Chapter 3: Confessions

"Harry's dead."

I picked at the loose thread on my jacket sleeve and bit my lip, unable to face them.

"What?" gasped Hermione.

"How do you know?" demanded Ron.

"Are…are you sure?" sobbed Hermione.

Tears. Disbelief. She had never learned to hide her emotions. I just nodded unwilling to trust my voice. Of course I was sure. How could I not be? The blood on my hoodie was his.

"How. Do. You. Know?" Ron asked again.

I couldn't avoid them any longer. I had been in this room for hours now. I was hungry, and I was cold, though I would be much colder soon.

"Because I killed him," I said.

Stone cold eyes. Stone cold voice. Heart broken into a million pieces.

Hermione stood up with a fire in her eyes that I hadn't seen since third year and slapped me as hard as she could.

"How could you?" she screamed.

I felt my resolve breaking. Could I do this? I wasn't so sure any more. Harry told me it would be okay, that he would see me through this, but how could he? He was…dead.

"Stone cold Draco. You are the Ice Prince of Slytherin addressing your lowly subjects. Make them believe nothing affects you," he had said.

There was a traitor in our ranks and it was my job to sniff the rat out. That traitor was not, I believed, Hermione. But what did I tell her? Not the truth, obviously. Lovers brawl? Jealousy? A hidden secret?

"I won't talk with him here," I said gesturing towards Ron.

"Draco," Hermione began.

"No. This is my confession and I will issue it on my terms. No. Weasels. Allowed."

"Draco, don't be like this! We can help you."

I laughed my cold, cruel laugh.

"Stone cold," I kept repeating in my head.

"You can help me. But not Weaselbee. He can't see two inches in front of his crooked, freckled nose."

Ron looked hurt and I just glared. I never imagined this would be so hard. I guess betrayal hurts once you have friends. It had taken us both time, but eventually we each got over ourselves, and Ron was now one of my closest friends. The thought…the fear...that he had turned on us was almost unbearable.

"Fine, Ferret. 'Mione, I'll be outside." One last glare at me and he was gone.

I turned to Hermione and collected myself. I would go with the cover story we had agreed on. It would explain his sudden disappearances and odd mood swings.

"He was dying anyway," I breathed. "He had cancer. By the time we found it he was too far gone. They gave him six months…that was four months ago. You know how stubborn he is. Was…"

I couldn't fight the tears. No amount of ice could freeze my heart against the pain of his loss, even if he wasn't really gone.

"No!" she insisted.

"He wore a glamour so no one would know. I swear it on my magic. He…he made me promise not to let him suffer. When he started coughing up blood…" I couldn't continue.

The voice in my head, sounding so much like my father, was berating me for my weakness.

"Such a disappointment, Draco. Malfoy's don't cry."

"How—"

"It was quick. Painless. Like falling asleep." Tears were leaking down my face faster than I could wipe them away.

"Draco…the blood…"

I touched my chest where I knew the majority of it would be.

"I couldn't let him die alone!" I sobbed. Damned hormones. "I…I rocked him to sleep. He was choking…I cleaned him up before I left and sealed the flat."

"Draco…"

She was torn and there was my ticket in. I had made my crusade hers without even telling her what we were looking for.

"You know you'll be kissed for this. Mercy killing or not…" she trailed off.

"I know."

What else was there to say? I only hoped the case was solved before my time ran out.

"I need you to buy me time, Granger. Just two months. Then the dementors can have me."

"I can't do that!" she said shaking her head. "You killed Harry! They are making this their number one priority. You'll be lucky to get three weeks!"

"You're smart!" I yelled. "Think of something. They have to give me a trial right? Use that!"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Why do you need time Draco? What are you not telling me?"

"Everything," I thought sadly as yet more tears fell.

"I don't want to die," I whispered instead.

I hadn't told Harry. I couldn't bear the pain it would cause him.

"Draco…"

I reached out for her then.

"Hermione, I need you to promise me something. If not for me, then for Harry. You're the only one I can trust."

I took her hand and stared at it. I couldn't do this. I had to run. To find a way out.

"Draco. You're scaring me."

"Stone cold, My Dragon. Be stone cold," he said to me.

"In Harry's top drawer there is a box. In that box is a key to a vault at Gringotts. I want you to retrieve the key and hide it, and when you are alone I want you to go there and retrieve its contents. Ask for Fanghorn. He will tell you everything."

"Draco what—"

I took her palm and pressed it to my swollen belly just as the baby kicked. I had worn a glamour so no one would know. Especially Harry. Hermione gasped wide eyed.

"Tell him how much his parents loved him. How…how we didn't want to leave him. The Vault will have more than enough to ensure he grows up comfortable. And please, when he is old enough, give him the letter I have left for him. I didn't tell…Harry…I didn't want him to have any regrets."

"Oh, Draco!" Hermione breathed, and then she broke into tears.

I wept for her then. I had, unbeknownst to her, just placed the fate of the entire wizarding world on her shoulders. The tale that Fanghorn had to tell was a fascinating one filled with lies and betrayals; heroes and villains. The letter I had left would be too tempting for Hermione. I knew she would read it as soon as she could get away. Tomorrow, perhaps. While charmed to look like a letter to our son, to Hermione's eyes the letter in our vault would tell her that Harry was in fact alive, but in hiding, and that his continued existence must be kept secret at all costs. It would give her the knowledge that the Order had been betrayed by a member of, or close to, the inner circle, a group that consisted of no more than 20 wizards, and that including her, 9 of the 20 had been cleared. It would not point fingers at any one member, but would encourage constant vigilance in looking for any odd behavior in members of the Order, whose numbers dwindled daily. The miracle that was growing inside of me now just added one more layer of protection to our plan, and I prayed daily that my little family made it through this war alive.