CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR
Assignment: Draco Malfoy

Dumbledore sat across from him. He was not smiling, but his eyes were twinkling mischievously. "Your assignment is to use your Legilimency skills on Mr. Malfoy and to find out as much information as you can."

Harry tried not to seem disappointed. This was supposed to be real work for the Order and all he had to do was gather information? "So I'm just investigating him?"

Dumbledore nodded. "You're receiving your detention for missing class, and he is receiving one for using racial slang in an essay he wrote. Professor Leurre is going to make the two of you duel during your detentions. This will give you a lot of time to concentrate on Mr. Malfoy, and even whisper the incantation if need be."

So he was going to spend an hour staring at Malfoy every night? What kind of assignment was this? "Sir, isn't there something else I could do?"

"I assure you, Harry, that your assignment is very important. The Order is counting on you to get information that we cannot get ourselves."

So they were just using him. Receiving orders wasn't as glamorous as he hoped it would be. "Why can't you just call Malfoy into your office and use Legilimency on him yourself?"

"It's unethical, Harry. I must abide by the laws. And I am not as strong as you are. It is not an option. The Ministry has entrusted me with my license, and using my skills on Mr. Malfoy would jeopardize everything. Because you are still in training, there is more legal leeway for you. And you have no magically binding contract that will get you fired from your job." His eyes were serious now. "This is very important, Harry. Malfoy must not find out that you are studying Legilimency. If anyone finds out, it could be disastrous."

So much for telling Ron and Hermione, Harry thought. He hated keeping secrets from them. This one would just have to be kept quiet for a little longer.

When Harry woke up on Sunday morning and stumbled down to the Great Hall for breakfast, he didn't notice the odd stares he received in the Gryffindor common room, or the girls' giggles in the hallway. In fact, he didn't notice anything was out of sorts until Hermione marched up to him while he was eating his breakfast and threw a copy of The Quibbler on the table.

"You've really done it this time, Harry!" Hermione cried angrily.

Harry continued to eat his oatmeal, glancing at the cover. The headline was printed in big, bold letters:

When Harry Met His Match

Is Romance In the Stars for the Boy Who Lived?

"So what's the problem?" Harry questioned. He tried to keep himself from blushing. He had publicly announced he was dating someone, so what?

"No one is ever going to take you seriously again!" Hermione exploded. "This article accomplishes nothing. You were supposed to put out a warning that Voldemort is still at large and dangerous!"

"Shh… Hermione, calm down." People were beginning to stare, especially after she had shouted the Dark Lord's name.

"I think it's sweet." Seamus was sitting a few feet away from Harry at the Gryffindor table. He and Dean were sharing a copy of the newspaper.

"Sweet!" Hermione shouted back at him. "I bet you won't think it's that sweet after you find out who he's been snogging!"

"Sit down," Ron commanded, coming up behind Hermione and forcefully pushing her onto the bench. Thankfully, Seamus missed what Hermione had said and was looking at one of the puzzles in the magazine. Harry glanced at Ron, silently grateful for his attempt to stop Hermione from making a scene.

"Harry, I don't think you understand the seriousness of this…"

"And I think you're overreacting," Harry interrupted. "It's a harmless article. It's gossip."

"Hardly," she snapped. "Have you even read it?"

Harry sighed and put down his spoon. He picked up the magazine and flipped to the cover story.

Mystery Muggle Captures Harry's Heart

Spring is approaching and romance is in the air—especially for one famous wizard studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter is in his sixth year of study, and when he is not busy with his schoolwork or catching the Snitch on the Quidditch field, he spends his time pining away for one very special Muggle girl.

'She makes me want to be a better person,' Potter says, blushing red as he speaks of her. 'She may not be a magical being, but she's cast her spell on me.'

Harry groaned. Malfoy was definitely going to get him for that quote—which he didn't even say. He remembered mentioning something about how Eva's lack of magic didn't bother him. He didn't even notice it. The article went on to describe how they had spent their winter holidays together, and how Harry wouldn't mention her name. He may have even seen the word marriage somewhere. The article was filled with clichés and his twisted words.

He glanced up. Both Ron and Hermione were watching him read apprehensively. "What is it?"

"Read the last paragraph," Ron said.

Harry thumbed through a few pages until he came to the end of the article.

Though Harry's secret love may distract him from his studies, he still is still spreading the message that war is on the horizon. 'Voldemort is still a threat. Every day that nothing catastrophic happens is just another day for him to spend on his evil plot."

However, when asked about the horror at Azkaban, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, contradicts Harry's theory. "That boy is just as delusional as he was last year. There is no threat from a horrible wizard who no longer exists. It is the idle threats of a schoolboy trying to impress his classmates. The boy still yearns for attention. It's all rubbish!"

Damn Rita. After everything he'd told her about how the war was coming, and how they couldn't forget about Voldemort, she had end the article making him look like a delusional schoolboy.

"Still think it's harmless gossip?"

Defeated, Harry hung his head. "I'm truly sorry, Hermione. But there's nothing I can do about it now." He wiggled his spoon around in his oatmeal, having lost his appetite. "The damage has been done."

"So undo it," Hermione suggested.

"How?"

"Another article. This time, have somebody else write it, and we'll make sure that the right message gets across."

"Who's going to write it?" Harry questioned. "Rita Skeeter can obviously not be trusted to get the message across."

"I could write it," Hermione said.

"Or Luna," Ron replied. "Her dad will let her write because it's his paper, and we can make sure that she sticks to the topic at hand."

Harry tried not to notice the sickening look Hermione had on her face at the mentioning of Luna's name. He hesitated. "I don't know about this. Maybe I should just lie low for a little while…"

"You're going to have to," Ron interrupted, "because of your newfound love." Was that the subtle tone of jealousy Harry heard in his best friend's heart? "But we were also thinking that you could give a speech at the Muggle Debate at the end of the term, and then give out copies of the article to the whole school."

Harry gulped. "A speech?" There was no way in hell he was getting in front of the entire student body of Hogwarts and lecturing them about Voldemort. "I'd sound like I'm nutters."

"Don't you see, Harry?" Hermione said. "They have to be warned. They need some sort of preparation or else when the war really begins, they'll get lost in the chaos. You owe it them, Harry."

He didn't really think he owed any students at Hogwarts anything. After all, he'd thwarted Voldemort numerous times, saved the school from a Basilisk, and prevented the deaths of many of his peers. But he held his tongue. Hermione was right. It was his responsibility.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was usually very messy, but when Harry arrived for his detention with Tonks, she had already cleared an area at the front of the room for dueling.

"Good evening, Harry," she greeted, rather rigidly. However, there was a certain bend to her smile that indicated Tonks was still behind the façade that the other students knew as Professor Leurre. "Mr. Malfoy should be joining us shortly." She nodded to an empty chair for Harry to sit in.

Harry wished he could speak freely with her and ask her about Remus. Eva wrote him at least once a day, and she almost always dedicated a paragraph or two to Remus's behavior. He had been staying at the Burrow ever since the last full moon, and whenever she was home he wouldn't let her out of his sight. He'd even shown up at the Ministry twice, which was beginning to make other people suspicious.

Malfoy slammed the door behind him as he entered the classroom. He walked swiftly to the front of the classroom and stopped just short of Professor Leurre's desk. "What the hell is this for?" he demanded, gesturing to the empty space.

"Watch it, Mr. Malfoy," Tonks replied. "You and Mr. Potter are going to be dueling for your detentions this week."

Malfoy glanced at Harry. "What are you in here for, Potter?" he spat. "Too much brown-nosing?"

"Come now, gentlemen," Tonks interrupted. She gestured to the two of them. "Please stand up, face one another, and pull out your wands."

"I know how to duel," Malfoy snarled.

"And you know that if you get fresh with me one more time I'll give you another week's worth," Tonks snapped. Harry tried not to grin. Tonks had really evolved from her clumsy old self to a smart and sassy teacher.

Harry was having flashbacks to his second year when Malfoy tried to sic a snake on him during Lockhart's dueling club. He quickly got up from his seat and stood at one end of the classroom. Malfoy stood at the other, his wand already in his hand, poised for action. His eyes narrowed at Harry and his lips curved into small, sly smile.

I've been waiting so long to do this again.

Harry jumped. He wasn't prepared for "hearing" Draco so easily. It was one thing to read the thoughts of Dumbledore or Dobby or even Michael Corner, but having Draco Malfoy's thoughts bombard his head was a little unnerving.

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy's thin lips grew into a wider smile.

"You need a new line, Malfoy," Harry muttered. But in truth, he was a little afraid of what he was going to find out about Malfoy's past. After all, there had to be a reason he was such a racist bastard.

"Densaugeo!" Draco shouted, trying to hit Harry with the same teeth-enlarging curse that he had hit Hermione with in their fourth year

Harry dodged it just in time. This was going to be harder than he thought. If only he had some way subdue Malfoy. He raised his wand, eyes focused on Malfoy, and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" Malfoy fell to the ground, paralyzed. Harry kept his wand raised and glared into Malfoy's beady gray eyes.

"Legilimens…" he whispered.

He was in the dungeon. Snape was in front of him, reading off potion ingredients. Harry's blood still boiled at the thought of the greasy old man from what happened on Christmas Eve. However, using his Occlumency training, he did his best to put his feelings aside and concentrate before he lost the image. It must have been during one of their Advanced Potions lessons. Snape was speaking harshly.

"It's an illegal substance. I cannot dirty my hands at Hogwarts to get it. However, as a student, you may have some leeway."

"How?"

Draco seemed shocked by this information. He was curious. He approached the Potions Master cautiously.

"You can order it from her and she'll send it to you with one of her miniature-bred trained dragons. But I must warn you, you must only touch it with dragon-hide gloves or you will lose a limb."

Suddenly, the paralyzing charm wore off of Draco. Harry jumped and lost his concentration. The image was lost. Malfoy sat up, red-faced and sputtering, "So you want to play rough, do you Potter?"

He got to his feet and pummeled Harry, without warning, with a stinging hex. Harry feltneedle pricks in his gut, right where Malfoy had hit him. He somehow managed to dodge the next spell that Malfoy threw at him. He was beginning to reconsider even trying to get any information out of Malfoy. It was hard enough to keep himself from getting jinxed.

But suddenly, as his eyes connected with Malfoy's, memories flew at him. Draco running to the arms of his mother as a child. The first time he rode a broomstick. The day he got his letter from Hogwarts.

The next series of images passed by so quickly, Harry barely had time to register them all. It had taken place when Draco was younger, but Harry recognized the Slytherin Crest stitched into a drape in the background. He was at Hogwarts. There was a bit of holly hanging from a candle on the wall and it was snowing in the bright moonlight outside. Winter.

He was on top of someone on his bed. Kissing her. Ravaging her. Harry could feel the way her lips felt against his. They were slimy – full of makeup and gloss. He looked down.

Pansy Parkinson in her pinkdress she wore to the Yule Ball was beneath him. It was fourth year. Somewhere Harry felt sick, but as Draco, he didn't care. She was a warm body. He had his fingers wrapped in her darkhair and pulled, perhaps a little too roughly. Pansy squealed beneath him. She arched her back, giving him just enough space to unbutton the back of her dress.

"Get off her."

He kissed her one last moment, as an act of defiance, and then looked over to the voice. His father was standing near the fireplace, wiping soot off his cloak. Lucius. Rage welled up inside of Harry – of Draco – as he got up off his bed. He had no shame, no sense of regret. He was angry he'd been interrupted.

"Come with me."

"What the bloody hell for?"

Lucius's lips curved into a hideous grin. His fist coiled around the staff he carried, his eyes dark with contempt.

"It's time for you to become a man."

"I believe that's what I was just doing."

Draco gestured to Pansy, who was trying to button up the back of her dress, but failing miserably. Lucius glared at her. Frustrated, she held up the front of her dress and hopped off the bed. She scurried away, out of sight, her high-heeled shoes clicking in the darkness. Lucius was angry at Draco's smart mouth.

"You think doing that will turn you into a man? You've got a lot to learn, boy, much more than I thought. You aren't a man until you've had your first kill. It's time to finish something that I should have taken care of long ago."

The words echoed in Harry's brain. He was vaguely aware of muttering a sponge knees curse and pointing his wand at Draco, but his mind felt as though it were in two places at once. He was split.

Lucius had his wand raised and pointed at a woman who Harry had never seen before. She was in her kitchen, sinking to the floor in agonizing pain. She was a Muggle. Harry could see electrical appliances on the countertops and Christmas magnets on the refrigerator.

The woman's face was twisted in pain. Her eyes were cloudy. She was in a stupor where the pain was all she could think of. He could take pleasure in that.

"Do it boy! Do it now!"

But the look in her eyes, the heavy breathing he heard from the bedroom, it all made him hesitate. Who was this woman? Why was he wasting his time on a worthless Muggle?

"Are you a coward! KILL HER!"

He raised his wand. Nobody called him a coward. Worthless Muggle. Idiot father. He wasn't going to kill this woman because his dear daddy ordered him to. No, he was going to do it out of the pure hatred he felt for all Muggles.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Astream of green light burst from the end of his wand and hit the woman directly in the chest. From somewhere inside, she managed a scream of terror. Surprised, he nearly dropped his wand. But she was dead seconds after the spell hit her. The life was gone from her eyes as she stared straight at him.

The first of many.

Harry suddenly felt a searing pain in his knees as he realized that Draco had hit him with a swelling charm. He cursed and fell to the floor.

Tonks intervened. She stood up from her desk, and pointed her want at Harry, muttering the counter curse. "Take a break, gentlemen."

"You need one, Potter," Malfoy spat. He grinned at Harry with his beady eyes.

Harry stayed on the floor to catch his breath. That was enough information for one night. Now it was time for him to kick Malfoy's ass.

Harry's detentions with Malfoy had left him exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He had learned more about the Malfoy family in the past few days than he'd ever wanted to know. Most of the information was obscure. For example, Malfoy and his father routinely dueled, during which, Draco was beaten to a pulp. Harry was surprised that he wasn't any better at it—he'd had enough practice at home.

But he found that Potions was most definitely Malfoy's strong point. Even before he went to Hogwarts, he brewed them with his own cauldron set in his home, and would test his creations on stray animals. During one of these disturbing sessions, a stray cat grew an extra claw.

Ron and Hermione noticed that whatever Harry was doing every evening, it was certainly taking its toll on him. Once, he returned with quite a large bruise on his forearm.

"Rough night?" Ron questioned, eying the wound.

Harry flopped into a chair in the common room. "Ridiculously rough. Snape hit me so hard I backed into the extra cauldron."

"Snape?" Hermione questioned, looking up from her homework. "I thought you had detention with Malfoy again."

Harry gulped. That's right; he was supposed to be having detention, not spending his time in the dungeon with Snape. How could he have been so careless? "I did. I mean, I was supposed to. But then Snape came and got me halfway through to practice, er, remedial potions."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really," Harry replied, a little too quickly. "It's been a hard week, you know! I've got to spend every waking moment of the day going to class or doing homework, and then spend my nights in detention or the dungeon. It can get rather stressful, you know?" The words came out more harshly than he intended, and that only caused more suspicion from Hermione.

"Lay off him, 'Mione," Ron said. "He can't even keep track whether he's coming or going."

Hermione didn't buy it, but she didn't argue with Ron. In fact, she scarcely talked to him at all anymore, except for when Harry was around.

Harry flashed Ron a smile of gratitude, but only saw that he, too, didn't believe a word that was coming out of Harry's mouth. "Hedwig is waiting for you upstairs. She had a letter," Ron added. "Funny, she didn't know where to find you either."

Stinging, Harry rose from his seat in the common room and quickly followed the stairs up to the boys' dormitory. He hated keeping secrets from his friends – from everyone. He couldn't tell them about his Legilimency training because they'd probably think he spent his time reading everyone's minds. He couldn't tell them about Eva or Remus coming to Hogwarts for transformations. Once they found out the truth, would they ever trust him again?

Part of him thought about how Eva would react if she knew he was studying Legilimency. As a Muggle, she would be more likely to think that he was reading her mind, not Ron and Hermione. The gift of Legilimency scared Harry. Surely, it would scare his friends even more.