Title: The Secret's In The Telling
Authoress: Sakuri
Rating: T
Summary: Draco Malfoy, pureblood and Slytherin prince, suffers the unthinkable when he is attacked and bitten by Remus Lupin. How is he supposed to live any kind of life afterwards, especially when Potter continues to stick his unwanted nose into things? DMHP, SSRL
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one
Chapter 8: No Loyalty In A Snake
xxx
Draco felt the very strong urge to be sick.
No, no, no – Merlin, no, this could not be happening! Not without warning. Not so soon! He looked desperately between the lunar chart and the letter, somewhere in the back of his mind sure there had been a mistake. There had to have been!
A shrill screech from the bird had him twitching in fright, and he cast it a surprised look, having forgotten its existence.
"N-no response," he whispered, and watched as his father's owl took flight towards the window in his bedroom.
Marked. His father wanted him to be Marked. His father, who was oblivious to what his son had become, oblivious to what it would mean. And dear gods, he had to pick that weekend, didn't he? Maybe, if it had been any other time…
Draco shivered. But it wasn't. It was then – and there was nothing in the world that could convince him to be near his father during a full moon ever again.
xxx
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk feeling every one of his hundred-plus years. He was tired, and perhaps if they hadn't been in the middle of war, he would have been allowed to rest. But as it was, every time he closed his eyes just for a moment, it seemed a dozen more problems had sprung into existence when he opened them again.
On his desk was Severus's pensieve, and he stared at the swirling silver contents grimly. He had watched the memories of his Potions Master and been troubled, but once again there was so little he could do.
And beside that was yet another of Remus's resignation letters. The older werewolf had been trying to quit his job and flee the castle ever since the incident, though only he and Albus knew about it. The first chance he'd been able to, Remus had come to the Headmaster to personally retire, and Albus had done the only thing he could – denied the request.
He couldn't allow the man to leave just yet, no matter how much Severus yelled and protested and demanded explanations. He would be needed; if not now, then soon. And if Remus was still set upon repentance, Albus felt sadly sure that there would be many opportunities in the coming future.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking. He started, glancing at Fawkes. The phoenix only turned its head towards the office door.
Waving his wand, he watched as the heavy door swung open to reveal the Malfoy boy standing on the threshold, his manner reluctant. In his hand he clutched a piece of paper which he pressed against him almost protectively.
"Mr Malfoy," he greeted, not quite able to keep the surprise from his voice. "Is something wrong?"
The blond entered hesitantly, casting wary glances at Fawkes as he passed, coming to stand on the other side of the desk. Wordlessly, he placed the piece of paper down next to the pensieve. It fluttered slightly as his hand trembled.
Frowning softly, Dumbledore reached out and took the thing, sliding it toward him for examination. A swift inspection told him it was a letter from Lucius Malfoy, and instantly his foreboding set in.
"He wants me to be Marked," the boy whispered, his voice barely audible. He was looking down, unable to meet the old man's eyes. Dumbledore could only guess how much of a betrayal this admission would be seen as. "He wants to do it on the weekend of the next… the next –"
"I understand, Mr Malfoy," the Headmaster cut him off sympathetically. "And such a thing cannot be allowed… if only for your own sake."
The Slytherin gave a twitch that was supposed to be a nod, still staring fixedly downwards.
Dumbledore sighed and sat back, raising a hand to rub wearily at his eyes. Problems spawning out of problems.
"Draco," he said eventually. "Tell me why you have come to me."
The blond finally raised his eyes, darker than ever. "I can't go. You know I can't. If I were to take the Dark Mark, I wouldn't be a Death Eater – I'd be a pet. Worse, probably. I'm almost as bad as a Mud– Muggleborn now."
Dumbledore said nothing at the slip of the tongue – and, more importantly, the correction – merely raising an eyebrow. He steepled his fingers and closed his eyes, thinking.
"And if Professor Lupin had not bitten you several nights ago?" he asked after a few minutes had trickled by. "What would you have done then, Mr Malfoy?"
The Slytherin didn't answer until sharp blue eyes were turned upon him. He flushed and looked away.
"T-the only reason I came to you now is because it's in my own best interests," Draco answered truthfully, if a little nervously. "If… If Father had written to me a fortnight ago, or a month ago, I would have made the choice that was best for me then."
Dumbledore showed no reaction except to go on staring piercingly at the boy, considering the concept of loyalty. There was so little of it in the Slytherin, though he didn't seem at all ashamed by that fact. This was an individual concerned with his own welfare, and prepared to distance himself from anything he deemed a threat – even if that thing was his father. Similarly, if circumstances had been different, the boy might have been happily fighting for the other side right now.
Frowning thoughtfully, Dumbledore idly picked up his wand, placing it in his lap. "Very well, Mr Malfoy. I assume you're here to ask for my protection?"
Wordless, the other nodded.
"Then I am going to ask you to swear to me, in the same way I asked Harry and the others to swear to you. Do you understand? If you agree, there will be no switching sides after this. On the other hand, you will have my protection and my school as sanctuary from your father and any others who work for Voldemort."
Draco swallowed, trying to brace himself. He had expected this. The Headmaster really would be a fool if he was prepared to trust word alone. But even so, the reality of what was happening seemed determined to crash down on him. Merlin, he'd never imagined himself in this position…
"I understand, sir."
The old man nodded firmly. "Good, good, my boy. Are you ready?"
Draco nodded, closing his eyes in something that was not a wince…
Dumbledore stood and began to speak. The magic was audible in his voice. "You will swear to me your loyalty as a student and a wizard. This means you will be expected to do what is in your power to help myself, Harry Potter, or any other member of the Order of the Phoenix if the matter is serious enough. If you cannot help, you will not hinder. You will do what I ask of you, trusting that I also have your best interests at heart. These rules will bind you until the war is truly declared over. Do you so swear?"
Draco wanted to curl up and die with every clause in his contract of loyalty, but when asked, he answered simply, "I swear."
Instantly, the silver star of light shot from Dumbledore's wand and struck him in the chest, as he'd seen it do to all the others who'd sworn secrecy for him. It was warm and heavy, and took long moments of getting used to. He concentrated on the sensation rather than what he'd just done.
Dumbledore was gazing at him with infuriating pity. "I'm sorry, my boy. I know this isn't what you would have wanted…"
Determined to get it all over with as soon as possible, Draco jerked his head towards the letter still lying on the desk. "How should I reply, sir?"
"I suggest you don't, Mr Malfoy. Lucius will realise soon enough that you don't intend on joining him for a weekend visit. I shall make the arrangements for you remain at Hogwarts during holidays."
The Slytherin jerked his head sharply in acknowledgement, before turning and walking back towards the door. He didn't look back, and was silent until he got to the bottom of the spiral staircase which led from the Headmaster's office.
He refused to show gratitude for his own entrapment.
xxx
Dumbledore watched the Slytherin disappear from the office before returning his attention to the first dilemmas of the day. Setting Lucius's letter aside, he glanced first at Remus's resignation, before carelessly tearing it in two and tossing the pieces into the wastepaper basket by his feet. That sorted, only Severus's pensieve remained.
He sighed, using his wand to stir up the liquid memories. Things were certainly beginning to escape his control. Severus had come to him first thing that morning with the urgent news.
He'd known that the day would come when Tom Riddle finally ceased to trust Severus, he'd just hoped that that day would be a long while from now. But no, it was happening already, and any advantage his spy might have provided him with was rapidly spiralling away. Tom had not yet openly turned on the Potions Master, but it was coming. The other Death Eaters despised him – had always despised him, really – but at least they'd once treated him with respect. Well, no longer.
He'd transferred his memories of his last summoning into the pensieve for Albus to view, and their contents disturbed the Headmaster greatly. He didn't know if he could afford to send Severus off again. It was only a matter of time, now, before Tom took it into his head to kill the Potions Master. No, Severus's use as a spy was coming to an end, which only meant he would soon be blind to the actions of the Dark Lord.
xxx
Harry, Hermione and Ron took their customary seats the next morning at the back of the Defence classroom, side by side. Ever since Snape had finally landed the job of DADA Professor, their enthusiasm for the subject had swiftly faded. It was like Potions all over again, only worse, as this was such a ruin of a perfectly good lesson…
"So when's the first meeting?" Harry asked as he rummaged through his bag in search of this year's Defence textbook. Finding it, he dropped the thick volume onto the desk in front of him.
Hermione took out her own book. "Well, I've asked around, and this Thursday seems good for everyone. Is that okay?"
"Day after tomorrow? Yeah, that's fine. Are we still using the Galleons?"
She smiled. "Yes. It's more tradition than anything else, though, since I don't think any of the Professors really mind what we're doing –"
At that moment, the door to the classroom opened and Snape strode through it, his black robes flaring behind him as usual. Ron had always been sure the snarky Professor used some sort of spell for that, though had never been able to prove it.
"Books out, wands away," came the short tempered order as Snape assumed his position at the front of the classroom, near the board. "Turn to the beginning of chapter ten and start reading."
Harry flipped open the cover and was starting to flick through the pages, looking for chapter ten, when he noticed Hermione's hand shoot up next to him. Ron, on his other side, groaned as he anticipated the coming loss of House points.
"What is it, Miss Granger?"
"Professor, you've missed out chapter nine. Last week we'd just finished chapter eight, you see –"
"I'm well aware of where we finished last week, Granger," Snape snapped at her, each word cut short with irritation. "And I asked you to turn to chapter ten."
"But –"
"Ten points from Gryffindor. Care to make it twenty?"
Hermione seethingly fell silent, glaring down at the book as she found the correct page.
Harry didn't know what it was that made him check, only that he was suddenly riffling backwards through the book, searching for the title heading of chapter nine. Finding it, he stared for long moments, before raising his eyes to find Snape looking at him unblinkingly.
Chapter Nine: Identifying and Defending Against Dark Creatures: Werewolves
Harry met the older man's eyes with the same intensity, and in that moment they understood each other. Harry suddenly saw the Potion Master's hypocrisy – outing Remus with this very trick, but protecting Malfoy – and in return, Snape knew he saw it, and could do nothing.
"Well, Potter?" the man said coldly. "Get reading."
Harry frowned but said nothing.