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? HPDM, SSRL
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one
Chapter 21: Vanima
xxx
"Serpentsortia!"
The spell was quickly becoming something of a trademark. Once again, the black snake landed on the tiled floor with a soft thud and string of hisses. Other students edged nervously as it reared towards them, but almost instantly another serpentine voice cut the silence. Harry, at Draco's shoulder, was staring intently at the conjured snake and whispering in those sibilant tones of his. The Slytherin listened with almost clinical interest. He'd heard Potter use that talent only twice in all the time they'd known each other, both incidents in the heat of battle. Now, both of them calm, he found himself rather fascinated by the wave of hisses and breathy whispers that fell from the Gryffindor's lips. He even shivered, a little.
Both sets of hisses eventually ceased, and the black body of the serpent turned lazily and coiled itself loosely around Draco's left ankle, perfectly tame.
"What would any of you do," he began to speak calmly, though with a slight sneer that seemed permanently present in this room, "if I cast this spell when Potter wasn't here?"
No one answered. Instead, he was met with hostile, stubborn looks from the majority of those gathered. A few Ravenclaws looked intellectually interested, curious as to where he was going, and most Hufflepuffs were trembling. But the Gryffindors – the biggest number of people here – folded there arms and stared, unblinking. Annoyed, he looked at Harry with an expression that plainly said, Well? Do something!
Unhelpfully, Harry just shrugged. He, too, had his arms folded, though his attitude was one of detached interest. Draco had seen that look before. Potter was evaluating him, trying to see how he'd handle this 'teaching' lark.
Bugger that, Draco thought, fighting the urge to flip the Gryffindor off.
Fine then, if no one was going to do anything. They were all asking for this. In a flash, his wand was in his hand and slashing through the air, encompassing most of the room. "Oppugno!" The spell, meant to bend the will of conjured creatures, immediately took effect. The snake, which had been twining around him almost fondly, instantly altered its nature. It was moving like a black streak, fangs bared, hurling itself toward its indicated prey.
Harry took half a step forward, opening his mouth to hiss a counter-command, but Draco flung his arm out, catching the Gryffindor across the chest and barring his way. Harry looked at him incredulously, but he refused to acknowledge the blazing green eyes burning into him. He watched the snake move to strike, tense, hoping one of those slow-moving dolts would think to react, rather than waiting for Harry to save them. But his wand was still at hand, ready to Vanish the serpent at the very last second if he really needed to.
It looked like he was going to have to. People were scrambling backwards, murmuring anxiously and fumbling for wands, but the snake was fast, and it wasn't a great distance it had to cross. Ginny Weasley let out a shriek as it set its sight on her, and gave a final burst of slithering speed.
Mentally, Draco cursed and raised his wand to stop the attack. He didn't get that far.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The black creature shot into the air, where it hung, suspended as if in a bubble, writhing helplessly in a very confused manner.
Granger had finally taken matters into her own hands, and now shakily lowered her wand.
Draco tutted. "Finally."
Harry, scowling, reached up and knocked away the Slytherin's restraining arm. Though he'd expected it, even wanted it, Malfoy's teaching methods unnerved him. He'd never be able to take a chance like that, even though the danger was minimum. The Slytherin had done it coldly, unaffected by the risk.
Now, though, the blond simply stood back, withdrawing again and allowing Harry to ease the distress he'd so quickly caused.
Sighing, the Gryffindor stepped forward, walking calmly toward the floating snake and reaching out to it. "Finite Incantum," and the creature dropped into his outstretched hands before coiling its way up his arm to his shoulders.
"Harry, for God's sake…!" Ron gestured helplessly. "This isn't working! He's going to kill someone with this!"
"Oh shut up, Weasley! Try moving yourself for once, instead of letting the – your girlfriend defend you!"
Harry turned to glare at the blond, but it hadn't escaped his notice that Malfoy had avoided his usual insult toward Hermione at the last moment. Hn. Maybe this werewolf thing really was making him more open-minded.
"Are you going to let him get away with this?" Ron demanded harshly, his face flushing a blotchy red, as it always did when he got worked up.
Harry shrugged. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, deliberately being unhelpful, as he had been with Malfoy. If this was going to work, he couldn't have everyone else looking to him for back-up. Besides, Malfoy was supposed to be disliked, so it was counterproductive if he tried to calm every spat and argument that broke out.
"Tell him!" was the redhead's impatient demand.
Harry closed his eyes for a second, silently counted to three, and then shook his head. "Ron… This is the reason he's here. He blatantly has a different style to me, and you all need to know what it's like to face that." He stepped back so he could look at the others. "These lessons aren't just about specific bits of magic anymore. They're about technique, and learning to duel different types of opponents, facing someone who refuses to fight fair, and knowing what it's like to really want to win, to avoid injury, not just messing about with a mate.
"Malfoy's not a Death Eater, but he's Dark enough to train you in ways I can't."
Whispers exploded from the gathering, some of them not so quiet. Harry caught snippets from all around him. "…not a Death Eater?" "Yeah, right." "What's he mean, 'Dark'…?" "…still don't see why he's here."
He supposed it must sound weird; the Boy Who Lived insisting Draco Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater, something he'd promoted almost since they'd been first years. It didn't help that he couldn't give proof without revealing Malfoy's new werewolf status and conversion to the Light side.
On the tail of that thought, it suddenly occurred to him that maybe Malfoy hadn't wanted him to announce his newfound faith in him, for whatever perverted reason. Curious, he turned and looked at the blond questioningly.
The Slytherin was indeed staring at him, but with what emotion Harry couldn't tell. Grey eyes revealed nothing, but at least there was no apparent sign of anger.
He turned back to his audience. "Look, I realise no one likes this situation, much less Malfoy – but, to be honest, that's kind of the point." The snake around his neck hissed into his ear, asking him what was going on and why was there so much tension in the air. He ignored it – her – for the moment and continued speaking. "The door is still open to anyone who wants to leave, but… I think this will be worth it, if you stay."
After a while, it was Neville who spoke up, hesitantly drawing attention to himself. "Harry, I-I don't know about everyone else, but when I said I'd stay last week, it wasn't a light decision. I figured it would get harder with… with Malfoy here. But I don't want to leave." He blushed as soon as he'd finished, embarrassed that he'd spoken so much, and in front of the Slytherin.
"Harry, can we talk to you?" That was Hermione, drawing closer to him with Ron. They'd already argued and discussed this situation he'd asked them to accept back in the common room, the levels of their voices going from hushed, conspiring whispers to screaming matches between he and Ron that all of Gryffindor House had witnessed. That had only been the night before last, and they'd come to a truce yesterday, when Hermione convinced the redhead to give the meetings another chance.
Harry nodded, even as he wondered what Ron was going to protest about now. As much as he understood his friend's reluctance and arguments, he was managing to make an awkward situation even worse. God knows Malfoy wasn't relishing his new obligation, the rest of the DA were wary and annoyed by his presence, Harry himself was nervous, but he knew it was necessary, known it since the idea first occurred to him. He could have used some kind of support, and at this moment didn't even care which corner it came from. Ron's hot temper and stubborn refusal to cooperate were going to be a problem, he could see it now…
xxx
Draco watched the Golden Trio draw away into a corner of the room. Potter, he saw with some surprise, was looking less than pleased, while the other two wore matching expressions of anxiety. He hid a smirk. So the cracks were starting to show…
What a lovely bit of information.
He continued to watch inconspicuously. For some ludicrous reason, Potter was still wearing the snake around his neck and shoulders. It was a small, lithe thing really – not his best work – and its weight didn't seem to bother him at all. Draco even saw his eyes flick toward it occasionally, and had the odd feeling that he was listening to it, maybe even conversing. Didn't it occur to the idiot that it wasn't even a real creature he was talking to? But no, he supposed Potter would only launch into a speech about equal-rights for all those 'unreal' snakes out there – or maybe he'd leave that for Granger…
Shaking his head, he broke away from the surreal tangent and cast a glance around the rest of the room. The protective huddle of DA members had dispersed slightly, and now the other teens stood around in groups of three or four, discussing the events of the meeting.
He hadn't expected Potter to announce his belief that Draco wasn't a Death Eater, and so wasn't sure yet what the ramifications would be. Standing alone at the back of the room, he watched and listened, trying to catch mentions of himself and gage the general opinion. They knew he was Dark – had always known that – but Golden Boy's word must count for something, he thought. But what? It was very likely they'd think he'd managed to trick Potter, or something equally ridiculous.
Then again, maybe they'd believe the Boy Who Lived had worked his magic yet again, and succeeded in 'saving' him.
He failed to disguise his chuckle this time, earning several alarmed and suspicious glances, but he ignored them.
Being a Malfoy, the first thing that had jumped to mind when he'd hear Potter announce his beliefs to all these people, was whether it would effect his social standing in any way. As the Prince of Slytherin, he'd been fanatically careful to avoid being associated with Potter in these last two months or so. All he needed now was for this lot to get the misconceived notion that he was a 'good guy' now…
Oh, the indignity.
And, of course, there would be nothing to stop this bit of gossip spreading, since Granger's contract didn't ban sharing news that didn't relate directly to the DA with the rest of the school. It would be everywhere in a week that Harry Potter trusted Draco Malfoy. Maybe not like him, but trusted him, which was even worse for the Slytherin. He was never going to live this down, if it got out of control.
Well, he'd just have to nip it in the bud, wouldn't he? He'd get to Pansy and Blaise before they heard anything, and tell them – confidentially, of course – that he was beginning a new plot to put Potter off-guard.
He had absolutely no doubt that the rumour of his 'plot' would be round Slytherin House within the hour.
Yes, that would work. Satisfied, he looked back toward the Golden Trio, wishing idly he could lip-read.
xxx
"Why are you doing this?"
Harry sighed loudly, showing his irritation in a way he usually wouldn't with his best friends. "I've already told you. Because he can help us!"
"No, he can't!" Ron bared his teeth in frustration, glaring down at the smaller Gryffindor with flashing pale blue eyes.
Unimpressed, Harry stared back with folded arms, trying to ignore the snake – Vanima – who was asking why she couldn't bite the large creature looming over them. He'd told her no once, but if Ron kept being a prick, he might be forced to walk away, lest he give in to the vague temptation.
"If he cooperates, he could be just as good a teacher as I am." Seeing Ron's eyes fly wide with that statement, he turned to the witch next to him. "Hermione, you know I'm right. In the two meetings he's attended before today, he's managed to catch every single person in this room – including me – off guard. The original purpose of the DA was to prepare everyone for the war. Obviously, I haven't done that yet, if Draco can walk in and frighten the hell out of most people here!"
Hermione frowned, but Ron just gaped. After a while, he managed to stutter out, "When did he become 'Draco'?"
Realising his slip, Harry fought down a blush and feigned exasperation. "Alright, Malfoy then. But that wasn't my point. Ron, think about it. He could have hurt you when you tried to threaten him and didn't see his wand –"
"I notice you didn't stop him, either! What's with that?"
Hermione placed a hand on both of their arms, trying to calm the two wizards. "You're both shouting. People can hear you."
Ignoring her totally, Harry snapped out, "It was a demonstration I thought was necessary! You weren't taking it seriously that I asked him to help. You're still not!"
"Because I don't understand," Ron answered truthfully, failing to keep the whine out of his voice. "We don't need him, Harry. And no one wants him, that's for sure…"
Unbelievably frustrated, Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione beat him to it. She stepped between them, facing Ron and quelling the angry words on his tongue with a single glance.
"Stop it, both of you. If any of this is going to work, we need to be a united front. You know Malfoy would pick up on it if we're not – and whatever you seem to think, Harry, he'd use that fact. Besides, how do you expect the rest of the DA to support Harry, if we don't?"
The redheaded wizard went quiet, glaring at her in that way which said he'd lost and he knew it. How she could do that with only a few reprimands and stern looks, Harry would never know, but he envied the talent.
"Fine," Ron muttered eventually, scowling. "United front, whatever. But if this blows up, Harry…"
"I'll keep an eye on him, Ron. I know what I'm doing." With an effort, he kept from adding, I hope.
Squaring his shoulders, he led the other two into the midst of the other teenagers. Malfoy caught his eye, and he moved to join the blond once again, resuming the lesson.
xxx
With pure force of will, Harry had stopped himself intervening in each spell, curse or 'demonstration' Malfoy felt was necessary, though he'd started to suspect the Slytherin just enjoyed torment. As if he hadn't already known that…
Still, Malfoy proved surprisingly capable at controlling the volatile situations he created. Just like when he'd summoned the snake and set her on the crowd, he kept close watch, ready to neutralise the threat in a second if he had to. Harry was grudgingly impressed, though he'd spent most of the evening on edge, his wand constantly in hand. Sometimes, he'd notice Ron's disapproving looks, but his friend hadn't spoken up again.
Malfoy barely spoke when he taught. He left that to Harry, probably aware that his audience was hostile, and still unwilling to admit he had any real enthusiasm for this. Sometimes, he'd fall back completely and watch as the Gryffindor resumed a somewhat normal lesson, asking if everybody could still cast the Patronus charm, which they promptly did. Immediately, the room was filled with silver light.
Draco, instead of watching the DA, as he was supposed to be doing, learning their techniques, watched Potter instead, with suppressed eagerness. He noticed that the green eyes lit up more than ever when he was explaining something, or encouraging these people who looked to him for help. He looked ecstatic when his class still proved capable of producing Patronuses.
In his mind, Draco put this image next to his memory of the depressed, isolated boy he'd seen earlier this year, and wondered what had changed. It couldn't be these stupid lessons. They frayed Draco's nerves down to a thread and made his temper worse than ever; it was implausible that Potter gained this amount of happiness from them.
It came as a relief to him, and a visible disappointment to Potter, when people began to make their excuses and drift away for the night. Luna left with an airy goodbye, and then only he and the Golden Trio remained. He wasn't sure why he was still hanging around, only that he'd had some vague notion of talking to Harry as they walked back towards the stairs, as they'd done a few nights previous.
Then he cursed himself. What the fuck? When had that thought even entered his head? And how in hell had it managed to stay there without him finding and eradicating it…?
Shaking himself back to reality, he let a sneer curl his lip. There was something wrong with him lately. He was losing his mind, signified by the fact that he was here in the first place.
Harry had been watching Malfoy from the corner of his eye, and noticed when the blond shivered suddenly, looking around as if he was only just realising where he was. He scowled, as angry and haughty as ever – but there was something else there, too. Harry blinked, no longer paying attention to whatever Hermione was whispering to him. Malfoy looked… alone.
He scolded himself for being sentimental, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Maybe it was the lack of Slytherin posse that usually hung off his every word with reverence, but which was now conspicuously absent. Maybe it was the fact that he'd actually worked tonight, put effort into something – though he'd tried valiantly not to show it – and was now standing to one side without receiving a word of thanks from any of them, while Ron and Hermione tugged at him, urging him to leave without looking back.
"Harry, mate, come on."
The Gryffindor sighed, and gently removed his sleeve from Hermione's grip. "You go on ahead, I'll catch up."
Ron's expression cooled abruptly, and he shook his head in silent disgust, before stalking away without a word. Hermione followed, though she threw him another worried, exasperated look.
The slow drawl rose from behind him once the door shut, where the blond leaned moodily against a wall. "I hardly need you to walk me home, Potter." Draco willed away the angry blush that fought to show through, as he thought about the odd notion he'd briefly entertained moments earlier.
"I wasn't offering," came the quick, mildly amused retort, as Harry took a few steps forward.
"Then why are you still here?"
"Why are you?"
They stared at each other, stalemate, until Harry had to smile wryly and dip his head. God, everything was a competition, wasn't it? He opened his mouth to make some such comment, but halted, when a flurry of hisses sounded in the vicinity of the baggy sleeves of his robes.
The werewolf blinked, grey eyes flicking to the source of the noise. "Oh, tell me that's not what I think it is…"
Harry flushed as he raised his arm, gently tugging back the material to reveal a small oval head glittering with black scales resting on the back of his wrist. Vanima flicked her tongue to test the air, then promptly disappeared back into the safety of his robes.
"I thought you Vanished that!" Draco exclaimed before he could stop himself. "You realise it's a conjured creature, right…?"
"I can't Vanish her, she has a name." It seemed a reasonable enough protest to him.
The Slytherin's expression was blank. He shook his head faintly. "How can she have a name? She's only existed for a couple of hours."
Harry shrugged, absently running his free hand over the slim body he could feel under his sleeve, coiled around his arm. "No idea, but she does. Vanima." A thought occurred to him and he looked up quickly. "Uhm, you don't want her back, do you? I mean, I know she's yours, technically, but I figured since you couldn't speak to her…"
Draco's incredulity showed briefly, and again he shook his head, declining. "You're welcome to her. Merlin, Potter, only you would make a pet out of a… a spell."
"Hm. It'll be nice to have someone to talk to."
"Weird," the blonde muttered, mostly to himself. Then, frowning, he added, "Where, exactly, are you going to keep it?"
"Her," Harry corrected automatically, then realised his problem. "Oh."
The dorm rooms were not a good idea. His room mates wouldn't take kindly to a normal snake in their bedroom – one that was originally created by Malfoy wasn't even an option. He briefly thought of leaving her here, then discarded the idea just as quickly, not really sure what would happen if he left a live creature here. The Room responded to the thoughts of whatever was inside, and wouldn't open until that thing left. He might accidentally shut the Room off forever if he left her.
There was nowhere else he had access to – at least not private access, anyway.
Draco watched closely as Potter's face slowly fell. He felt an uncomfortable squirm in his stomach at witnessing the display, and the heartbroken little frown the other didn't even seem to realise he was wearing as the green eyes dimmed and lowered to his left wrist, where the snake hid. Over-emotional git.
"What do you think I should do with her? Let her go in the forest?"
Draco grit his teeth together firmly. No, he would not say a word. He wouldn't, because the idea going through his head right now was positively the stupidest thing that had ever occurred to him ever–!
He let out a long-suffering sigh almost against his will, before murmuring, lowly, "I have a private room…"
Harry blinked at him, uncomprehending for a moment. "Are you… do you mean…?"
Draco glared. "Tell her to stay out of the bathroom, to leave alone anything she thinks is edible unless you give it to her, and if she so much as hisses at me wrongly…"
"Why… would you offer that?"
The Slytherin had absolutely no bloody idea, and was currently reminding himself of that fact. What was wrong with him? It was as if some temporary compulsion had taken over long enough for him to open his mouth and utter those condemning words, and now green eyes were staring at him as if Harry was meeting him for the very first time.
Resigned and irritated, he held out a hand. "Oh shut up and hand her over, Potter. I don't plan on staying here all night."
Without hesitating, Harry extended his arm and let loose a string of hissing, whispery words that slipped through Draco's mind like liquid. Vanima's reptilian head emerged slowly, then began to slither her way onto the arm that waited to receive her.
"She won't bite."
The sound of the Gryffindor's normal voice startled him. Parseltongue entranced him, he was coming to realise. He listened with fascination, amazed when the snake obeyed instantly.
Returning to himself, he snorted. "It would be in her best interests not to." He looked down at the long black body that gripped his forearm and elbow, tasting his skin with a flickering tongue. He touched a gentle finger to the back of her head and traced a trail of tiny silver scales amid the black.
Harry regarded him curiously. Truthfully, he'd never known anyone to be so fearless around serpents. Other than himself, of course. But then, he supposed Malfoy had to be the Prince of Slytherin for a reason.
"You're not going to do anything to her, are you?" he felt the need to check, earning an exasperated glare.
"God, Potter, I'm unpleasant, I'm not evil. As long as she doesn't try to bite me, we'll be fine."
Still absently stroking his new, partially unwelcome roommate, Draco began walking toward the door, Harry trailing behind. The Slytherin disliked silence, so spoke the first thing which entered his head. "How come the Dream Team aren't as glowingly perfect as usual, then?"
The Gryffindor blinked, wondering if Malfoy was always so blunt, even when being civil. "What, Ron and Hermione?"
"And you."
"Oh. They think I'm going off the rails."
The blond looked up, glancing at him to see if he was being serious. "Don't tell me. Because of me?" Malicious laughter hid beneath his voice, barely concealed.
Harry shrugged, apparently not noticing it. "That's one reason. And they don't know I was learning to become an Animagus. Neither have any idea where I kept disappearing to these last months. Probably thought I was self-mutilating or something daft like that. Oh, and thanks to you, they think I'm having one-night stands all over the place because I won't tell them who my 'girlfriend' is."
Draco had to laugh then. Oh the irony, that Potter's friends worried sick over him, while he, supposedly the enemy, knew everything they could have wished to ask.
"It's not funny," Harry insisted, without much force.
"You could always just tell them… well, all but the stuff about me. Why haven't you, by the way?"
"Do you care?"
"No. Not particularly."
The Gryffindor gave him a sidelong look and sighed, deciding to think of the honesty as 'refreshing', rather than so painfully tactless.