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 33: Questions Answered
xxx
At first, Harry had wondered what on Earth he could possibly have done wrong since Snape had last seen him that warranted the Potions Master hauling him up from an unusually tense breakfast table – since he and Ron were officially Not Talking – and marching him towards the door. On his way, the Professor paused and made a gesture at the Slytherin table. Draco, with a look of confusion, got up and followed.
The three exited into the hallway and Harry hurriedly twisted away, making a show of brushing off his clothing. "What did I do this time?" he demanded resentfully.
Snape glanced at him scathingly. "Aside from breathe?" he drawled sarcastically. "...Nothing. We're going to the Hospital Wing, since Lupin is requesting your presence."
The Gryffindor blinked, almost halting in his tracks until Draco gave him a shove. "Remus? Remus is back? He's okay?"
"He's back," was the short answer as the man swept ahead of them.
Harry grinned stupidly and turned to look at Draco, who smiled as if to say, See? I told you. But he frowned seconds later, puzzled. "As relieving as this is, I'm sure," he muttered, "why am I here?"
Snape didn't answer, merely guided them along another corridor.
Harry suddenly clicked, remembering the arrival last night. "Your Mum's here," he blurted out automatically.
It was the Slytherin's turn to stop dead, staring at him, frozen. "...What?" he spluttered, astonished.
"Yeah, she came to your room last night – which, by the way, was when he dragged me back to my dorm."
The Potions Master had walked back towards them when he realised they'd stopped following, and now glared impatiently at the pair. "If you're both quite finished –"
Draco turned on him. "Is that true? Is mother really here? Is she...?"
Snape sighed. "Dumbledore insisted on an interrogation during the night. Whatever he discovered, it would appear he has agreed to allow her to stay. You can ask her these questions yourself if you'd both just move."
She'd been allowed to stay? That could only mean that the Headmaster trusted her, at least to some extent. But what was she doing here? The last time he'd heard from her, she'd been trying to persuade him to return to his father and take the Mark. What had changed?
He was shaking his head, perplexed. And yet, at the same time, such a pathetic sense of relief was creeping into him, insisting that he see her, find out for sure that she was really... that she was really...
She was really here.
He blinked, to find the Gryffindor still grinning idiotically, green eyes dancing. Harry grabbed Draco's arm, tugging, and whispered, "Come on!"
And then he was running ahead, completely ignoring the Potion Master's annoyed reprimand, and what could Draco do, really, except follow? He too barely heard Severus's exasperated shout as he darted past the man, hot on the Gryffindor's heels, both of them racing through hallways, skidding around corners, laughing with pure relief. They terrified a group of Hufflepuffs who were walking down to the Hall, running too fast to stop or avoid them, instead scattering them as they hurtled past, Harry calling rushed apologies over his shoulder and Draco laughing even more – something that almost caused mass-panic amongst the startled Hufflepuffs.
Finally, they approached the medical ward, Harry bursting through the door first and managing to slide to a halt, Draco colliding with him seconds later and peering over his shoulder at their suddenly shocked audience.
Several pairs of eyes had fixed on them and voices had fallen silent. Harry swept a glance across the room, swiftly taking in the occupants of the room. At one side of the room stood the Headmaster, looking amusedly back at them and taking a subtle step sideways to reveal Narcissa Malfoy sitting on one of the beds, looking much neater than he'd seen her last. Opposite them, on the opposite side of the ward, Madam Pomfrey had a hand clutched to her chest in fright, glaring at them, and beside her was Remus, already on his feet and heading towards them.
Harry wasn't aware of the decision to move, only that he was suddenly striding across the room to meet the man halfway, flinging himself into a hug that the werewolf gladly returned. Over his shoulder, Harry closed his eyes gratefully, realising, perhaps for the first time, what it would have meant if Remus hadn't come back.
And with that thought came the flash of anger. He pulled back, expression darkening. "What were you thinking?"
"Harry..."
The Gryffindor took another step back, glaring. "No! You didn't even tell me! I thought you were dead!"
Madam Pomfrey bustled past him, ruining his rather righteous anger somewhat. "Mr Potter, will you stop shouting? We'll finish up here in a few minutes, Professor." Nodding to Remus, she disappeared again.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Finish what? Why are you even here? Were you hurt?"
The werewolf sighed. "Sit down, Harry," he offered, and began his explanation.
xxx
As soon as the Gryffindor bounded away towards Lupin, Draco was left feeling very exposed, the weight his mother's gaze resting heavily on him. He hesitated, not sure what to do. He still didn't know why she was here. Did she intend to try and take him home? And yet, Dumbledore was smiling...
Slowly, he walked towards the pair, faltering yet again when Narcissa stood abruptly. Silently, he berated himself. This was his mother; she was not a cause to act like some spooked animal.
He looked at her properly for the first time then, eyes widening at the sight of her clothes – obviously not robes she'd purchased; maybe even spares from the school – and her hair – unstyled but clean, hanging in loose curls that were usually spelled straight – and finally her face – completely lacking the tasteful make-up she nearly always applied.
No, something was not right. She wasn't here to preach his father's argument.
That decided, he crossed the last stretch of distance between them, coming to stand before the witch, feigning calm. He watched her warily, waiting for the first sign of her reaction.
She smiled tremulously, half reaching out to him.
Of course, being a Malfoy, every instinct he had forbade him the public display of affection that seemed only natural in this situation.
Narcissa, who had not been raised a Malfoy, and who found PDAs perfectly acceptable when it came to her son, grabbed the boy before he could protest, standing on her tiptoes to hug him frantically, touching hair and shoulders, kissing his cheek and thoroughly ignoring his half-hearted protests.
"Mother," Draco muttered with a sidelong glance at the Headmaster, embarrassed. "Mother, please..."
"Oh, my dear, I'm sorry!" she said fervently, without relinquishing her hold.
In vain, he tried gently to remove her, his efforts fruitless. "Mother?"
"Yes?"
"What are you doing here?"
Finally, she pulled back, her expression slightly surprised, as if she expected him to know already. Shaking her head, she let out a sigh. "Your father," she said, with some exasperation, "has lost his mind."
xxx
"But I don't see why you had to go in the first place!" Harry protested, for possibly the fifth time, causing Remus to sigh and rub his forehead.
"Harry, try to understand... I'm just trying to do my part –"
"Your part should be here!" Frustrated, he curled fists in the sheets beneath him, glaring at the older man. "What about being a member of the Order? And... and helping Draco? What about –"
"Being a member of the Order means I have to do this," the werewolf insisted gently. "And of course I'll still be able to aid Draco – though I'm beginning to suspect there's little left I can teach him. Harry, you're just making excuses."
"So?" the teen demanded immediately. "What if I am? I don't want you to do this."
They paused, momentarily wordless, and then Remus shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry. I just... have to."
Harry stood up and paced away, resisting the urge to lose his temper completely. What was so difficult about this? All Remus had to do was say no the next time they expected him to risk his life. It was so simple.
The werewolf watched his companion for a while, carefully trying to find his next words. Finally, he braced himself and prepared to drop the next bombshell. "Besides, there's no longer a choice in the matter."
The Gryffindor whirled. "What do you mean?"
Remus hesitated. He was no longer as fraught as he'd been during the night, after Severus and Poppy had spent long hours dosing him with calming potions and pain killers, but still, he felt a sudden rush of near hysterical fear as green eyes pinned him. Here he was, facing the figurehead of the Light, James's son, and about to bear the Mark of Voldemort to him, forever emblazoned into his skin.
In the seconds that followed, Harry might well have read his mind. Without any other movement, his eyes darted to the werewolf's arm, who clenched his hand involuntarily over the tattoo, still hidden by his sleeve.
Realisation dawned with slow horror over the Gryffindor's face, and he shook his head in denial. "No..."
"I had no choice –"
"No!" Frantic, Harry wavered, not sure whether he wanted to back away from the betrayal or step forward and tear back the sleeve to prove its existence. Instead of either, he stood frozen, wide eyed and pale.
Gathering himself somewhat, Remus closed his eyes and resorted to the script he'd haphazardly put together earlier. "If any of us had known that this would be required... I would never... And Severus wouldn't have allowed... It should have been impossible!" he spat at last, bitterly.
The boy gave no response, and eventually he went on in desperate justification. "I'm a werewolf, Harry. A creature that the Dark Lord considers sub-human. Why do you think Draco defected to the Light? You Know Who would not have made him a Death Eater, he'd have made him a pet. A slave. Severus and I... we discussed the likely outcomes of what would happen should I take on the risks of this mission. Being Marked... should not have happened."
"Then why did it...?" the Gryffindor asked faintly.
Helpless, Remus ran his hands over his face and up into his hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know why I was the exception. I can only think that he didn't trust me after all, despite Severus's best efforts. This..." Haltingly, he pushed back the sleeve and winced to lay eyes on the Dark Mark. "This was the final test."
Harry's eyes flashed. "You had to be willing to take that," he pointed out accusingly, his gaze briefly flicking towards the Mark before darting disgustedly away.
"It was this or die."
They stared at each other, stalemate, until Harry slumped. "What do you mean, Snape's 'best efforts'? Draco was right? He's been training you?"
"Slytherins are too perceptive for their own good. Yes, in a manner of speaking, although it must be said he's done the majority of work himself..." The werewolf sighed tiredly, seeing green eyes darken. "Don't blame him, Harry. He didn't know."
"He let you walk into a Death Eater meeting! He gave you instructions!"
"Without which I would have tried anyway and been killed in the first five minutes!"
"But –"
"It's already done, and it's impossible to turn back now. I'm asking you to accept this, and forgive me, not make a difficult situation harder. Can you do that?"
Harry wanted to rail against the unfairness of the situation, wanted to accuse Remus of being inconsiderate and rash. His jaw clenched as he fought back the resentful words that rose in his throat like bile, eyes bright with tears of barely restrained anger.
"Fine," he spat eventually. "But you have to tell me the... the next time."
The werewolf seemed to deflate in relief. "Of course," he promised quickly, and watched as Harry turned on his heel and left the ward, pausing only to cast a quick, communicating glance at the Slytherin across the room before disappearing from sight.
xxx
Draco saw the look his mate – God, had he slipped into that terminology already? Well, that had to stop. He saw the look Harry shot him, and sensed the distress behind it. There was a large part of him – mostly the wolf – that would have simply abandoned his current conversation midsentence and hurried after the Gryffindor, but he managed to keep the instinct in check, mentally rolling his eyes at his own pathetic reaction. When had he allowed his twisted attachment to the other boy to grow so deep? Surely it could only have been in this last week, when circumstances had made a friendship with The Boy Who lived his only beneficial option...?
He told himself that, even while ignoring his mother's suspiciously raised brow as she witnessed the wordless interaction.
She'd calmed down enough to be recognisable as the woman he knew; reserved and dignified and annoyingly observant. Currently, she was watching him with narrowed eyes, and he felt a pressing need to redirect her focus.
"What, exactly, are you going to do, now that you've... left father?" he asked, since it was a question that had been bothering him anyway. He felt awkward voicing the words, the remnants of Malfoy loyalty in him rising up against what she'd done, even as common sense told him that there was no other option. Quite obviously, marital bliss was a thing of the past for his parents, though, as of yet, there had been no mention of divorce, for which he was thankful.
She looked fleetingly at Dumbledore, who still hovered passively nearby, before responding. "It is a matter we've discussed," she said at last, carefully. "The Manor, it seems safe to say, is indeed off limits to us, the wards being keyed to your father. And of course, the Gringott accounts –"
Draco scowled. Call him shallow, he didn't care, but he'd been hoping his mother had a way to lift him from his status of dirt poor, rather than join him there.
She tutted. "Don't frown, dear; it's unbecoming. And I'm not naive, Draco. Yes, the Malfoy accounts are now closed to us – however, the Black accounts I set aside remain in my name."
His spirit leapt as it had not done in too long. Oh yes, shallow he may be, but he had money again! The Blacks were a wealthy family; powerful and old and pureblooded. Already he felt some shadow of his social standing returning, and could happily have hugged Narcissa again in thanks.
She was regarding him in amusement, indulging him for the moment, when normally she would have scolded such ungracious glee.
"With that in mind," she went on, "there are a few small properties in my possession that I can rely on – although the main Black inheritance, I believe, now belongs to Mr Potter."
Draco looked up in surprise. "Harry? Harry inherited our money? From who?"
But even as he said it, something clicked in the back of his mind. Black. Sirius Black. Lupin's mate. Both he and Harry looking distraught at the start of the year.
The Headmaster was nodding gently. "The late Sirius Black was Harry's godfather. He was killed during the battle last year in the Department of Mysteries. He left everything to Harry."
Both adults were watching him carefully, both of them guessing the thoughts going through his head. His father had been at that battle. Yes, he'd always known that, but suddenly it was all too real. Lucius had been there when Harry's godfather had been killed – probably the only real family he had, since those muggles he lived with surely couldn't be counted.
Disturbed, he shook his head as if to clear it, and looked back at Narcissa. "But... you're okay? You have money?"
She smiled. "I'm as well off as I've ever been, Draco. I should be looking out for you, not the other way around."
He nodded absently, even as his mind drifted. He'd managed to delay his werewolf instinct to go comfort his mate with the urgency of this conversation, but now that he was assured that she was at least financially safe, and would be remaining at the school for the next few days so that he could sort out any other minor details, his attention had shifted back to Harry. He knew the Gryffindor would be waiting for him in his room; he'd seen that in the look he'd given him.
Narcissa watched her son as a frown he didn't seem aware of passed over his face. She sighed, able to guess who he was thinking of, though she didn't understand it any more than Severus did.
"You may go, Draco," she said, not unkindly.
He looked at her gratefully, not even bothering to hide the sentiment, before turning and hurrying from the ward. Thoughtfully, she watched him go, before turning to the Headmaster.
"You still can't tell me what it is that's changed him? Already, I can tell there's something different – the least of which this alliance with Harry Potter..."
Dumbledore smiled sympathetically. "I suggest you confront your son, my dear. All others who could help you have been bound to silence."
Yes, she would make sure to talk to Draco before she left and drag the truth from him if it killed her. What could he possibly have to hide from her that warranted such protective measures as Vows of Silence?
Shaking her head, she cast a glance across the room to see the wolf, Lupin, staring at her. When she caught his eyes, he flushed and ducked his head, looking anywhere but in her direction.
With a shrug, she quickly lost interest and turned to ask the Headmaster where she would be sleeping.
xxx
Draco found Harry lying on his back on the couch, Vanima coiled around his wrists and fingers, held up so that he could look at her as he hissed. He turned his head when the Slytherin entered, blinking owlishly up at him.
Draco coughed, abruptly uncomfortable. "I... Uhm, are you okay?" Slowly, he edged closer, eventually perching himself on the edge of the table, clasping his hands together to stop them fidgeting.
"Fine," the other boy mumbled unhelpfully, frowning.
"What happened with Lupin? I saw you arguing..."
"He took the Mark," Harry said bluntly, not hiding his disgust. "And he's determined to carry on this bloody mission."
Draco's eyebrows rose in shock, and for a long while he sought for something to say, but there didn't seem to be much he could say.
"Your Mum staying here?" the Gryffindor asked abruptly, an obvious change of subject.
"For a few days," he admitted. "Then she's moving to one of the Black properties she's entitled to."
Harry blinked again. "Oh, I'd forgotten she and Sirius were related..."
"Yeah..."
They went quiet as the Slytherin struggled for conversation, trying not to shift with his discomfort and, for lack of anything better to do, staring at Vanima's serpentine movements through the other boy's hands.
"S'pose you've got money again now, then?" Harry asked at length without looking at him.
"Well, I'm hardly back to my former glory just yet, but it's a good start." He smirked, going for humour, but Harry only seemed to withdraw further.
"So you're back in Slytherin good books?"
Draco shrugged. "If I play my cards right. Why?"
The Gryffindor sat up suddenly, shifting the snake so that she could slither off across the floor in the direction of his bedroom and the heating charms that awaited her there. Green eyes flicked towards him, then away again before Harry spoke, and he sat with his shoulders hunched almost defensively.
"So... I guess you don't need me anymore."
Taken aback, the Slytherin paused, his mouth half open in answer. Oh, how easy it was to hear a world of insecurities behind that statement, and how easy it would be to end the predicament he'd found himself in. What would happen if he sneered and confirmed the fear? Harry would go away in anger, but it would put an end to this 'mate' business, surely? If the Gryffindor wasn't around, maybe the wolf in him would cease its pining. He'd obviously gotten in over his head, but here was a chance, maybe his last chance, to extract himself...
When the silence went on, Harry looked up at him slowly. And that, he would think later, was his downfall.
"No," he said, in all honesty. "I don't need anything from you."
The green eyes went wide, as if, even though he'd feared it, he couldn't really believe he was hearing the words. He was frozen staring at the blond, his indignity lodged in his throat.
But Draco wasn't done. Still perched on the table, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. "What are you constantly preaching about? Friends are supposed to be... equal. Well, we're equal now, Potter. No more protecting me – as you think you've been doing this last week, I'm well aware. Let me defend myself to the DA, and to your commoner friends, if I must. And if it comes to curses between me and another Slytherin, for God's sake, let it."
Harry met his intent look with one of his own. "Did it ever occur to you that I was worried about what you'd do to someone else?"
"I do have some self-control –"
The Gryffindor reached up and yanked at his T-shirt collar, pulling it down just enough to see one end of the Sectumsempra scar crossing his shoulder.
Draco flushed. "That... One slip up!"
"Some slip up! You slip up like that with someone else and you'll be expelled for using Dark magic! Or, worse, someone will realise what you are."
Frustrated, the Slytherin huffed and turned away. Bloody Gryffindor was screwing up his selfless gesture. So much for his moment of grace, when he was supposed to be being the bigger person. He was swallowing his pride here! He was risking God knew what by becoming further entangled with this boy, who was apparently his mate – although, at this point, Draco couldn't fathom why.
He glared at some patch of carpet until his companion spoke up hesitantly.
"So. Equal."
He considered sulking a bit longer, but after deciding it unwise given both their current tempers, Draco gave a melodramatic sigh. "I realise it must come as a shock to you, with so many years as my inferior and all –"
Harry narrowed his eyes in exasperation. "Git," he muttered, and smiled.