Chérie, parchments and quills.
Chapter Eight - Halloween slips
Friday, October 29th 2010
Harry was sat in his private chambers - marking homework assignment at the small kitchen table, when he heard the door knock. It was about half two in the afternoon; he hadn't been expecting anyone.
"Draco." He greeted in mild surprise once he'd opened the door. His stomach seemed to squirm, but he firmly ignored it and gestured for the blond man to come inside. "Coffee?"
"Please." Nodded Draco, sitting down on one of the dark blue armchairs that Harry had kept since their firewhisky night.
Draco and Harry had made a habit of meeting up every fortnight or so for coffee - or whiskey when they'd had a bit of a busy week and needed the pick-me-up, but Harry had certainly not been expecting the blond man today. Draco had never showed up without arranging anything first.
Harry was still terrified that his feelings for Draco sat precariously on a precipice - likely to tip into something more than platonic friendship if he wasn't careful, and he was still growing fonder of Tau every day.
His crash on Tau was a blossoming like wild flowers in an undisturbed meadow, he was caught hook line and sinker, and the man's personality was so intoxicating and charismatic. Tau's words were both witty and refined. The man radiated intelligence, eloquence, and of course, that light, playful, amusing arrogance of his - but he always made him smile, laugh, or contemplate things he wouldn't have before. The man also had a calm, appeasing quality to him; the type of calm that Harry could imagine in front of a crackling fire, with coffee and gentle conversation; the type of calm that was coming home from work and embracing each other.
Draco was fucking gorgeous – attractively so in the, 'Mmmm' department. He was pleasant company for the most part - now that they'd dissolved their enemy status and false notions of each other, and it seemed like Draco enjoyed his company vice versa, but the man was still closed off, guarded, and his personality was mercurial. Draco was also real – very real and very much present.
Coffee made; Harry frowned as he sat down in the armchair opposite Draco, noticing that he seemed to be in deep thought and pondering something. "Everything okay?" He asked.
"Mmm. Sorry for intruding on you unannounced Potter - Harry, but there was something I wished to discuss with you. Mind you, it might be nothing to worry about." Draco sipped at his coffee, but Harry could see the slight frown he tried to hide. Draco appeared concerned or worried. This was Draco in a serious mood.
"Don't be - sorry that is. I was just grading. What did you want to discuss?" Frowned Harry, watching as Draco lowered his coffee and taped the side of the mug with his ring index finger in thought. Harry sipped at his own coffee and waited.
"I just had the sixth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class." Draco alluded.
"Silas?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows and lowing his mug.
"Indeed. They were making the draught of living death a couple of week ago. I believe that some of Mr Avery's potion had been missing at the time – the quantity was off even after he'd handed in his sample, but I can't prove it. I tested the sample myself; it appears stronger somehow –- more potent. That is rather worrying."
"What does this have to do with me?" Asked Harry, suspecting he knew which way this was leaning, but he wanted to see what Draco had concluded himself. He hadn't really spoken to Silas Avery since that day in Draco's potions class – when the boy had demanded to know what he had been doing in the class room six weeks ago, and they tended to avoid each other in the halls and such.
"Today, I overheard him talking to Mr Korbin Fraizer-"
"That's the Slytherin boy with the long black hair right –- really pale skin, quiet, hardworking?" Harry asked, confirming the face to the name.
"Yes, that's him. I didn't hear the entire conversation, but I did hear this: '…that certain teacher needs to take a long nap, he works far too hard.' His tone was rather angry."
"You think - You think he was referring to me?" Harry asked.
Harry was expecting something like this, but It was worrying; the draught of living death, at normal potency, is an extremely powerful sleeping draught which sends the drinker into a deathlike slumber. Harry didn't dare imagine what it could do when strengthen. Although he was sure he could handle it, he didn't want to think that Silas would actually try to do something of this magnitude –- and all over being denied for NEWT level Defence against the dark arts.
"The prejudice against my house is not as it once was; I was surprised to see the unity of all four when I returned, but Silas's attitude hasn't changed with the times. I see a teenage boy holding onto to archaic and dark views, views similar to those that dark lord once held. I would not underestimate him, and I would be careful –- he holds a grudge against you Potter - Harry, that much was obvious during his detentions with me."
"I'll be careful - but do you really think he'd go that far?"
"As much as I hate to admit it, yes!"
They both drunk their coffee in unison, an ominous feeling – like a chilled draught, swept over them in the sudden silence.
Saturday, October 30th 2010
"I assume you both have something to discuss that couldn't be mentioned during the meeting." Alluded Minerva McGonagall, eyebrow raised at her ex-students. She'd obviously not been expecting anyone to stick around after the short staff-meeting they'd all just had - regarding Halloween, and especially not Malfoy and Potter - together.
"It's regarding Mr Avery." Said Draco, cutting straight to the chase. Minerva's face fell and she sighed, understanding now why they had waiting till everyone had vacated the room.
"What has he done this time?" She asked, resigned and wary.
"Draco and myself believe he intends to harm another teacher." Harry informed her, sitting down in the chair to the left – in front of Minerva desk.
"Intends to harm you, you mean." Draco corrected, giving Harry a pointed look as he followed suit – sitting in the chair to Harry's right, before returning his gaze to Minerva. "I believe he may have an altered version of the draught of the living death, and that he intends to slip it Mr Potter's way."
"We don't exactly have solid proof, but I think we need to be careful – prepared. There's a possibility that it isn't me he targets – despite that being the most obvious outcome." Harry explained. He glanced at Draco, wondering when the blond started to care for his safety.
"What brings you to this conclusion? It's a very serious accusation, one that will have to be handled with upmost care and caution. I cannot simply confront Mr Avery without further proof." Said Minerva, but her tone suggested that she believed them and was hoping they had more to go on.
Harry and Draco shared a glance, then together, they started to recount everything they knew so far.
Sunday, October 31st 2010
Floating, carved pumpkins illuminated the Great Hall in autumn-orange light, and a charmed – almost sentient, cold breeze traversed the Hall - sweeping past Harry every few minutes as he checked the food and drink for contamination at the extravagant buffet table.
It was almost anticlimactic. The vibe of Hogwarts Halloween when he was once a student was ominous at best, and wasn't Halloween supposed to be scary? Hogwarts made it feel friendly somehow, fun and animated, and it had been that way since the war – since he'd been a teacher here. Harry supposed that murdering parents, letting in real grown trolls, letting out a Basilisk, breaking out criminals to attack the school, allowing terrified students to compete in dangerous tournaments, and announcing that the most fearful dark lord is back and wants to murder you all – – well, Harry wasn't going to complain about the change, that's for sure.
The threat currently, was that a student may slip him – or one of the other teachers, an altered version of the draught of living death. Draco was confident that the Wiggenweld potion would still be the best first course of action should anyone be poisoned, and a few teachers had vials on hand. They seemed to have everything under control, there was no evidence to say that Silas would actually do anything nor that it would be tonight, and It certainly wasn't as deadly as Basilisks or dark lords.
Draco flowed in next to him as he was checking the Halloween punch, and Harry glanced at the uniform the blond was wearing.
"What on earth?" Frowned Harry.
"It's my old school uniform Potter." Draco informed him, but that much was very obvious – right down to the ugly pointed hat they used to wear during the starting feasts and such. The green underside of his black cloak looked brighter somehow – as did the green in his stripped tie, and fuck did it bring back memories!
"What – H-How does this relate to Halloween?" Asked Harry.
"I'm a wizard." Draco explained, as if it was obvious, and he was smirking proudly at his own attire. "And what are you supposed to be?" He frowned at Harry, eyeing him up and down.
"Dracula." Said Harry, frowning as he looked down at himself. He was rather proud of his black cloak – the red silk underside matched his red gothic waist coat, and he couldn't understand why it wasn't obvious who he was supposed to be.
Draco snorted. "You do realise that Dracula is muggle nonsense right. Vlad III Dracula - Prince of Wallachia in the 15th century, was bitten by a vampire - Raynould Euanes to be exact. Vlad was a wizard that declared genocide against all vampires because one turned his brother. Vlad killed his brother, believe him to be dead already, but then Raynould turned Vlad as a punishment. Vlad went mad with rage; attacked the Ottoman empire – which was infiltrated by vampires, and Vlad got himself killed. He was a vampire for a few short weeks, and they found his decapitated remains scattered on the battlefield after the Ottomans cut up his corpse. The ministry at the time, failed to erase the memory of all the muggle witnesses: a few slipped away with their memories intact, and thus, Dracula stories were warped and pasted down as mere stories in the muggle world."
Harry winced. "Nice of you to shit on my parade." He muttered, suddenly making a mental note to research wizard history before choosing next year's Halloween costume. It didn't help that Halloween brought up bad memories for him, and he'd tried to make an effort every year for the sake of the students.
"You're welcome. Always happy to educate lesser minded beings. You should at least lose the ridiculous teeth Potter – Harry. No vampire walks around with their teeth out like that - they appear before they feast on a poor unfortunate soul, and they are much more terrifying."
"Thanks—" Harry drawled bitterly, removing the charm on his top canines. He felt rather stupid now to be honest. "Did you just come to insult my costume or-"
"I came to check you were still breathing actually. Wouldn't want to miss the show if you suddenly dropped dead – the boy who lived, killed by poison at the hand of a teenager. I'd pay a lot for front row seats." Draco smirked, eyeing up the spider decorated chocolate muffins on the table.
Harry rolled his eyes and went back to testing the food with his wand – shaking his head in disbelief. Draco was certainly a massive puzzle; no one could simultaneously insult him and show concern for his well being in the same breath the way this man could. That was another conundrum though, that Draco even cared about him at all.
The sudden, drawn out moan, had Harry turning to face Draco once more. Draco had taken a bite of a chocolate muffin, his tongue darted out to the side of lips - not wanting to waste any of his chocolaty treat. He failed to noticed the way Harry was now staring at him, nor the way Harry's tongue slithered out to wet his own lips as Draco took another bite at his muffin.
Harry shook his head and turned away from such an indecent sight.
"The elves got the chocolate right at least." Said Draco, taking another muffin.
"You won't get front row seats if you end up in the infirmary." Said Harry, as he helped himself to the Halloween punch now that he'd finished his checks.
"Don't be ridicules Potter – Harry." Draco spoke between mouthfuls. "I'm not some foolish child that doesn't know when to stop."
Harry just hummed in feigned agreement. Watching the students: dancing to rather ominous Halloween music as the charmed lights flickered over them, sitting at round tables eating Halloween themed foods, or standing around chatting on a current sugar high.
Draco never wandered from his side, still eating his way through far too much sugar and chocolate. Then, about half-hour later, Harry noticed the warning signs of fight about to break out across the Hall. He set down his cup and went to deal with it before it escalated.
"What's going on here?" Harry's voice was loud and firm, staring down at the three squabbling students.
"Nothing Mr Potter sir." The male student - dressed as a Veela with an eye mask on, quickly spoke before the other two could.
"Mr Oscar Haines correct?" Harry guessed, and the Slytherin first-year nodded.
"It is certainly not nothing! You levitated Mercia's book into the back of my head!" Harry recognised the boy as Mr Cain Sharrow, a first-year Ravenclaw dressed as … Bertie Bott he assumed, what with the charmed beard, grey suit, and 'every flavour beans' as buttons. Cain was pointing angrily at Oscar.
"It's true sir!" Miss Mercia Raines added. Harry wasn't sure, but he could have sworn that she was dressed as Artemesia Lufkin – the first woman to become the Minister for Magic in 1798.
"Did your book survive? Yours or is it library borrowed?" Harry asked.
"It's my own… and it's okay I guess." Mercia answered, though she looked confused.
"Mr Haines?" Harry turned with a questioning glance.
"I did no such thing. I was falsely accused!" Oscar insisted.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Harry sighed. Oscar would insist he had nothing to do with it until he was blue in the face and then some. Harry couldn't prove it was him, and it to be honest, it wasn't something he would expect of Mr Oscar Haines.
"It's Halloween!" Harry decided. "I have Mr Haines saying he had nothing to do with it, and you two insisting he did." Harry held up his hand to stop Cain butting in. "No mater your argument, I have two sides of the story. We can either debate this all night in my office, or, considering your property Miss Raines, is returned and intact, we can be mature and walk away – enjoying the rest of your day. What will it be?"
After a moment of thought on all sides, the students nodded and decided to let the matter drop. Harry sighed in relief, and made his way back over to the buffet tables. As he glanced up to where he had left Draco, he saw the blond man looking deathly pale. Before he could reach him however, Draco had started his hasty exit from the Great Hall.
Worried that he had ingested poison, Harry quickly took off after him.
"I would have expected this from one of the students Mr Malfoy…" Madam Pomfrey scolded as she handed Draco another potion, magically vanishing the besmirched sick bowl. "…But certainly not from a member of the faculty. You should be ashamed of yourself! What sort of example is this setting the students?"
Draco looked embarrassed more than ashamed, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Draco glared at him.
"Don't look at me like that." Harry defended himself – his hand held up. "I did warn you."
Something about seeing Draco – a grown man who was almost pouting, defeated by chocolate, was almost adorable – amusing and remarkably innocent.
"Mr Malfoy will be perfectly fine – I assure you!" Madam Pomfrey sighed in exasperation. "I suggest you get back to the party Mr Potter. At any rate, I don't think you need to hold his hand." Madam Pomfrey insisted, glaring at Draco before shooing him from the hospital wing.
Chuckling on way back to the Great Hall, Harry remembered Tau's lack of resistance to chocolate too. He wondered if it was a pure blood thing, but then he felt a phantom itch – as if he was missing something. His pace slowed as he came closer to the Great Hall doors, realising that Draco and Tau certainly had a few similarities. He'd had this train of thought before he realised – they were both pure bloods, both had a weakness for chocolate, both around the same age, and-
Harry froze when he walked into the Great Hall, it was deadly silent and everyone was crowded around something in the middle. Any thoughts he'd previously been having, rapidly vanished from his mind to be replaced by an ominous feeling.
Pushing through the crowd urgently, Harry gasped when he saw Miss Camellia Nixon – a fifth year Gryffindor, laying on the floor unconscious and looking rather pale. Minerva was forcing the Wiggenweld Potion into her mouth, but it didn't seem to be working as they had expected.
"Take her to the hospital wing…" Said Harry - firmly, as he bent down beside Headmistress McGonagall. A lump of familiar guilt was twisting in his gut. "I'll sort everything out here with Professor Flitwick and meet you there."
Minerva nodded and levitated Camellia into the air. She thanked him before striding out of the Great Hall. Mr Leonard went to follow her, but Harry quickly used a sticking charm on his feet.
"Stay here Mr Leonard! We need to ask you what happened." Harry explain to the distraught looking fifth year Gryffindor, un-sticking him from the floor once he'd placed a hand on his shoulder. He shared a quick look at Flitwick, who nodded and climbed up onto one of the small round tables dotted around the room.
"Unfortunately, some of the food or drink may be contaminated I'm afraid - Poisoned." Professor – and deputy Head master, Filius Flitwick started. The students looked terrified. "I will arrange for safe food and drink to be sent to your dormitories, and you may continue to honour All Hallows' Eve there if you wish to do so, until midnight. Prefects and/or Head of houses are to escort you all back to your dormitories immediately! You will be informed when we have more news."
Harry instantly saw fault in Filius plan, and quickly used a milder version of the Sonorous Charm before chaos and confusion broke out in the Hall.
"I suggest…" Harry stared, trying not to blush with all the attention now on him. Quickly climbing up onto the nearest chair. "…That all the Slytherins move to that wall…" Harry pointed, and used a spell to send green sparks in the correct direction. "…That the Gryffindors move to that one…" Pointing again, but with red sparks this time. "…Ravenclaws to the wall where the teachers table would be normally be..." Pointing with blue sparks. "… And the Hufflepuffs will gather in the middle." Harry finished, showering yellow sparks over the centre of the great Hall.
Harry swore he had sighs of relief from a some of the student, prefects and teachers as he jumped down from the chair. Filius even muttered, "Yes, good idea Mr Potter, very good, good thinking." As he climbed down off the table.
With that said, everyone quickly gathered at their designated section of the Great Hall, and Harry went to question Mr Leonard.
"What happened Reece?" Asked Harry, his hand returning to Reece's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
"I don't know Mr Potter." Said Reece Leonard, who was fidgeting nervously and clearly worried about his friend. "She was drinking from that cup…" He pointed to the orange cup still on the floor, the remains of the liquid splashed over the stone. "…I think she took the wrong cup though, because I remember her putting it down by the brain cake and it's still there with her lipstick on it."
Harry looked over to where Reese was pointing, and sure enough there was an orange cup with pink lipstick around the top.
"Then she just - she just - - What's wrong with her?" He finally demanded.
"I'm not sure." Harry admitted, gently squeezing his shoulder. "But I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey will have her fixed up in no time. I'll take you back to Gryffindor tower in a moment, I just need to speak to Professor Flitwick quickly."
"I want to go see her!" Mr Leonard insisted.
"Madam Pomfrey will be able to help Camellia better if she's able to work alone. Trust me, Pomfrey only gets stressed when there are other people around. I'm sure you understand that when your stress you don't do so well on things." Harry explained. When Reece nodded begrudgingly, Harry continued. "Good lad. Now wait here a moment."
With that Harry walked over to Filius, who was giving orders to a few of the other teachers.
Midnight was rapidly closing in by the time Harry had return to his room, had a shower, and climbed into bed with mug of hot chocolate. He twisted the warm mug in his hands as he thought back over the last several hours.
A healer from St Mungo's had been called over, and Draco – who had still been in the hospital wing at the time, explained that it was their belief that a more potent version of the draught of living death could have been the culprit. This of course, posed the question of how he knew this – especially when a spell confirmed it to be true. More questions then followed when the Aurors arrived, and it was a giant mess.
Miss Camellia Nixon was quickly taken to St Mungo's, and thankfully they received news that she would make a full recovery. However, Auror Justin Graves, wanted to examine the Great Hall in painful detail, and brutally pounded them all with questions. How they knew what Camellia had ingested? Why some of the staff had strong Wiggenweld Potions on hand? Why hadn't they contacted the Auror's before now – when the possibility of a threat was brought to light? And when they had handed him Mr Silas Avery's school file – Why wasn't this student reported to the Aurors beforehand?
Harry remembered how Mr Graves was particularly interested in Mr Avery. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that the man was shocked at the fact that ex-death eater - Mr Avery senior, had even sired a son. They hadn't yet spoken with Silas - as far as he was aware, but they'd promised to return once they'd reviewed everything back at the ministry. Harry didn't know what they could do however, there was still no evidence to implicate Silas.
Poor Minerva was practically run off her feet: contacting and dealing with Camellia's parents, trying to update the teachers as the evening progressed, speaking with Madam Pomfrey over the floo regarding Camellia's health status, having to deal with one intimidating and forceful Mr Graves – who actually didn't seem to intimidate her all - rather infuriate and annoyed her instead. She also found time to look over her glasses at Draco, who almost squirmed at the stern reproachful look she gave him as he slipped out of the hospital wing like a naughty first year caught out of bed past curfew.
Oh yes, Harry thought with a smirk, he wouldn't never let that memory of the blond go.
And when Mr graves had finally left, Minerva had to inform the stressful house elves that they could now begin clear up, and had to admit that tomorrows lessons had to be cancelled.
Harry had stuck to her side, helping her at every turn one he'd returned Mr Leonard to the Gryffindor tower. He still felt guilty though. It was rather obvious that someone had spiked his drink while he'd been dealing with the altercation between Oscar, Cain and Mercia. If Draco hadn't bolted from the Great Hall when he had - to paint the corridor in the lovely shade that is regurgitated chocolate brownies, then he would have finished his drink and the poison would have gone to him instead of an innocent student. He should never have left his cup unattended. Stupid!
He put his mug of half-finished hot chocolate down on his bed side table and sighed, before reaching into his draw for that familiar magical parchment and quill. He wouldn't expect Tau to respond this late, but writing was much better than letting his guilt twist and fester – he needed the distraction; his mind was trying to dig up old guilt at the lives that had been lost because Voldemort wanted him dead.
Miss Camellia Nixon was going to be just fine, classes were cancelled for tomorrow, and he'd just noticed that Tau had replied to him from earlier. The small smile that graced his lips was instantaneous, as was the warm bubbly feeling inside – dousing out his negative thoughts and feelings.
Message from Tau:
Morning mon Chéri,
My place of work is hosting a Halloween party – that should be rather entertaining.
I picture you hiding away in a dusty corner of house party somewhere, perhaps eating too many puddings and drinking terribly cheap wine.
Did you know that traditionally, All Hallows' eve is the said to be the most potent time for rituals and spell work? It used to be the day that magical families would come together, to protect their homes with ritual based wards, to bless new family members, and regenerate their magical cores by absorbing the heightened magic of nature while denuded of all apparel. Of course, traditionally, the date wasn't as fixed as it is today, and was decided on by the changing of seasons, and on the level of magic one could feel.
Unfortunately, traditions have been replaced by muggle beliefs. It is a shame really. There is something thrilling about baring all to nature and feeling the magic cursing through your veins.
The Muggles have various views on Halloween. Some are interesting enough, but the main concept is that the dead walk among us on this night, or other ridiculous notions relating to death and evil. It is mainly a load of hogwash.
Like I said, it is traditionally a most potent time for rituals, hence Necromancy. A lot of wizards that were proficient in the arts of raising the dead, chose All Hallows' eve to practise their rather creepy talents, and thus the origin to these muggle beliefs. Also, a group of witches and wizards denuding their apparel in woods, forests, and lakes, most certainly birthed a few of the ridiculous stories regarding witches on Halloween. Wizarding apparel back then certainly included robes and pointed hats, but material, design, and expectations have changed dramatically along with knowledge.
I bid thee a most prolific and fruitful All Hallows' eve, mon chéri particulier.
Votre admirateur, Tau x
Message End-
Harry chucked; he was getting lots of history lessons today it seemed and-
He blinked - the phantom itch was back again. What was it he was thinking before he returned to the Great Hall – before everything went downhill?
Blond hair, a weakness for chocolate, pure bloods… NO! No, it couldn't be – could it?
His mind was racing, trying to think of everything he had learnt about Tau over the last two and half months, and everything he had learnt about Draco since he had started working here. His mind halted however when he remembered Le'Amortentia's contract: 'I hereby declare that I will not actively seek nor gather evidence to seek out the identity of my secret Chérie…'
'What if I 'accidentally' found out though?' Harry questioned himself. If was 'accidental' then he wouldn't technically be breaking any rules. Okay, so he would be breaking the rules, but they'd not be able to prove it if it played his cards right.
'There is no way that Draco and Tau are the same guy though!' Harry's brain insisted. It was just too unbelievable. Draco was nothing like Tau and-
'Why not? Is it really so impossible that Draco could possess such charm, charisma, and intelligence?' His mind argued. Was he really so guilty of judging the book by its cover – of seeing what he expected to see when he looked at Draco? Then again, Tau was an illusion he'd created, he only knew what Tau wrote – his mind supplemented the blanks with fantasy.
'…Will you promise to keep an open mind and not forget all the words we have shared on parchment? Will you remember that I am not my past, that I am not the same person I was back then?' - Tau's words
Harry had promised, which meant that – if Tau and Draco were one in the same, that he'd promised that to Draco. He still didn't know for sure if Tau and Draco were one in the same, but there were so many similarities.
He reached into the draw and pulled out the copy of Tau's Le'Amortentia profile: Thirty years old, five-foot-nine in height, grey eyes, blond hair, pure-blood.
Harry shivered; it was exactly the same as Draco bloody Malfoy. He was sure Draco was about five-foot-nine too, because Harry was Five-foot-eight and Draco was about an inch taller than him.
He still needed more to go on – there must be hundreds of people with that combination of looks.
'Really Potter, why so in denial?' His mind chastised in Draco's voice. 'You know that you fancy me. What's not to love?'
'Arrogant bastard!' His mind muttered - realising with horror, that he was arguing with himself. On top of that, he just remembered that he loved Tau's amusing arrogance. They were both arrogant!
He almost headbutted the headboard as he threw his head back. Was he really into tall arrogant pure-bloods, with blond hair, grey eyes, that ate too much chocolate, and had disastrous pasts?
Disastrous pasts… Another confirmation that Draco and Tau where one of the same. Oh Merlin!
He rubbed his eyes and sighed, everything was leading to his suspicions being true, and now his vision of Tau's image – his illusion, was morphing together with Draco's to form one man. He needed to find out one way or another – for sure, and he would need to be careful in doing so.