was still trying to contemplate that idea that Pansy was one of his father's mistresses. It seemed ludicrous.
Pansy moved in closer – too close for Draco's liking – and smirked, before pulling Draco up violently by the hair to bring him in for a deep kiss. In his disgust, he bit her savagely on the lip, forcing her to break away. "What part of 'I never wanted to go out with you' didn't you understand?" He spat. "Sorry, I haven't changed my mind in the meantime. You're... not quite my type."
"You understand I just had to try just once more, for old time's sake," she taunted smoothly, her mouth barely twitching into a hard line. Pansy's eyes narrowed, and Draco could see he had hit a raw note.
"There never was anything, Pansy. I don't know what delusion you've been living under, but we've never been together." Pansy opened her mouth to argue, but Draco continued, "One date to a Yule Ball when we were fourteen does not indicate any sort of former relationship. Besides, if memory serves, you only asked me to go because you were afraid that Daphne was going to ask me first."
She folded her arms and nodded, laughing shrilly. "Poor old Daphne." Draco could hear the mocking tone in her voice. He knew how much the pair had despised each other, but he had never seen the vehemence with which Pansy had spoken her name.
"I don't understand why you despised her so much, Pansy. The only reason she disliked you was because you constantly tried to throw yourself at me, and you never listened to her. Even so, I never once heard her speak unkindly of you in front of me. Her manners were impeccable." Draco snorted, "I guess she was more of a woman than you'll ever be. Not hard to see why I chose her, is it, really?" He couldn't believe the vehemence of his words. It had been a long time since he had been forced to think about Daphne, but seeing Pansy and talking about her brought long hidden emotions to the fore. "I... I loved Daphne." It had been hard to say it, and it hurt like hell. A long hidden part of his heart was being wrenched open.
Harry's heart wrenched open in sympathy as he listened. Draco had truly been in love, and perhaps he could have led a fairly ordinary aristocratic existence if there had been no war. It truly showed that Draco had the capacity to love fully and deeply. Knowing some of this from his journal conversations made it all the more poignant. He stepped back into the shadow just as one of the Neo Death Eaters turned to look in his direction. In the darkness, Harry lost sight of Draco. He fervently wished at that moment for his Invisibility Cloak, but an even better idea presented itself. The adrenalin coursing through him had pushed his concussion well away, and he felt he could handle some magic.
He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, the cold trickle running down his neck feeling like water dripping from the roof of the cave. Putting his hand against the wall, he noticed the faint ripple of his camouflage against the sparkly reflection coming from the cave walls. The flecks of bright stone reflecting what little light there was seemed familiar, but Harry couldn't put his finger on what they were. Harry wandered out from the protection of the stones, confident his invisibility would help, but he stuck close to the walls of the cave.
"But you were MINE!" Pansy turned and shouted at Draco. He was stunned. He had rejected Pansy's advances outright all those years ago, but she seemed to have read much more into them. She really was delusional. He had never given Pansy any reason to think that he liked or wanted her. A hollow feeling began to well in his stomach at the memory of Daphne, and the grizzly sight of her dead body (the first of many that he had to witness). It had seemed an entire lifetime ago, but only now could he appreciate that she was lucky to have not had to suffer through the horror of the war.
All of a sudden Pansy became calm, turning and asking in a rational voice. "What was it that you saw in Daphne? I could never understand it. It's not like she was anything special." Pansy seemed to have forgotten about everyone else in the cave, but the question struck a chord and Draco defended his first love.
Draco snorted in laughter. It would be a very long list of things that had drawn him to Daphne. Where did he start? "Perhaps I was sick and tired of most girls and their hidden agendas. Mother had warned me about girls who would only be interested in me for my name, or my money, or my connections. It was refreshing to have someone who was just interested in me alone. I don't think Daphne would have cared if I was as poor as Weasley, she would have still loved me." It had been so long since he consciously thought of Daphne, and a sudden flood of memories attempted to overwhelm him. He was finding it hard to recall her face, and that hurt more than anything. Having to talk about that her in front of Harry wasn't making him feel very comfortable. He only hoped that Harry might understand.
"She was weak, Draco - too weak to be aligned with you. Her blood would have not helped the Malfoy clan."
"That wasn't weakness; that was innocence. I didn't want her involved in that stupid war. I was willing to give her the world, but I couldn't do that. I couldn't even stop her from being killed. She didn't deserve to die. Daphne was harmless. She had no enemies." But only now could he see that he had been sadly mistaken.
"Oh, but she did, and she was no innocent, Draco dearest. She made two fatal mistakes. Her first was how easily she wheedled her way into your affections—"
Draco snorted, "If you had paid any attention to more than your own preening, you might have noticed that I asked her out, not the other way round."
Pansy was not finished. "And her second mistake was thinking she could take what was mine. She flatly refused to become a Death Eater you know. I couldn't believe her audacity. She didn't even bother to think about the wondrous opportunities. She just said no."
Draco never knew that Daphne had been confronted to join the Death Eaters, but knowing she refused outright just confirmed how strong she truly was – very few people were strong enough to do that. "You're deluded if you think I ever wanted you, Pansy." Somehow the message seemed to finally be sinking in as Pansy quivered in furious denial.
"She took you away from me, and I needed to teach her a lesson," Pansy's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, but the words still seemed loud as they echoed through the cave. "So I killed her." The admission came so suddenly, Draco was completely stunned. He looked away. Somehow it made perfect sense. Pansy was unhinged enough to do it. Of course, hearing the truth now didn't help.
Overhearing the admission of guilt, Harry nodded his head silently. He had always suspected Pansy as having a fairly strong motive to commit the crime, but the headmaster had dismissed his suggestion at the time. Harry's anti Slytherin bias was well known, and there was just no evidence to convict anyone. It had eventually been blamed on a Death Eater attack, which really was the truth. Now they knew which Death Eater had pointed her wand and cast the killing curse.
Draco just stood in shock from Pansy's confession. Why hadn't he suspected Pansy before now? Because she had a perfect alibi, that was why. It was all starting to come back and make horrible sense. Pansy continued in Draco's silence. "Your father and my mother had arranged for us to marry, Draco. It was my birthright, and she was going to take that away!" She decided to cut Draco down even further. "Although, she did beg for her life in the end. I doubt she would have made a good Death Eater. She grovelled and pleaded like a Muggle, but I still killed her. I thought you would have turned to me – I could have comforted you in your time of despair." Pansy pleaded.
Draco closed his eyes to avoid the unbidden tears that were forming. He didn't want to hear any more. His grand plans to keep Daphne away from the Death Eaters had failed because of Pansy's jealousy. All the repressed and long forgotten memories came back to the fore, and he found it hard to keep his composure.
"It's quite obvious to see now why Lucius often invited the lonely widow Parkinson over for dinner," he smirked. "But mother wasn't stupid – she would not have allowed any marriage arranged for me. Don't presume to think she didn't know about Lucius' affairs. Mother was thrilled that I was in love with Daphne..." If he said any more, he would probably lose his composure, but he knew he needed to keep his wits about him. How in the name of Merlin were they going to get out of this mess? He took a few deep breaths and prayed that Harry was not lying unconscious somewhere in the back of the cave.
"And they were both weak willed women," Pansy crowed triumphantly, seemingly aware of Draco's flagging spirits. "Lucius only married Narcissa to appease his family. He really wanted to marry my mother, but your Grandfather forbade it. Lucius understood the need to bring the Black and Malfoy houses together - their blood had not mingled for over five generations, so he gave in and married your mother. Marriage is for improving pure-blood ties, as well as political ones, and our children would have been magnificent and powerful wizards! Couldn't you see that the Greengrass family had no breeding? Did you ever bother to research how many squibs they've produced in the last century? Did you realise they made their money on Muggle investments?"
Draco had heard endless lectures on blood purity as a child, but it had been a long time since he heard someone so vehement about keeping the pure-blood wizards utterly pure. Her words were almost a direct echo of his father's.
"So when did you become so chummy with Lucius, anyway?" Draco needed to regain his focus. He needed to bring the conversation back to Pansy, as she was always keen to talk about herself. He had not forgotten the other Neo Death Eaters in the cave. There were two specifically guarding Severus, but everyone listened on in awe as Pansy spoke. He noticed the look of unswerving loyalty on their faces as they watched her, and it struck him at that moment that Pansy really was in charge of them.
Pansy seemed pleased that Draco was suddenly taking an interest in her again. "Oh, I went to talk to him when we were still in school. I wanted to express my concerns about Daphne, and how she was influencing you. Lucius was so impressed by my single-minded determination. It was his suggestion to get rid of Daphne, for she was the only obstacle to my becoming the next Mrs Malfoy." Her face suddenly grew dark again. "Of course, you certainly ruined everything when I'd heard from Damien that you had started shagging boys. I couldn't believe it. I went to Lucius and told him –"
"So that's how he found out?" Draco always wondered just when his father learned of his bisexuality. As he turned to check on Severus, he noticed his worsening colour. Time was running out – he had to get Severus to a medi-wizard. If only I could distract Pansy long enough to get my wand...
"... So when that happened, I turned to Lucius and it occurred to me that I was perhaps seeking out the wrong Malfoy." Her smile was dreamy. Draco knew Pansy had been ambitious, but chasing after Lucius Malfoy was something he would never have guessed she would be capable of. "After all, he always had a rather absurd fascination for my mother – Damien was always such a good little boy – I will miss him." The fact her thoughts were skipping from one thing to another was just another sign of her madness.
The thought was interrupted as the Polyjuiced Lucius cried out in pain, his fingers digging in to the skin of his face. Draco had been expecting this for a while – another reason he was stalling for time. A moment later, a tall, dark haired wizard stood in place, not looking at all uncomfortable in Lucius' robes. The sneer plastered on his face was identical to the one he wore as Lucius, but Draco was still shocked as he realised that Phillip Parkinson was not as dead as first suspected. He remembered casting the Avada Kedavra that struck Phillip. It was a vividly clear memory. He was so busy casting the killing curse as he tried to escape, he didn't see the curse that struck him directly in the knee. Aboleo Adesum.
"Phillip..." This man couldn't be an impostor. Nobody under the influence of Polyjuice could imitate someone else, and glamour charms were useless until the last remnants of Polyjuice were out of his system. "I'd say it was a pleasure to see you again, but you know it isn't." Draco was trying to keep the shock out of his voice. This changed the stakes and made him feel uneasy. Phillip was much more powerful than Pansy, but he didn't have the same madness in his eyes – just calm, icy fury.
Harry was as equally stunned. He also realised the escalated danger, for it was well known that Phillip Parkinson had been one of the more dangerous younger Death Eaters. Harry had actually wanted to congratulate Draco after the war when he heard that he had killed him, but it was obvious now that Polyjuice was something Phillip enjoyed using. Still, there was something about this cave that made Harry uneasy, and he was becoming more concerned by the minute. Suddenly, he realised what it was, and he moved swiftly away from the circle to head to the cave entrance. It pained him having to leave Draco alone, but with all eyes and ears hopefully paying attention elsewhere, he could get a message out. It was their only chance. Even Harry knew they were outnumbered.
"Draco," Phillip's voice was still a little raspy, and Draco noticed a rather prominent scar running from his jaw, down to his throat. "I apologise for my little sister's sense of theatrics. She thought it would be fun if I could scare you. I just wanted to kill you, but it was her idea to get her hands on your fortune. It really should have been hers, by rights. Pansy was going to marry your father after your mother's untimely death. But of course, his death was even more untimely." Draco bristled at the reference to his mother, and he had an awful feeling he was soon going to hear an admission to her murder.
"I should have realised it was you under the Polyjuice. All those conversations – you told me you were fascinated by Potions, but you were just using me to get information, weren't you? Why do I regret not waiting around to see that the person I killed really wasn't you?"
Phillip grinned evilly. "Congratulations, you've finally figured it all out. You and Severus wondered how you escaped so easily when Voldemort fell? We let you go. Those you thought you were killing when you were trying to escape were just a bunch of our prisoners who we Polyjuiced and Imperioed. If you had truly worn the Dark Mark, you would have realised that the Dark Lord's power was waning. But you went on, oblivious to it all. The other members of the enclave decided it would be prudent to cut our losses and run. Polyjuicing the prisoners was just a little parting gift."
Draco was shocked. He had killed prisoners who had been Polyjuiced to look like Death eaters. Of all the atrocities he witnessed during the war, this had to be the worst. "They were Order members!" Draco couldn't believe it. He didn't want to think any further about the ramifications, but he knew it was entirely possible.
"It was such fun to watch you run," Phillip laughed as he saw the play of emotions across Draco's face.
Draco hated being left in the dark. It seemed he was the victim of something much grander than he originally anticipated. He was so sure of himself, and now, he realised that they knew all along that he was a spy.
Of course, it was making sense. Phillip's sudden interest in him; his insistence that Draco stay close to him and within his circle of influence. He charmed Draco with sex and the odd stream of meaningful information that would make him feel important to the Order. He should have listened to Severus when he was warned not to get too close to Phillip. Draco didn't like being played for a fool.
"If it's any consolation, pet, you did a very good job." Phillip smirked. "For quite a while I wasn't sure if you really were the spy. Pity that you talk in your sleep, though." He came up and pulled Draco up by the hair, staring deep into his eyes. Once, Draco might have felt something for this man, but now he couldn't find enough to even warrant spitting on him. For now he finally realised just who it was who cast the Aboleo Adesum curse on him.
Draco scoffed, "So when I was running for my life, you were enjoying yourself. You wanted one final play before the end of the war. Did you enjoy watching all those prisoners die whilst under Imperio? Did you get off on casting the Aboleo Adesum at me?" Draco looked down at his knee. "What a pity you missed. I bet it must eat away at you to know that you didn't quite hit me in the intended spot. Don't worry, I know all there is to know about Aboleo Adesum. Had plenty of time to look it up. You really should have aimed it at my spinal column – that would have made for a much more painful and certain death."
Phillip pursed his lips. Draco could see he had angered his former lover by the way his knuckles had turned white around the grip of his wand. "Pansy, just do it. I'm sick of listening to him. He's not going to change his mind and join us. He's a bog filthy traitor, just like Snape."
Pansy was smiling evilly after listening to the exchange between her brother and Draco. She totally ignored her brother as she began to circle Draco, who was standing, but still held in the body bind. His knee was protesting bitterly under the strain, but he had more important things on his mind other than the pain. It seemed that Pansy still had more to say to Draco.
"Lucius was a grand lover, Draco. What a pity you won't allow me the opportunity to make a comparison." She sighed. "Such a shame. Still, I gave Lucius everything. We loved and laughed and cried together. Your father was such a passionate man – so giving. I gave him everything Narcissa couldn't, you realise. I showed him a strong woman, one who was true to our Lord's cause. Your mother was frigid and useless." Draco missed the twinkle of madness in her eye as she turned to look at Phillip. "Lucius was only too pleased when I went to him with a plan to dispose of your mother."
Draco glared at her furiously. "You didn't..."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Draco darling. I'm afraid it's true. Not only did I kill your precious girlfriend, but I had to get rid of Narcissa. After all, she was the one thing that was still in the way of my becoming Mrs Malfoy. Lucius was all for it. We were going to have children - a strong true heir who would carry the Malfoy name to greatness! Narcissa was in the way, so I planned to get rid of her. It seemed all too easy. But then when that Potter killed Lucius..." Pansy was mad with her admissions. "Well, I had to follow through with the plans, even though my dear Lucius had been cruelly taken from me."
Draco was raging on the inside. How could Pansy just stand there and casually admit to two murders? She was as mad as his aunt Bellatrix, and possibly just as dangerous. He wanted to strangle Pansy with her own hair then hex her with every Unforgivable in his repertoire. He certainly had built up enough hate to cast them properly.
Without a wand, he struck her with words instead. He had nothing to lose now. He had lost hope that Harry was going to help. He must have collapsed, or been caught by others he had not seen. "Is this why you did it all? Because you felt you were scorned? First Daphne, then Mother, now you're telling me that you have set up this little motley crew of second rate wizards just purely to spite me because my father is dead and you couldn't get your hands on his money?"
Pansy aimed her wand at Draco, and was ready to cast a curse, when Phillip forced her to lower he wand. "You know we can't do that here – the cave." He looked around at the walls, worried about something. A soft hissing sound came from the opposite side of the cave, and the worried look on Phillip's face grew. "What was that?" he asked in panic.
The hairs on the back of Draco's neck rose as a cool breath of air tickled his senses. He heard an almost inaudible "Finite Incantatum", and a warm hand lay on the small of his back as he felt the body bind melt away. He tried to look neutral as he felt complete relief at Harry's presence. He forgot himself for just a moment. "Harry?"
Phillip turned sharply to look at Draco. "Oh, so you think your precious Potter is going to come and rescue you?" He laughed aloud, but was still concerned by the sound. "Have you turned so far away from your heritage that now you're waiting to be rescued by a reckless Gryffindor? There once was a time when you would have cursed Potter rather than accept his help. You've changed, Draco Malfoy."
"No, actually, I haven't changed. I've just grown up into the man I was meant to be." Draco felt a little buoyed and confident by the fact that he knew Harry was there – most likely under the cover of a disillusionment. He very faintly heard a whisper from Harry, "Keep them talking..."
Both Pansy and Phillip laughed, causing the others to smile. "Yes, a man who is predictable, gullible and petulant when he doesn't get his own way. It must really hurt to know that you've lost so much money, and your Manor." Phillip taunted Draco.
"You know, none of that really matters. So what if I'm petulant, Pansy, you're the one who has spent years trying to get back at me because I chose the much better girl to be my fiancée." He suddenly realised that it didn't matter at all about Malfoy Manor, or the money. He just wanted to get Severus and Harry and get out of there. He wondered what Harry was up to, and dared to glance in Severus' direction again. They heard that noise again, and Phillip sent Flint and Nott to go and investigate.
Seeing Draco's concerned look in Severus' direction, Pansy tilted her head, and two burly Neo Death Eaters walked over and grabbed the unconscious man. He closed his eyes; he didn't want to see what they were planning to do. They took the full body bind off Severus and threw him at Phillip's feet. Draco's breath stopped momentarily and he winced at the resounding crack as Severus' head hit the stone floor. He was glad that he was unconscious. Death would be less painful that way.
He pretended to struggle in his body bind, which made Pansy smirk. "Ooh, I do like to see you squirm. I wonder," she asked curiously, "will you beg as prettily as your old girlfriend?" Her long red painted talons curled menacingly around the grip of her wand as she aimed squarely at Draco. He stood defiant, not giving her any satisfaction. "What? No begging?"
"Malfoys don't beg," he retorted smugly. A sudden cry broke out from the direction of where Nott and Flint just went. A few of the wizards in the circle broke off to investigate. "Wait!" Phillip cried, but in the resulting confusion, they found themselves wandless. "Expelliarmus Maxima!" Harry cried, sending all the Neo Death Eater's wands clattering against the wall before falling to the darkened ground. Without the extra light from their wands, the cave was suddenly plunged into darkness.
Pansy cried out in frustration and Draco took a defensive stance. He flinched at the feeling of a hand on his arm, but he realised who it was when the familiar weight and warmth of his own wand rested in his hand. The diversion only bought them a couple of minutes, as almost instantly, everyone was calling for their wands. "Accio!"
Draco grabbed Severus and dragged him back against some stones. In the ensuing moment of panic, Harry managed to down one Neo Death Eater with a stunner, and two more from the circle were dazed as they found themselves cracking skulls. Phillip was one of the first to regain his wand, and reset some light.
Harry must have still been under the disillusionment, for Draco could not see him, but he watched as two of the Neo Death Eaters banged heads violently. Draco made the mistake of keeping his eye on Pansy, desperately casting spells to keep her from picking up her wand. Unfortunately, Phillip was not so distracted, and quickly shot a stunner in the direction of where he guessed Harry to be.
"Oof," Draco heard Harry exclaim as he was knocked back against the wall. Phillip cast and Anti-disillusionment field, shattering Harry's disguise. Pansy was laughing shrilly.
"Ohh, look! Potter really has come to rescue them!" Draco didn't give her time to get started, casting a stunner in her direction. She quickly moved, but the spell rebounded off the wall, striking her across the arm. She fell. He quickly found himself the target of crossfire, and attempted to raise a personal shield. Things started to go downhill very quickly when he realised his 'Protego' spell did not work. He didn't have time to wonder why, but attempted to raise it again, but Harry quickly saw his confusion. He was quickly covering Draco's back.
"It's the rock – there's something in the granite. One of those rocks that's full of old earthly magic – you know, the sort that doesn't agree with wizarding magic! We're just going to have to do this without any shields!" He was bloody and bruised from hitting the wall, but held a grin as he looked at Draco. "Still, it means that they don't have any shields either. It should make things interesting."
"Be careful," Draco wanted to say much more, but Harry nodded in understanding. They were dreadfully outnumbered, and everyone was beginning to return to their feet. In such close quarters, spells were dangerously rebounding off walls, making everyone extra careful of what they were casting. In the absence of shields, nobody wanted to be struck by a rebounding Avada Kedavra.
Draco noticed someone eyeing off Severus' still form. He had not stirred in the longest time, and Draco cast a well aimed Stunner to draw any spells away from that direction. He still ached all over from the earlier Cruciatus, but he didn't have the luxury of rest. The adrenalin was pumping from the sheer physicality of ducking and weaving to avoid the spells aimed in his direction. Without shields, it was their only defence.
He would not dismiss these Neo Death Eaters – they were well trained, and extremely well versed in a variety of attacking spells. Their cautiousness just showed that they were not reckless. From what he was experiencing, he could see that his money had been spent wisely with a great emphasis put on their training. Harry seemed to be relishing the multiple duels, and Phillip turned his interest in Harry's direction. Harry seemed to invite the attention – shooting numerous Stunners in their direction.
Almost taken by surprise as he was struck in the shoulder by a stunner, Draco retaliated by shooting an Avada Kedavra at Hardwicke. He had a perfect aim, and knew he wouldn't miss. He didn't expect Troughton to leap out of the way of another curse, struck dead in the crossfire. Draco realised then that he had to be more careful.
As he turned to face Harry, he met his gaze, and he smiled warmly at Draco. With that one gesture, Draco felt safe and secure – knowing everything was going to be all right. Somehow, he just had a gut feeling it would be fine.
The duels suddenly stopped as a group of wizards suddenly appeared in the middle of the cave. Their silent arrival indicated a Portkey. Before Draco could cast a wand on any of them, he recognised the Auror robes, and saw the even bigger smile on Harry's face. Harry yelled out to them, quickly explaining the situation about having no protections.
As the numbers evened out, a momentary lapse of concentration saw Pansy strike Draco, slicing open his arm. He cried out in anger, and he threw a vicious hex in her direction. Phillip was duelling Harry as Draco continued to retaliate against Pansy. Her arsenal of spells had improved immensely since the last time he fought against her.
Suddenly from the side, he felt a sting and burst of pain in his knee. He crumpled to the floor. Looking up, he noticed that Pansy was now teaming up with Phillip to take on Harry. Harry didn't see the new attacker approaching.
"Harry, Watch out!" he screamed, not paying any attention to his own safety.
Harry turned and saw a dark purple shot of magic aimed for his head. He ducked out of the way, the spell hitting the cave wall. Rather than disappearing, the spell rebounded, taking Harry by surprise. With no more time to deflect the spell, Harry unconsciously raised his arm in protection. Without any protection spells, he took the full brunt of the spell, screaming in pain. He fell back against the stones clutching his now useless arm.
Everything suddenly moved in slow motion for Draco. Neo Death Eaters and Aurors alike were locked in a series of carefully choreographed duels. Nobody wanted to cast a spell unless they were sure it would strike their target. Too many bodies lay dead or injured on the ground. He wanted to rush to Harry's side, but Pansy returned her attentions to him, aiming the same dark curse at him. Draco deflected it with a counter spell that directed it at one of the sea eagle nests. The nest quickly caught fire, increasing the light dramatically within the cave.
Draco was desperate to know if Severus was still alive, but he was torn when he saw Harry slowly getting up. Harry appeared more battered and beaten than before, the hex having struck him hard. His wand arm appeared bloodied and broken, but he refused to stay down. Pansy seemed to be standing back, revelling in the carnage, clapping in joy as Harry attempted to stand up.
Draco's fury rose to the surface. He knew he had to end this - now. Stalking toward her, he completely losing track of Phillip. "Draco, duck!" He almost didn't hear Harry's last minute plea, but he turned around to see a curse coming around directly from Phillip's wand. The ominous blue bolt of magic was aimed directly at him, so he tried to duck to the left. A large rock outcrop blocked his way, and the curse was still coming at him. He knew of no counter curse for this spell, he knew there wasn't one. It was going to hit him.
His reflexes reacted and he automatically threw a Killing curse in Phillip's direction, but that didn't stop the curse that was heading his way. He saw Phillip fall to the floor, exactly mirroring the way he remembered seeing him – his Polyjuiced double – fall dead.
As long as he lived, Draco would never forget the next few minutes, indelibly etched in his memory. Harry cried out as he saw the curse aimed in Draco's direction. With every ounce of his Gryffindor recklessness, he threw himself boldly into the path of the curse. His wand arm dangling uselessly at his side. Harry locked eyes with Draco, his gaze full of understanding and apology, but all Draco saw was their brilliant green reflection turn to pure agony as the curse struck. Draco could not bear to watch, but he could not bear to end that gaze. Harry crumpled to the floor, screaming in agony after the curse struck him square in the back. The screams echoed throughout the cave, and it seemed that everyone who was left standing stopped fighting for just a moment – drawn as they were to the cry of raw agony.
Phillip had aimed Aboleo Adesum at him, but Harry threw himself in front of it. Harry risked his own life – for Draco.
Harry was convulsing in unhealthy spasms as his screams continued. The sight of Harry like that fuelled Draco to reserves of energy and power that he never realised. His anger was palpable, and he turned on Pansy. He saw the gleam of victory in her eye as she smiled maniacally.
"Aw, is poor wee Potty hurt? You poor thing, Draco. It seems that everyone you love is either killed – or worse. You know, Daphne and your mother both begged for their lives before I killed them. I wonder if Potter will do the same." She stood snickering at Harry's convulsing form. She didn't seem to care that her brother was dead. It just proved she was the cold-hearted bitch Draco knew her to be.
"Shut up! Just SHUT UP!" As he yelled, he could feel his anger mounting. The earth shook beneath his feet as a small tremor caused a few loose pebbles to fall from the ceiling. He looked at the broken stance of Harry's body on the floor, and he realised he couldn't let it happen, not again. His magic was as uncontrolled as his anger as the rumbling grew louder. A rumble from deep in the earth distracted Pansy, and she had a worried look on her face.
The split second that she turned away was enough for Draco to gather every ounce of anger he ever experience and throw the most vehement killing curse in her direction. It was said that you could only cast an Unforgivable if you had true intent. In that moment, Draco wanted nothing more than to see Pansy crushed and ground into nothingness. She had taken away everyone he had loved, and that fuelled his hatred beyond definition.
The sickly green of the curse ripped right through Pansy's chest and her heart had stopped beating long before her empty shell crumpled to the ground.
Draco had moved to Harry's side before Pansy had even struck the ground. He was shaking so profusely, he could barely hold his wand.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. The aftermath of his powerful magic was still tingling in his veins, but the mantra in his head seemed to help. Looking around the cave, he saw that he was the only one left standing. Had he killed the others, or had they brought it upon themselves? He needed to be there for Harry, but he was desperate to learn of Severus' condition. Harry wasn't screaming now, for he had fallen unconscious. His body was still shaking in uncontrollable spasms.
Draco thought everyone else must be dead, so he was startled by a cough and a movement at the corner of his eye. Drawing his wand, he found it pointed directly at Charlie Weasley.
"Draco?" Charlie coughed again, trying to peer from the dust that was still falling from the ceiling. Apart from a giant red welt across his face and a bleeding shoulder, he was alive, and sitting up.
"How... How did you know to come?" Draco asked automatically, but continued. "Oh Merlin, Charlie. I need your help. Harry's down – and I don't know about Severus – he was in a very bad way, but that was a while ago." Draco indicated roughly where he left Severus.
Charlie shot up and headed over to where Severus was lying. The look of panic on Charlie's face must have mirrored Draco's own. He let out a heavy sigh. "There's still a pulse, but his lips are blue," he cried. He didn't want to leave Harry's side, but Draco forced himself to head to where Severus lay. "That Constable who was with you at the Manor raised an alarm to say you both had vanished, but Harry must have sent an urgent message to Dumbledore."
Draco was about to ask when he would have managed the time to do that, but realised that he had been gone for an awfully long time. He must have sent it from the mouth of the cave as he had been talking to Pansy. He dared a glance in her direction. She was still dead, slumped as she was next to the body of her brother. Charlie continued his chatter. "But I was the only Order member in the castle – apart from the Headmaster. We grabbed as many Aurors as we could get on short notice, and followed Harry's message to its source."
"How'd you get here, Charlie? I tried to Disapparate, but the wards are still up."
"I don't know if it's wards, or something about the cave. Harry shouted something earlier about the rocks in the granite – something magical. It could be some sort of natural Disapparition barrier.
"Then how do we get out of here?" Draco was starting to feel the panic. He needed to get Harry and Severus to a medi-wizard. His first thought was to go to anywhere other than St Mungo's.
Charlie pulled out a rune from the concealed pocket of his robes. "Return Portkey – takes us directly back to Hogwarts. Everyone had one." Charlie looked sad as he looked around the room as the number of dead. Draco tried hard not to look, for now he was on the search for another Portkey. He rifled through the pocket of an Auror he didn't recognise.
"Got one," he cried in triumph. "You take Severus back, and I'll take Harry. Where are these Portkeys going to take us, exactly?"
"The Infirmary, of course," Charlie grinned at the irony. "Harry always suggested we make them take us directly there. It would save us a lot of time."
Draco barely heard him, for he was quickly by Harry's side. Harry's body was twitching uncontrollably, and Draco knew this was the curse starting to knit itself to the bone, destroying the nerves and muscles in the process. Draco drew Harry into him to protect him on the journey. Just before they left, he noticed Harry's wand lying uselessly beside him. He picked it up, carefully putting it into his robe pocket. Clasping the stone rune between their hands he tapped it with his wand. This time, he only felt extreme relief at the tug behind his navel.
Three days.
Three long days and there was still no change.
Draco had not slept, nor would he, until he knew that it had at least made some difference.
Between Harry and Severus, Madame Pomfrey was stretched to her limits. Within seconds of their arrival, Draco had suggested she call in some help. She suggested St Mungo's, but he gave her a deathly glare. Dumbledore raced into the infirmary with the speed of a man one tenth of his age. He was solemn as he saw two of his favourite students lying there in such a grave condition. He suddenly looked every bit of his age.
Even he agreed with Draco's assessment about St Mungo's. Madame Pomfrey admitted she could not work alone, and would need the assistance of another medi-wizard. With that, Draco called the only other Medi-wizard he knew. Jean-Paul. He had no idea where Jean-Paul had gone to, or if he was even still in England, but his head was in the Floo to Emmaline faster than he could blink.
Jean-Paul was up at the school within minutes and provided all the assistance Madame Pomfrey needed. "What happened," he was quickly at Harry's bedside, his wand running over Harry's body as it still twitched and convulsed from the throes of the curse. His face showed no emotion.
"Neo Death Eaters, that's who happened." Draco might have sounded calm, but inside he was panicking.
Pomfrey saw that this strange medi-wizard was helping Harry, and she moved quickly to tend to Severus. Charlie was wringing his hands in despair by Severus' bedside, but Pomfrey soon had him acting in the capacity of a nurse.
"I'm going to have to sedate him, Draco. He needs his mind to be at complete rest so that he can begin to heal." Draco nodded at Jean-Paul's assessment, and pulled the strongest sedative from the potions cabinet. He noticed Jean-Paul watching him as he made his way back to Harry's bedside. In his dash to help the two most important men in his life, he barely remembered his own injuries. He was oblivious for his own need for medical attention, and flinched when Jean-Paul flicked some healing spells his way.
At the headmaster's prompting, he began to retell the extremely abridged version of what had happened since the Portkey from the Manor. When Draco told them what curses had befallen Harry, their faces were grave.
"I've never even heard of this Aboleo Adesum," Pomfrey frowned and she looked desperately at Harry.
"It's the darkest of degenerative curses, Poppy," Draco added.
"It's what caused Draco's knee injury, Madame Pomfrey," Jean-Paul added helpfully.
She shook her head. "But... but if that's the case... Oh dear - it's in his spine," she waved her wand over Harry, diagnosing his symptoms and pain. "You are right. We have to keep him sedated. I don't want to move him. If it's as degenerative as you say, then the slightest movement must be excruciating. His aura is fading in and out, and I haven't ever seen it that colour before." Draco was worried even more at the thought of that. Once a wizard's magical aura was injured, it would take a long time to recuperate – if at all. "We'll have to keep him from moving at all." She momentarily moved her attention to Harry's blackened arm. "Oh my," she said, shaking her head in despair. "Didn't he use any protection shields? This looks like it struck at full force."
Draco gave a quick summary of the cave, and the presence of magical rock within the granite.
"I know a lot of the granite in the Outer Hebrides is laced with porphyryte. Awfully nasty stuff. It reacts unpredictably with all sorts of charms and spells. It's the main reason why there are so few wizards on those remote islands. Nobody likes their magic to be acting unpredictably. We will have to investigate this cave further, but for now, you need to concern yourselves with Harry and Severus. I'll head back to my office and ensure that Scrimegour is aware of what has eventuated." Dumbledore left the Infirmary with barely a backward glance.
Draco was too busy looking at the fine web of spiderish starburst scars along the length of Harry's right arm. It was turning black – a sure sign that the magic was ebbing. He was not in good shape. "Well, I can work on this, but he'll have some trouble casting spells for a while," Jean-Paul suggested, "But that injury alone will take a while to heal."
"Maybe longer – wait until you see his medical history. That's a Skele-grown arm," Madame Pomfrey offered. She then pointed out a scar hiding under the blood on his face. "That scar on his cheek won't heal easily, either. I think the piece of glass went clean through his cheek. It was probably from his glasses. I can stitch it up, but the scar will remain."
Jean-Paul winced in disgust, shaking his head. "Weeks, then. I'm not sure what we can do for his other injuries, although," Jean-Paul whispered quietly under his breath before looking up at Draco. "What worked best for you when you were recovering from this curse."
Draco nodded, "The strongest painkiller you have won't help. It's good that he's unconscious – he'd probably want to kill himself from the pain if he were awake. I was in St Mungo's for eight weeks – and it was only my knee. If we could get the cure into him..." At the thought, Draco touched his pocket, and without a moment's hesitation, turned and fled toward his lab, ignoring everyone's queries and the pain in his knee.
He knew what had to be done. He didn't think twice about making the potion. The Pegasus Wingtips given to him by Severus had been forgotten in the battle with Pansy and Phillip, but Draco knew who needed them. It wasn't a matter for any conscious thought. The cauldrons and other ingredients were there – eagerly awaiting those elusive wingtips.
As he began the potion, he barely heard someone entering the lab. At least they had the presence of mind to wait quietly. Measuring out the last of the powdered Puffskeins, he slowly added it to the cauldron, stirring carefully. He had memorised exactly what to do. Harry's translations had been very clear. Apart from the ingredients, it truly was a simple potion to brew. Any competent first year would be capable of making this cure. Even Harry, Draco thought wryly.
"How is he, Remus," he asked. He had learned to recognise the werewolf's presence easily, and knew he was probably the only one who knew exactly how to behave whilst a master was brewing.
"Your doctor friend told me you were likely to be here. He's quite worried about the way you ran off. He would have come after you, but he is needed in the Infirmary with Poppy." Remus shrugged. "There's no change. Breathing, but not conscious. I only got back from London just a while ago, after Dumbledore Flooed me." Remus indicated the vial containing the matching pair of Pegasus Wingtips. "So you finally found what you were looking for?" he asked.
"Actually it was Severus, but Harry is the one who needs it. Not me." Draco didn't hesitate once.
Remus raised an eyebrow in surprise. "But isn't this what you've been after since Harry discovered that there was a cure for your cursed knee?"
"Yes, but Harry needs it more than me. If I can get this potion to him soon, it should reverse the effects of the curse."
"Should? Are you saying that there's no guarantee?" Remus sounded worried.
Draco shrugged, but didn't take his eyes from his cauldron. "No, there's no guarantee this cure will work – the book that Harry translated it from is centuries old, as you know. But still, it has to work – we've only got the one shot."
"And you're giving it to Harry?" Remus wanted Draco to be completely sure of his motives for what he was doing.
Draco finally looked up from his work to look Remus in the eye. "Harry took that curse for me. He didn't have to... Reckless bloody Gryffindor. I can't not give him this, Remus."
"Even if you can't be sure it will work – even after all that anticipation?"
Draco gave him an even glare. "At least I will know I've done everything in my power."
In the end, it was a waiting game. The potion was brewed and Draco personally administered it to Harry. Harry was still unconscious, but it was a potion induced sleep – the cure combined with the strongest Painkillers Draco could make. Only after that first day did his concern turn to Severus. He need not have worried, for Charlie was holding a vigil by Severus' side. Severus regained consciousness, albeit only briefly, but it was the only good news they had. He was now past the most critical stage, and would only need time to allow his body, and magic, to heal.
Draco barely even noticed that Jean-Paul briefly left the infirmary, but the smell of fresh coffee roused him temporarily. Jean-Paul was standing there, a ceramic coffee mug in one hand, and a paper bag smelling like heaven in the other. He handed it to Draco and showed deep concern. "Emmaline was dreadfully worried – for Harry, and for you, but she can't leave the store." Draco nodded, and he barely tasted the coffee.
"Pomfrey says he's stable now – we just have to wait." Draco didn't take his eyes off Harry for one second. His breathing was normal, but he looked strange without his glasses – he didn't quite seem the same.
"She's worried about you, Draco," he added quietly. Draco just nodded, but didn't look up from Harry. Jean-Paul could see his complete focus was on the man in the bed before him. "When will you know if the potion worked?" He asked. He seemed genuinely worried for Harry.
Draco shrugged, "When he wakes up... if he wakes up." Draco didn't mean for his negative thoughts to come rushing out, but three days without any response was putting Draco on edge. Not even a hurried interview with the Head of the Auror division could make him angry. All his emotion had gone into trying to keep Harry alive; and now, it was keeping him from being crippled and without his magic.
"If his recovery depended on sheer determination, then he is going to be fine," Jean-Paul acknowledged Draco's tireless work.
"But it doesn't, does it?" Draco seemed all at a loss now that his negativity burst through. "Harry's recovery depends on me, and whether or not a rare potion is going to do what it said. Of course, he wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me..."
Jean-Paul grabbed Draco around the arms to stop his tale of woe from spinning further out of control. "I can't explain away Harry's motives to you, Draco, but I think you'll have to ask yourself why he wanted to throw himself in the path of a curse aimed at you."
"Because he's Harry Potter, and he'll save anyone he can..." Draco answered automatically, but Jean-Paul was shaking his head.
"No, I don't think it is that simple. You just think about it for a while, and let Harry confirm it when he wakes up." Jean-Paul's smile was weary, but Draco stared up at his former lover and nodded. Feeling despondent wasn't going to make Harry recover any faster.
"Did I ever thank you for coming and helping, Jean-Paul? You didn't have to, you know."
Jean-Paul just smiled wearily, "Even if I weren't a medi-wizard, I would have done anything you asked me to. Friends do this sort of thing for each other." He put his hand over Draco's, and Draco remembered the very first time he wished for those hands to touch his body. He no longer had the same reaction, but felt glad for the touch. "No matter what's happened in our past, Draco, I still think of you as my friend." His smile was warm and genuine.
Draco gave Jean-Paul a warm, friendly hug, but quickly looked into his face. "How did you know I wanted to be with Harry – the other evening..."
Jean-Paul didn't let him finish. "I knew when you left Marrakesh that we would never be more than friends. I could see your fascination with him when I saw you looking out for him everywhere. You may not realise it, but I saw you and he in the coffee shop one day, and I sensed that his aura and your aura just fit together perfectly."
His own knee was throbbing furiously again – had been ever since the Cruciatus from Pansy, but he barely felt it. Draco needed his cane more than ever, and was about to stand up and check on Harry again, when he felt Jean-Paul's heavy hand pushing him back to the bed. "You're going to have to rest up for a while, Draco."
"Oh, no. I'm fine – not sick at all. Besides, you need me if anyone needs a potion brewed..." He could see from the determined look on Jean-Paul's and Madame Pomfrey's faces that neither of them were interested in his protests.
"...And if you don't get some rest now, you won't be any good at all. I hope to goodness that you aren't going to be as stubborn as Severus when it comes to being tended," Pomfrey started muttering as she tried to force a sleeping potion down his throat. Draco glared at her in complete distaste, but swallowed the potion like a petulant child.
"You don't have to leave the infirmary, Draco. You can have this bed right next to Harry," Jean-Paul reassured him. "Don't worry, we'll look after them – you have our word."
July 20, Sunday
Draco didn't remember the sleep, but the waiting game was something he hated at the best of times. The longer Harry took to regain consciousness, the less chance he was going to heal completely. Madame Pomfrey gave Harry the last dose of sedative potion. After this wore off, he would need to return to consciousness on his own. Only when he woke up on his own would they know if the cure had worked.
It was a good sign that Harry's sudden muscular spasms had stopped some time around the middle of the day – which day, Draco had no idea. Time held little meaning until he knew exactly how Harry would recover. But he reluctantly admitted that Jean-Paul and Madame Pomfrey had been right – he had needed rest.
News of the outside world filtered slowly into the infirmary, but Remus brought a copy of the Sunday Prophet for Draco to peruse. As he read the date on the front, he realised just how long they had been there. To his best recollection, they had visited the Manor on Wednesday. He assumed their little skirmish took place on Wednesday evening. Charlie confirmed that after Draco asked him. Charlie had barely left the Infirmary, even now, when Severus was awake, he was there for a large part of every day.
For a moment he was concerned for Melchett and Petite Amie, but Charlie assured him that Melchett, and Harry's owl Hedwig, had been seen taking treats up in the Owlery. As for Petite Amie, he assumed that Remus might be looking after her, but the castle was a fairly self-sufficient place for cats. He assumed she was probably having a grand time chasing after the school rats. No doubt he would be chastised for not being there to give her gourmet meals every night.
As he shuffled through the paper, he was surprised to see a distinct lack of news about the battle with the Neo Death Eaters. Dumbledore had mentioned he would be telling Scrimegour about their skirmish. Thankfully, someone with some common sense in the Ministry had let out a small story that they had engaged an enclave of the enemy, and that both sides suffered casualties, but no names had been released.
Draco vaguely remembered a rather short interview with that senior Auror, Gordon Bridgewater. He seemed most displeased at Draco's curt answers to his questions about the attack. Yes, Draco had been involved in the attack. No, he did not 'lure' Harry Potter there. Yes, he knew many of the victims, but had not had any contact with them since the war. No, he had no idea until then that they were the ones in charge of the enclave. No, he had no idea if they were the only Neo Death Eaters, but he seemed to think that most of the evidence pointed to Phillip and Pansy Parkinson having been in charge. Yes, it was true he was once involved with Phillip Parkinson (But Pansy was the one who admitted to two murders). No, Severus was captured earlier – you'll have to talk to him.
"Enough!" Draco's temper was ragged from the incessant stream of questions fired his way. Gordon Bridgewater seemed quite affronted that Draco wouldn't answer any more questions, but he had an obligation to find out why so many Aurors were called in and killed in action.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you more questions, Mr Malfoy – there appear to be many left unanswered." It was blatantly obvious that this fool assumed that Draco was guilty until proven innocent of complicity in the crime. Draco had been dreading this, and he hoped and prayed that Harry and Severus would recover to corroborate his words. To his credit, Charlie Weasley managed to provide an account of what he saw after his arrival, but it was too late to see much of what had transpired.
The afternoon was quietening down and Draco returned to his chair beside Harry's bed. It surprised him to realise that the Infirmary had been mercifully free of visitors. Beyond Dumbledore, Jean-Paul, Charlie and Remus, he didn't see any other visitors. Not that he would have been pleased to see them. It struck him as very odd that Granger and the Weasel had not been to see Harry. He knew Harry was angry at Weasley about something, but he would have thought that Granger would have been by his side, wringing her hands in desperation.
He briefly asked Madame Pomfrey, as he knew Granger had worked as her assistant for a while, but Charlie was the one who interrupted. "Well that prat of a brother of mine wouldn't be welcome if he so much as dared to show his face here. I'd have him hexed and out on his arse before he knew what hit him." Draco seemed thoroughly surprised by Charlie's reaction, but didn't press any further. Obviously there was more going on between them than Draco was aware of. But apparently, Hermione Weasley – how he'd ever get used to thinking of her as anything other than Granger, he had no idea) – had been keeping in touch with Madame Pomfrey.
Charlie had made his family aware of Harry's condition, but they respected Dumbledore's wish that there be no visitors. Hermione had apparently been forbidden from seeing Harry by her husband. Her daily Floo talks with Madame Pomfrey were made from her work Floo at St Mungo's, so the Weasel was none the wiser. He almost had a begrudging respect for her after hearing that. But if the Weasel had shown up at Harry's bedside, Draco doubted he would have been able to control himself.
As the long morning turned into early afternoon, Draco was worrying more than usual. Harry should be starting to wake up, but there was still no change in his condition. He was seemingly sleeping peacefully, with just the odd muscular twitch every few minutes. The fact that the muscle spasms were occurring less often was good news, but Draco knew how bad they'd been without that potion, and could only assume that even with the cure, they would take quite a while to vanish.
The plain white sheet was pulled up under his armpits with his arms laid out bare. His dark hair didn't seem to be any messier than usual, but he was in desperate need of a shave. Draco would have cast a Depilio charm on his face, but he knew that unnecessary magic around a hospital bed was not always the best thing. The idea of giving him a shave in the Muggle fashion seemed the best idea, and Draco managed to scrounge up some shaving cream and a cutthroat razor.
Draco was alone with the two patients. Jean-Paul had returned to the village. Draco had solemnly promised Emmaline he would visit the moment he knew Harry was better. Madame Pomfrey was taking a well-deserved break, but she was only a quick call away if Draco needed her.
Draco looked down at Harry's blackened and scarred arm. Curse scars always formed in symmetrical patterns of some description. The fine lines that spidered across his arm were actually quite intricate, but Draco knew that they were also quite serious. When Harry made it through the critical stage, he was going to still have a time of it trying to cast spells. He couldn't turn Harry over to look at the scar from where the Aboleo Adesum struck, but he didn't need to see another of those. He knew intimately what they were like. Even when he was cured, the scar, like all curse scars, would remain.
Draco was hovering with the cutthroat razor as he was ready to give Harry a shave.
"Surely you aren't having second thoughts?" Severus' voice startled Draco, and he nearly dropped the razor. Looking over at Severus, he could see a smirk on his face, yet he still looked weary and very tired. He pointed to the razor. "There was a time when you would have given everything to be in this situation, with a sharp implement at Potter's throat. Make it a nice clean stroke – you don't want to stop half-way. It irritates the hairs."
By the teaching tone in his voice, Draco thought he was telling him how to use the razor to cut open his jugular. By the end, he realised that he was joking, and offering the best way to use the implement to shave. Draco began the process, being ever so gentle with the sharp blade.
"You must be improving if your sarcasm is back to its former level, Severus." Draco commented in reply. Severus looked far from being better, but the fact he was talking and eating, was a lot more than Harry was doing.
"How is he responding? Any sign that the cure's working?" Severus asked in genuine concern.
Draco turned and gave him an unbelieving stare, but Severus continued before the question could be asked. "Charlie told me what you did," he said to Draco in all seriousness, "For Potter. So, has he responded at all? How did the potion look when it was finally brewed? Was it truly as simple as the instructions intimated?"
Putting down the razor, he sighed wearily, and turned to answer Severus. "I suppose you have a right to tell me off, Severus. You did get those wingtips for me – and I am more grateful than you can possibly imagine..." he turned to look back at Harry, a small smile crossing his face, "But Harry did the most selfless thing. He threw himself in front of a curse – for me. Nobody else has done that much for me before. I had to do it. I can't bear to think how he could live with that curse slowly eating away at his spine. I had to do it," he finally murmured.
"I'm not judging you, Draco. Nor am I going to suggest that what you did was in any way right or wrong. You made a decision to give that potion to Harry, and you made that decision with all your heart. I'm just surprised that it took something like this for you to finally admit how you feel about Potter." Severus admitted quietly.
Draco laughed gently. "A bit like how you've suddenly stopped running from a certain Weasley?"
"Yes, quite," Severus closed his eyes, and looked to be falling back to sleep, a gentle smile on his face.
Draco was alone again as the interminable wait continued. By sunset, Harry still wasn't awake. Draco became plagued with doubts. What if the potion didn't work? What if the wingtips weren't an exact matching pair? What if he didn't brew it correctly? What if... Draco lost himself in the despair of playing the waiting game, and it was a struggle.
It wasn't right that Harry just lay there – seemingly sleeping peacefully – when Draco was in such turmoil. His concentration was all over the place. He tried to keep himself occupied and focussed as he waited, but the novel in his lap was still marked at the same page as when he first opened it.
He had to stop this downward spiral of self-doubt. He just had to be patient and wait. If he were in any fit state to pace, he would already be doing that. If Harry's translations were right (and why wouldn't they be?) and his brewing were accurate and all the ingredients perfect (and this is where he was worried the most) then theoretically speaking, Harry should be waking up in a day or so and should slowly start to regain his strength, his magical aura and his physical mobility. According to the translation, it was a near complete cure, only leaving minor scarring at worst.
Harry still wasn't conscious by Monday morning, but Draco was encouraged by the fact that his breathing seemed to be more relaxed. His colour was a little better – there was a little more colour in his face, and a lot less colour in his damaged arm. This also encouraged Madame Pomfrey.
But nobody expected an uninvited visitor. An official from the Ministry arrived, unaccompanied and unannounced. "What the hell do you want?" Draco asked rudely, irate at how the man managed to force his way through the castle without being challenged.
"The records show that Mr Potter never made a statement after last week's skirmish. I was sent here by the Ministry to ensure we gather his statement before we hand the investigation over." The officious man spoke with an accent, which grated on Draco immediately.
"Sweet Merlin, you're from America?" he asked before really thinking.
The man bristled and his eyes narrowed, "The name's Langley. Dwight Langley, and I'm here on exchange from Canada."
Draco shook hands and apologised. "Sorry. Can't tell that accent apart. No offence intended. I'm just tired."
"So when will I be able to speak with Mr Potter?" he asked hopefully.
"When he recovers," Draco answered flatly.
"What do you mean?" Langley asked in confusion. "Has he taken ill?
"He still hasn't recovered from the injuries he took in the battle," Draco seemed just as confused as Langley. How could he not know about Harry's condition?
"But I have to ask him about the battle. We can't close the investigation until we have his report." He seemed quite confused that Harry was not able to talk. "We were unaware that he was injured. Oh dear."
"Excuse me," Severus piped up from his bed across the room, "Am I to understand that you have come here, to a medical facility specifically to ask an unconscious hero how well he did his job?" Draco turned to look at his old mentor, trying to hide the shock he felt at hearing Severus Snape defend Harry Potter in such a manner.
"I only found out he was here from a house elf that escorted me to this infirmary." He sounded apologetic.
"I believe it would be only right of you," Severus continued, "to consider the young man's need for recuperation time. He saved our lives, and took a near deadly curse in the spine in the process. As you can see, he is hardly in any shape to deal with your questioning at this time."
"And you are?" he asked Severus in less that polite tones. Draco could already see Severus bristling as he glared down the Ministry official.
"I am Severus Snape, Potions master, and Mr Potter saved my life, and Mr Malfoy's here during that battle."
"Oh, excellent," his entire demeanour changed at the news. "I needed to talk to you also, sir. I'm just a little confused, though. Why all the secrecy surrounding Mr Potter's condition. Surely this should be front page news?"
"Surely," Draco retorted, "Mr Potter's privacy should be respected at all times. I'm sure you are aware that the full details of the battle in question have been kept out of the public eye." Langley nodded. "Yes, well Mr Potter's prognosis will remain unreported, which is one of the reasons why he is recuperating here, and not at St Mungo's.
"Well I'm horribly embarrassed. I guess our supervisor was unaware of Mr Potter's current state when he assigned us to come and ask these questions. You are absolutely right in your statements." He turned to Severus. "If you are feeling up to it, sir, might I ask you a few questions? I have been authorised to advise you of the details of the Auror cleanup after you Portkeyed out of the cave."
Severus kept a calm and cool visage, but eventually relented to the questioning. Draco seemed surprised that this man was volunteering information to them and treating them without the usual veiled suspicion. It was a nice change.
They were pleased to find out that three more of the Neo Death Eaters had been caught in addition to those injured and killed in the cave battle. The Ministry was wise in thinking that this was not the end of the investigation. They had discovered Portkeys within the cave and on the fallen Neo Death Eaters, which led to a castle in the remote Outer Hebrides. It appeared that the castle was their primary hiding place, and there was ample evidence to support the idea that Pansy and Phillip Parkinson had both been working underground since the end of the war.
What startled Draco the most was that this remote castle seemed to be furnished with numerous items that had recently been marked as having been destroyed in the fire at Malfoy Manor. The castle seemed to have been elaborately furnished, with many Malfoy crested antiques and items scattered throughout. An entire library of books nearly matched the exact listing marked in the Inventory on Malfoy Manor.
"So many of my family assets have been located in an apparently abandoned castle?" Draco seemed incredulous.
Langley nodded. "It would appear so. I understand you're not in charge of that estate, Mr Malfoy?"
A wide smirk crossed Draco's face. "No, I'm afraid I won't be competent to look out for my own assets until I turn 25. The estate was frozen by the Fiscal Investigative Goblins at Gringotts. You'll have to discuss it with them. I believe you should talk to a fellow by the name of Weasley." He had no idea what had been going on, but alarm bells about the Weasel were starting to go off as things were falling into place.
Langley stayed for well over an hour, and left the pair of former spies in surprise. Never in all their years had they met a Ministry official who had been so helpful, and treated them like real people. The officer's final words just proved that they must have been dreaming. "Oh, and don't worry Professor Snape, Mr Malfoy. Mr Potter's current condition will remain private. All the public knows is that an elite squad of Aurors and former spies were able to engage the Neo Death Eaters and kill their leaders. We have specified that we're not satisfied that the threat has been entirely neutralised, but we are still working on it. The public are to remain vigilant. We don't want anyone else lingering about looking for an opportunity to start another group like this, you know."
"Quite." Severus' brief response served a duel purpose of driving Langley to say his goodbyes whilst letting Draco know just how run down he was feeling. It had been an eye opening conversation for both of them. As Draco offered a mild sleeping draught to Severus, he commented on the official's behaviour.
Severus laughed. "Probably because he was Canadian. He hasn't yet had time to let his head lodge firmly up his arse. Give him six more months here, and he'll be as bad as the rest of them."
There was no change in Harry's condition by the time Draco fell asleep that night. As his head hit the pillow he was grateful for the fact that, for once, Harry wasn't going to be front page news.
Draco was down in his rooms early on Tuesday morning. He couldn't bear to stay around Harry any longer. He was starting to feel thoroughly dejected. There was still no change, and he was starting to think that perhaps his constant presence was cursing his recovery.
He had studied every pore on Harry's face – just how far his chest rose and fell as he breathed – there was very little he didn't know about Harry after nearly a week in the Infirmary with little improvement. Heading back into his rooms, all alone, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of spending his future here – but without Harry in his life. The emptiness of that thought was overwhelming. He didn't want that.
For so many days and weeks he had been skirting around what he wanted, and now, just when it was nearly too late, he finally realised that he wanted Harry there always. He needed to see him smile. He needed to see his messy hair everywhere. A sudden thought crossed his mind and he knew he would never get cross at Harry for leaving hair in the sink. Something so small, yet so tangible, was almost unbearable.
Pansy had opened many closed doors that Draco had shielded when Daphne died. He always knew that he had the capacity to have a true love, but he was always scared that it would never happen. After Daphne, then Narcissa's death, he really didn't want to open his heart that much again. Now that it had been reopened, he wanted Harry to share in it all. Everything.
He needed to kiss him, and tell him that he really was more than obsessed with him – why he would even try to be more understanding of Harry's friends. He didn't care what they thought. All he knew was that his future was lying there in the Infirmary, and he needed him to wake up. But first, he needed to sort out some of his confused thoughts.
He suddenly realised why he came down to his rooms. He searched around, finally finding his journal lying underneath a mammoth pile of mail. Melchett was nowhere in sight, but Draco pulled out the jar of dead mice, and left it open on the table for when he next returned. He just hoped Petite Amie didn't eat the entire lot before Melchett returned.
The journal was still there, and he felt the warmth that always accompanied it when he wrote. He needed to sort out his confused thoughts, and Flash was just the man to listen to him. He might have been able to talk to Remus, if he were still around. He had to return to London to finish his summer job. No, he needed to talk to Flash. After all, he had been listening to him for months now. He was about to open the journal right there, but suddenly thought he should take it back to the Infirmary with him. Writing in it would break the monotony of the wait.
Firmly ensconced in the comfortable chintz wingback chair that he had conjured beside Harry's bed, Draco began the familiar, and cathartic process of writing in the journal.Tuesday 22 July Flash, Sweet Merlin, I am so confused right now, but I have nobody else to talk to. I have no idea if you are there, but I do know that every time I need you, you are usually at the other end offering your particular brand of help. I'm sorry I didn't write to you on Sunday – you would not believe what has happened. I see you didn't leave any messages, so I can only assume you were also detained. You see, I've just realised what it is that's been happening in the background of my dramatic life. I've gone and fallen in love. Yes, truly, madly, deeply and completely in love with the man I once thought I hated. When did that happen, and why did I not realise it until it was too late? Why us? Why do we not see the truth until it is too late? I realise now that the one thing I have been looking for all my life has always been here. And I'm so afraid of losing him. He's in a critical condition here in the hospital, and there's not a damn thing more I can do to help him. I've brewed potions for him, but he's still in a critical condition. All the potions skill in the world isn't going to do a damn thing to save him – and it's all my fault he was injured in the first place. You see, I haven't told him yet that I love him, because I only just realised it myself. I love him. You have spoken to me about my Anam Cara in the past – well, I am certain that he is in my Anam Cara group... I think he could very well be my soul mate. Are you there at all, Flash? I've always been one to say that I love someone in a cavalier fashion – in fact, if memory serves, I don't think I've ever said it first before. My past lovers have always said it to me, and I sometimes paid a little lip service and repeated it in reply. I don't think I really understood the nature of love – not until now. I know I have been rash in the past, but this is different – very different. You helped me to see who he truly is, and for that, I can't begin to thank you enough. I know you told me that you love me, and I love you too, but in a very different way. This feels... it just feels right. Do you understand what I'm trying to say? Of course, as usual, my timing is completely crap. I think I'm destined to never find true happiness. I solemnly swear that if he recovers from this, I'll tell him and hope to Merlin that he will feel the same way. I have to go – I think he's waking up.
It had been so long since Harry had moved, or spoken, but the deep gasp of air, followed by a fit of coughing was the most marvellous thing Draco had ever seen. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have woken up, but it was a good sign.
Please pray that he makes it through, Flash. Do that for me. Please?Luc
As he closed the journal, regretful that Flash hadn't been around to respond, he was struck with an awful thought. What if Flash had been one of the Aurors killed in that raid? He had the war experience, the credentials, the background. He could well have been there and Draco wouldn't have even known. Because they'd never exchanged real names or any other identifying information, there would be no way to ever find out who Flash had been if the journal entries just suddenly stopped. The thoughts nearly drove Draco into a panic, and he forced himself to relax, attempting the slow breathing exercises that he'd begun to learn from watching Harry so much. It helped, slightly, and he soon turned his attention back to watching Harry.
Harry was walking slowly along a deserted hall on what appeared to be the fifth floor of Hogwarts. He was being followed, but he wasn't quite certain how he knew that. All he could do was hold tight to his wand and keep walking, hoping that whatever or whoever was following him would either leave, or show themselves. Fighting bold and visible adversaries was always preferable to running from the unknown. He thought about how many times he'd discussed that with the Auror Trainees, drilling it into their heads that if they could keep themselves hidden and force their enemies into the open, they would have a better chance at not only winning, but more importantly, surviving.
'Potter, Potter, You're a rotter' the voice echoed through the halls, certain tones in the sing-songy phrase catching louder on the stone walls. It wasn't Peeves, but it was someone familiar with Peeves' antics. Before Harry could think this through, he found himself face to face with a half dozen people in Death Eater robes and masks. He was certain at this point that he had to be dreaming because he knew beyond a doubt that these Death Eaters were the same ones who had been killed on the day of the last battle with Voldemort. He couldn't see their faces, they hadn't spoken, but somehow, he just knew.
"You're not real. I'm not really here and this doesn't matter." He hoped that telling the dream figures the truth would cause them to go away, or cause him to wake up. Neither happened. "I'm just dreaming. I know that I'm dreaming, so you can't do anything to me. You can't hurt me." They looked at one another, and spread around Harry in a semi-circle. Grasping his wand just a bit tighter, Harry reached for his internal focus and took a deep breath, reminding himself that this was merely a dream and he was perfectly safe. He began to relax when he saw Draco coming toward him from behind the Death Eaters. Draco could help. He would verify that these people had died in the war and that it was all a dream. Harry smiled as he thought about Draco, watching his steady, determined pace, noticing that his limp was less obvious today. 'I love him. He doesn't know it yet, but I love him.'
He felt comfort in that thought, but it was quickly ripped away when Draco pulled out his wand and aimed it, not at the Death Eaters, but at Harry himself. "You have the nerve to smile at me, Potter? What makes you think you're worthy of my time? Do you think you're so high and mighty that I'll just fall at your feet the way the rest of the school did? That I'll forgive you the way you snubbed your nose at me on the train that first day? Did you really think we could be friends or something?"
Only then did he see that Draco was in a matching Death Eater robe and carried a mask in his free hand. The expression in his eyes had gone dark and the sneer on his face was highly reminiscent of their days as school boys. Draco's snarky laugh was the last thing Harry heard before a curse hit him.
Harry twitched a bit in his sleep and let out a quiet moan of pain. Draco looked up from his journal and eyed the man he couldn't stop thinking of. Now that he had finally realised he loved Harry, his only fear was that he would never have the chance to express those feelings – precisely what he told Flash. He reached out and covered Harry's pale and clammy hand with his, watching intently for any reaction. The coughing and murmuring was a sign that something was going on, but Draco needed him to wake up.
It was dark and cramped and Harry knew by the sound of footsteps over his head that Dudley was awake. He dreaded facing another day with the Dursleys, especially after Uncle Vernon had gotten so angry about the snake at the zoo. He truly didn't understand how these things happened around him, or for that matter, what was so wrong about it, but he knew that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia simply wouldn't stand for it much longer. 'I wonder if they'll kick me out? Where would I go? I wonder if my father had any relatives that I could stay with.' He found himself imagining life without a home, wandering the streets in search of some elusive Potter relative, hoping beyond hope that some stranger would pay more kindness to him than his family ever had.
His surroundings changed and he was suddenly in the cave outside of Hogsmeade, looking for Sirius. He felt certain Sirius could answer his question (despite the fact he seemed to have forgotten it just now) but he couldn't find his godfather anywhere. This was the last place they'd met, and he really needed to talk to someone understanding, someone who cared about him… He was so confused about these new feelings of his, and really didn't know how to deal with being different yet again. 'In the past four years I've discovered that I'm a wizard, that I defeated a Dark Lord as an infant, that I'm a Parseltongue, that I'm sought after by that same Dark Lord still. I've been singled out in classes, in competitions, in newspapers and magazines. Now, when everyone around me starts dating, yet again, I'm different.' How he wished for Sirius, wondering how long it would be until they could meet again so he could get this off his chest.
"Come on Harry, you need to wake up now. It'll be much easier to get well if you're awake... then you could start eating ... then we could start bickering." Draco smiled weakly. "And I need to talk to you, Harry. There's so much I have to tell you, so much I never knew, never realised. Please, Harry, I never expected this and I have to tell you about it. How can I do that if you don't recover?"
Harry was flying again, desperately looking for the snitch that was supposed to be out there somewhere. He knew there was something wrong with this experience, some reason he shouldn't have been looking in the air for the snitch anymore, but he couldn't quite remember what that reason was. A blur of Quidditch uniforms fluttered past him and suddenly he was alone on the pitch. He looped around, dove quickly to see what was going on, and then flew up to the level of the goal posts again, but still saw no one. How was he supposed to play the game if there was no opposition? Who was he racing against in the quest for the snitch? For that matter, was the snitch still out there? Had another seeker already snatched it up when Harry wasn't looking? The thought seized his heart with utter dread. If someone else already had the snitch, what would he do? He couldn't bring himself to fly anymore, feeling desolately caught up in those depressing thoughts. Drifting down, he settled slowly on the ground and began a lonely trek to the changing room, trying to take his mind off the fact that he'd lost the snitch. He knew better than to lie to himself about next time or other snitches. This was the one, the only snitch he needed, and he must have missed his chance.
Harry was so caught up in his own thoughts that he was utterly surprised to find Draco in the changing room, and even more surprised to realise that Draco was holding that golden snitch, the wings still fluttering slightly as Harry looked from the snitch to the green robes to the smile on Draco's handsome face. Suddenly it all made sense. He hadn't missed the snitch, it was waiting here for him. He began to smile in return when Draco spoke.
"I'm glad you're here Harry, I needed to talk to you. You see, I decided it was time to tell you how I really feel about things," he took a step closer and continued. "About you. I have to tell you that I've had a right good time these past few months, playing along with your little game. It's been a lot of fun, very amusing, especially when you got all lovesick on me. I must admit I hadn't expected that. We had a great laugh about it, didn't we?" Harry followed Draco's gaze, and realised he was surrounded by people. There were Slytherins from his school days, Order members, Death Eaters, Aurors, fans, reporters, the Dursleys, all of them standing around watching him, laughing at his foolish emotions and the game that Draco had played on him. His breath caught in his chest and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes. He tried to leave, needing to get away from the laughter, the humiliation, the pain, but he found that everywhere he turned there were more people, blocking his way out of the changing room. He finally gave in to the demands of his body and fell into a quaking heap on the floor, devastated by this turn of events and idly wondering where he could go to get away from the repercussions of this.
Draco watched helplessly as Harry shook in what appeared to be silent sobs, and tears began to leak from under his dark eyelashes. He worried that Harry was in pain, but knew it hadn't been long enough since the last dose to give him any more painkilling potion. He gently squeezed Harry's hand, leaning closer. "Come on Harry, let me know what's going on. Wake up and tell me what I can do. We're friends, right? At least somewhat? I know we don't hate each other like we used to. Dammit Potter, I haven't even been able to thank you for saving my life – and Severus' for that matter."
He quickly quit speaking when Madame Pomfrey walked in to check on her patient. "Has there been any change?" she asked as she examined the unconscious hero, checking his energy levels and the response of his magical signature and aura.
"No. He mutters and moans in his sleep, which is something, but it isn't consciousness. He seems to be in pain sometimes, even though he shouldn't be feeling much with that level of painkilling potion, but he just won't wake up."
Madame Pomfrey frowned. "The body needs to stay in a restful state in order to heal, Draco. The curses he took affected him physically and magically, and in order for his innate magic to help with recuperation, some regular functions must be put on hold. He won't wake up until he has recharged his own energy enough to be awake and still continue healing, although I'm afraid the scarring on his arm will remain, and I do worry that he may not regain the full use of it." She sighed wearily. "I only hope he won't lose any of his ability to cast spells. But he's a strong wizard – one of the strongest. He should bounce back in no time."
Draco nodded absently, and Pomfrey saw the pained look on his face. "Don't worry yourself so, Draco. Your potions brewing has likely saved his life. Not to mention that it could very well have prevented him from relying on other people to care for him the rest of his life. I know that he should have woken from your potion by now, but he had other injuries as well. His aura looks good, he's recovering, but it will take some time. We just have to keep waiting."
Draco nodded, knowing enough about the situation and the curses Harry had been hit with to know that Poppy was merely trying to make him feel better by focussing on the optimistic outcome. There was no guarantee of any of this, and the longer Harry was unconscious, the more likely it was that he wouldn't wake up at all. It was taking too damn long!
Harry walked the halls of Hogwarts, the students looking at him, snickering and smirking in their hands. He turned the corner and found himself confronted by a whole crowd of Slytherins – with Draco in their lead. Pansy stood there smirking at his side, and they were flanked by Damien Michaels and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He seemed to be amusing them with a funny story. "Of course," he was telling them, "Potter fell for it all – he's so naïve and utterly gullible..." The Slytherins laughed uproariously, and indicated to Draco they had a visitor.
Draco turned and spotted Harry, sneering at him in a long remembered way. "You honestly thought I could love you? You really believe in soul mates at all that rot? You're more pathetic than I thought you were, Potter. You know that night we spent in the lavatory was just a quick shag to get off, don't you? Besides, Nott here promised to return all my embezzled funds if I could get you off – and that night in your living room – well," Draco turned and smirked at Pansy, "That was just to wind up the Weasel. Pansy and I knew that the Weasel would go off his nut at seeing you like that, especially with me."
Harry burst into tears. Everything he hoped for was a meaningless lie – and Draco had not changed a bit. It was all a farce, and Draco had yet again shown his true colours. Harry felt like a fool as tears fell and he ran. He didn't care where he ended up, he just ran.
Draco could not work out what was making Harry sob uncontrollably. His heart rate soared as adrenalin pumped through his body. He wondered, not for the first time, if there was some lingering nightmare curse that had struck him. It was plausible.
Draco was starting to get a little angry. "You can't die on me now Potter, not when I've just realised I could love you - I do love you. I know you Harry; you have to get better. C'mon, don't die on me. I can't have fallen in love with you just when you're about to die. The world wouldn't be that cruel to me, not again. You surpass every love I've ever thought I had. You just can't die. It's not going to happen. It's not just anyone who could believe in soul mates, not like I do, but I think you could. I think you do. I know I've been a prat to you all these years. I don't know if you really did believe my apology, and I know you've been avoiding me. I'm sure you thought that incident in the lavatory was meaningless, but it was the beginning of an awakening for me. I haven't stopped thinking about it. Even with Jean-Paul I can see that now I need you, Harry."
Harry must have been embroiled in some internal nightmare. It was the only explanation Draco could think of for the sudden shaking of his head and return to consciousness. Draco thought he heard Harry say something, but he wasn't sure. Harry was crying out in despair - "No!" and Draco held his hand more firmly. Whatever demon was chasing him in his dreams, Draco wanted to banish them. He would have swept Harry up into a great big hug if it wouldn't compromise his healing.
As Harry ran from Draco and his taunts, a pair of strong hands stopped him, and brought him into a warm and loving embrace. The hands stroked his hair lovingly and a warm voice calmed him and soothed away his hurt. A pair of warm lips kissed him on the mouth, telling him everything was going to be all right. Everything – even if he was a Chardonnay sipper.
"Luc? S'at 'choo?"
"Yes," the voice murmured.
"I love you, Luc... It's me. I'm Flash. The journal never lies – I know I love you Luc, but I love Draco too."
In spite of the horrifying images that were haunting Harry, Draco was at least glad of some response. Perhaps it was some manifestation of the pain, but a response of any sort was better than just lying there in a catatonic state. "Come on, Harry, you can do it. Wake up... Please. I love you, and I promise, everything is going to be all right. Everything." He kissed Harry on the forehead and clasped his good hand more firmly.
A small smile crept onto Harry's face. Draco was momentarily buoyed. He was trying to talk – Draco could see the Adam's apple bobbing as his parched throat tried to work. "I... I love you too..." Draco just closed his eyes and smiled. Harry was going to come back to him, of that he was now sure.
But Harry continued to murmur. "Luc..."
Draco's eyes opened very suddenly. He thought he misheard, but Harry was still talking. "It's me. I'm Flash. The journal never lies – I know I love you Luc... Draco too."
Draco's heart pounded heavily – was he now the delirious one? "Flash?" the word slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself.
Harry overheard and smiled as he heard the name. "Yeah, s'me. Flash. I'm Flash. Love you Luc."
Draco was completely stunned.
Harry was calling for Luc, and he just referred to himself as Flash.
He was talking about a journal – this wasn't just some weird coincidence. Draco looked around and saw the journal sitting beside his chair. There was no way that Harry could have known about Flash and Luc – was there?
Harry was Flash.
Flash was Harry.
After all these months and having poured his heart out, here was the mysterious man who had kept Draco sane all these months – the man who admitted he loved him. Draco sat back in his chair in disbelief. Sweet Merlin – This is Harry?
Draco didn't know what to think, nor could he comprehend the conflicting emotions welling inside. All this time, and here he was – right before his eyes. But as he sat and watched the serenity on Harry's face, clarity stuck as suddenly as the lifting of a veil. Things suddenly fell into place. The fact that Harry and Flash were one and the same made perfect sense. Absolutely perfect sense. Draco could not believe he had not seen it before. All these months of long and heartfelt thoughts – their deepest secrets revealed, and Flash's desire and craving for privacy – it was so obvious.
But his moment of rejoicing was short lived. His hope suddenly deflated as reality began to set in.
Just what would Harry Potter do when he learned that his beloved Luc was actually Draco?
But Draco wouldn't think on that now. For now, he would be grateful for the fact that Harry was starting to regain consciousness, which was just the start to his long road to recovery. For now, he would continue to hold Harry's hand as he rested his head on the pillow beside Harry's. Harry's smell was still unique, and something Draco would sorely miss. For now he would take what few stolen moments he could keep, before reality came back.
"Love you too, Flash."
It was a long time before Draco slept.
Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows so
I'm bare-boned and crazy for you
When you come crash into me, baby
And I come into you - In a boy's dream
Dave Matthews Band "Crash into Me"
TBC in chapter 18...
Thank You: Thank you to SeparatriX and C Dumbledore for doing yet another fantastic beta job. Great work guys, and thank you for your encouraging ideas and ongoing support!
Review Thank You's:
Yet again, the review thank you's will take as long as the chapter to write! I wish this site had a way we could respond to each individual review, without us spamming your inboxes...
So a huge thank you to everyone who took the time to tell us what they thought. It means ever so much to both of us that you are still here, or that you're new!
General comments. So much squealing, squeeing, running around in circles, skipping homework & revisions & chores & sleep to read! OMG, we're such bad role models! The fact we write smutty fan fic isn't enough, you have to go and skip out on your priorities to read? tehehehe. Honestly, we don't mind. Thank you all. There seems to be a lot of Ron hatred going on, but alas, he just has horrid timing. Yeah, yeah, we know you all hate cliffhangers, but Azhure loves them, but that comes from reading too many Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden books as a child. Every chapter ended in a cliff hanger. So did most of Enid Blyton's books, come to think of it.
So many thanks to you all! Aeril, Akussa, angel-wings6, Annick, AsheslovesHarry, Awe, blue as lapislazuli, Bookwyrm3ny, Brenna8, bubblypop, CannonFodder, CelestialDrgn, Chaotic Draconis, Charley Loves You, checkmarks, cleasmile, CompleteGeek, coupdecoeur, Cremated Hamburger, Cuthrin Khafre, ddz008, Dr. Colleen, Draconias, duchesscarml, Elventess16, Ennovy, Faery Goddyss, Faith Maguire, fifespice, futago akuma-tenshi02, Hahathatsfunny13, hi there:), Honighase, HpDeVoTeE, Immortal Tears of, Inner Voice, inuyasha'sgirl951, Kaaera, Kalirafirestorm, katsuyakaibaobsessed, KC, ktmb20, Lain-Iris, Lelimo, Lillian-is-fickle, LonelyNoMore, Louise4, Ludra, lynnlacy, MachiavellianOrange, Magick, Menecarkawan, Michael Serpent, Moonlit Eyes, Mosrael, MyOriginalIntent, mz psycho, NephyRiddle, Nichalia, Nony, Omnimalevolent, PaDfOoT Da GrEaT, phantomindisguise, pimpilidimpi, Rhiwan, saFire flamE, sassw14, shady gurl, Shini4, Shinosu, Sliver Seraph, smarmy Penguin, Someone in a Mental Hospital, sphinx12, Starlette, TastuKitty, The Chaotic Ones, ThE iNfAmOuS fAg HaG, TheWickedess, Trista Louise, twighlightshadow, ura-hd, venure, volleypickle16, Wannaseemymoon, Web-of-Knots, White-Lily-Blossom, WhyteRoze28, Wispy Veil, Xandria Nirvana.
Some special words for:
Michael Serpent: Wow. wow. wow! Thank you, Michael... thank you. Thank you! Wonderful praise from a brilliant author. Can't wait until I can get my hands on some time to read again, and reread your works. I hope we didn't interrupt your usual schedules too much by making you read this nice and slowly. And as for your coffee drinking habits, well, Draco is rather good at convincing people of what to do... You raise some very good points about what will happen in the future... As you see, Ron wasn't in charge of the NDE's, but there's still something there that we need to discover... He's not completely in the clear just yet... oops, did I say that? Thanks again Michael, you made my day when Wintermoon emailed your review to me at work (cute gaiboi in the next cubicle was wondering why I was squeeing so loudly!) Don't forget, the address for our 'adult' version of the chapters is above. It is also on an LJ community - just look for the community persolumlacuna and you are there!
Ludra: Please don't feel insecure writing a review. Very few authors I know would be critical of a review. If you like a story, say so. If you don't like something and you really want to say so, then do that too. Authors love to know what you think. I can't say that every single review we've had has been completely positive, but we have seriously taken any and all concrit seriously, and we both squee back and forth over YIM about all the other reviews! Thank you for taking the time to say hi!
Chaotic Draconis: Glad we helped revolutionise the way you see H/D... they're kinda hot, aren't they?
Cleasmile: No, Ron was bald at his wedding. Yes, he's being a prick... but there is a reason for it. I can't say if it is a good reason, but he has a reason for being the way he is, and not everyone will be happy...
Cremated Hamburger: You win the internet for such a cool name! But yes, it is hard to devote the time to a long term intricate story. Part of the reason why we take our time between updates. We want to ensure it's the best work we can do, and we owe it to you to do our best!
Faery Goddyss: Ah, you finally finished it! Thanks for your wonderful words, they really do keep us fed and watered as we write. Hope the wait for this chapter hasn't been too long for you! Be glad you haven't been hanging out since we first started last January... As for the Anam Cara, yes, it's a real thing. Just google it and you'll find out that it is steeped in Celtic belief. As for how many more chapters left... I've looked into my crystal ball, and the number 21 keeps popping up. No, wait, that's just the number on the lottery ticket under my crystal ball... tehehe.
CannonFodder: We like to keep everyone guessing, hence the frustration factor. I guess we're both old enough to know that real life isn't that cut and dried, and that things always crop up before our happy ending, and before we meet our knight in shining armour. Glad you are enjoying it. Hope this fix will keep you going until the next chapter (give us both some time to read the Half Blood Prince, eh?)
Dr. Colleen: Emmaline swears that she only drinks decaf. As for Ron, yes, Draco woudl dearly love to mix up something for him. He's got the bottle of arsenic right at his elbow as we speak, and he's not adverse to accidentally letting a few drops fall into his cauldron. Glad you enjoyed another chapter. Hope this one hasn't sent you into fits of facial contortion.
The Chaotic Ones: Yes, Ron's timing is atrocious, but it could not be helped... I can see that there's a lot of Ron hatred in the room tonight... I wonder why. Glad you enjoyed it - hope we didn't put your schedule out too much by making you take a whole day to read it!
Pimpilidimpi: Thanks for your thoughts - we really do try to make Harry and Draco, and the Wizarding World a little more 'real', and it gives us much encouragement to know that we have somehow made them quite human. As for your speculations... Emmaline and Jean-Paul... definitely not quite altruistic, but definitely on some sort of a mission... as for manipulation, is it Emmaline, or is it the journals? Hmmm? Didn't your Uncle Arthur tell you not to trust something inanimate if you don't know where it keeps its brain? Hmmm. Perhaps... No, I can't say any more. Not a word... Wintermoon will come over here and beat me with a very large stick if I say anything else.
Cheers
Azhure & Wintermoon!