Chapter 6
Draco left Moody's first class on the unforgivable curses feeling sick. Around him the hoard of Gryffindors were babbling in excited voices as if they'd witnessed some kind of spectacular show, but all he could see in his minds eye was the engorgio'd spider twitching in silent agony. He could almost imagine it screaming, in whatever way spiders screamed.
He was so distracted that when he caught sight of Neville, he stopped in his tracks, and Dean Thomas walked right into him. Longbottom was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with unseeing eyes.
"Harry?" Hermione said from beside him "What -? Oh." stepping around him, she'd seen what he was looking at.
"Neville?" she called quietly, walking over.
"Oh, hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"
Draco suddenly realised what was wrong. Hadn't Longbottom's parents been tortured to death by Aunt Bella? And Moody had just shown him exactly how it would have looked. He stared at the round faced boy, unconsciously stepping away. If Neville knew who was really standing here witnessing this in place of Potter…
"Neville, are you alright?" said Hermione.
Draco wanted to leave, but he didn't know how to do it without making Harry look uncharacteristically tactless, or as if he knew something he shouldn't.
"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled, in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"
He caught Weasel throw him a dopishly alarmed glance, but he ignored it.
"The class was quite a nasty display, I thought." Draco said quietly to Hermione, deciding to step in. "If it was me, I might want some time alone after -"
But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them and , and they turned to see professor Moody limping towards them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a lower and much gentler growl than they had yet heard.
"It's all right sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on … we can have a cup of tea…"
Neville looked ready to wet himself at that suggestion, and Draco was almost moved to pity to the extent that he might have suggested that the boy had an emergency appointment elsewhere, but he still hadn't forgotten the cryptic clue Moody had dropped that he knew something was different about Draco Malfoy. He couldn't afford to pull suspicion onto Harry Potter too.
Best keep quiet and avoid attracting attention.
"You all right, are you, Potter?" Moody said, turning his magical eye on Draco.
So much for that.
"Yes sir." Draco said, trying to sound normal. Part of him was still feeling wobbly about the wanton show of illegal spells the man had showed him, but a bigger part felt sick with worry that he had found out his and Potter's secret.
Then Moody said "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending…well…come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."
Draco watched in sympathy as Neville was steered away by a hand that looked like a knotted piece of wood, the boy's pleading glances to his classmates coming to no avail against the fear of Moody.
"What was that about?" Ron said
"I don't know." Hermione replied, and Draco could see from her pensive expression that her brain was working at a thousand miles an hour trying to piece together every titbit she'd ever known about Longbottom to come up with an answer to that question.
"Some lesson, though, eh?" Ron said to Draco as they continued back on their original path to the great hall. "He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -"
Weasel's voice died away as Draco met him with a frosty glare. This buffoon was who Potter had chosen over him? What was wrong with him? Surely he couldn't be that tactless?
Dinner was a silent affair after that. Granger bolted down food, something that she'd been doing a lot recently. At first he'd thought she had just been overly hungry from her house elf rights hunger protest, but it turned out that her new approach was to spend hours in the library researching the situation, including the time usually allotted to eating.
Ron didn't make an attempt at speaking again, so Draco supposed he ought to make the first move.
"Look, I said I'd meet Malfoy for a study session in the library later," he made up "but do you want to get our Divination homework done first?"
Ron perked up slightly "I suppose we'd better." he agreed, then he shot Draco a sidelong glance. "Look, about what I-"
"It doesn't matter Ron, honestly." he gave him a strained smile. Merlin how he hated playing nice.
"Right. Well," Ron said sheepishly "do you want to go up to Gryffindor then?"
"In a minute," Draco said brusquely, getting up. "I need to go and tell Malfoy I'm rescheduling our meeting till later."
More like let him know its happening.
"Ah. Right." Ron looked grumpy, but didn't say anything further.
"What are you so happy about?" Harry asked as Malfoy made himself comfortable on the chair opposite him, a small smile on his face and his green eyes flashing with amusement.
"Granger." was all he said
"What about her?" Harry said cautiously
"She tried to recruit me as treasurer in her house elf liberation society." Draco said, his hair falling over his glasses and he leant down to remove his books from his bag.
"House elf…" Harry said in confusion, then felt a shard of hurt when Draco tried to hide another grin. That was his friend Malfoy had been having fun with. Harry had been sitting alone in his private room staring at the ceiling while he waited for Draco to finish with Ron.
"Granger's decided that abolishing the enslavement of house elves is going to be her project." Draco said. "Can you imagine, if she knew, who I really was, when she asked me to be in her group?"
Harry had to smile a little at the irony of that. "What did you say?"
"I had to agree, obviously. I never thought I'd say it, but at least Weasel has some sense of reality. House elves like being enslaved - you just have to look at them working to know it! Can you imagine, though: Draco Malfoy, saviour of house elves! Father would faint!"
Harry looked around, frowning. "You shouldn't say that so loud."
Draco pulled a face as he too scanned the immediate area. "Whoops." he turned back and learned over to speak to Harry confidentially. "I need to talk to you about that too. I don't think we should be seen being friendly in public."
"You think someone knows?" Harry said
"Didn't you hear Moody?" Draco whispered incredulously "You tell old Lucius I'm keeping an eye on his son?" he added when Harry looked blank. "It was you was talking to!"
"I was - distracted." Harry said, shrugging as his cheeks tinged pink. "In case you forgot, I'd just been bounced around the courtyard in front of half the school. Did he really say that?
"Yes! He must have noticed you acting differently."
"I don't know." Harry said sceptically "He's an auror, your dad was a Death Eater-"
"You need to stop saying things like that too you know."
"Right, sorry. He's an auror, father was a Death Eater-"
"Better." Draco said approvingly
"It makes sense that they would have run into each other in the past and - er - got off on the wrong foot. And Moody's so paranoid - you've seen him sniffing his food before he eats it, and he prepared all his own drinks - he probably thinks my father's still up to his old tricks."
"Still seems fishy to me." Draco said determinedly "And in any case, we mustn't get careless. We know there's a plan in place to kill me, and it's likely that Dumbledore knows it too."
"Well anyway, how are you getting along in Gryffindor?" Harry said, wanting to change the subject.
"Well … Granger's alright," Draco admitted "When she's not being a busy body and a know-it-all. And Weasley's just an idiot. I think tonight was the only time I've spent with him without wanting to kill him."
"Really?" Harry said, interested "What did you do?"
"Divination homework." Draco said with a small grin, and Harry's stomach twisted in envy at it "It was brilliant. We had to make a prediction for every day of the month, based the positions of the planets. So we made up a month's worth of appallingly unlikely accidents, though I think I may have predicted my death twice…" he tailed off, looking thoughtful.
"Right." Harry said, a little too sharply "Well shall we do some studying then?"
Draco looked up in surprise. "But you haven't told me how Slytherin's been for you?"
Harry shrugged. "It's all right. Nothing special. It's weird not having close friends. I spend most of my time in my room alone."
"I miss it." Draco sighed, looking mournful "I miss being able to shower without four hairy, smelly people with me. Where's my quill?" he began rooting around in his satchel "We really should start with your Arithmancy. Potions can wait, I can't have you losing marks in my favourite class. But anyway, I do miss the clean smell of my own rooms. Gryffindor smells like a pig sty."
Harry had to stifle a snicker. "Well I suppose it would be a bit different, when you're used to a private bathroom…with lavender bubble bath."
"It helps me sleep!" Draco said indignantly as he fished out a hippogriff feathered quill.
Harry laughed, then stopped as he remembered something. "Actually, there was something else I meant to tell you about."
"What is it? Here." Draco shoved some parchment at Harry, then began rifling through one of Harry's textbooks.
"Sirius Black."
"What about him? He's not still after you, is he?"
"He's innocent, and he's my godfather." Harry said quietly. He wished he could write to Sirius. It almost physically hurt, every time he remembered he didn't even have a god father anymore.
"Really? I don't have to meet him, do I? Draco said, looking anxious "I'm still not really used to this, and-"
"No." Harry interrupted, sighing "But he does write letters occasionally, and you'll have to write back."
"I'll just give his letters to you, and you can do it." Draco shrugged "That way I don't have to worry about him being suspicious of my handwriting."
Harry gasped "I didn't even think of that!"
"You've not been writing letters to Moth - your parents, have you?" Draco said suspiciously
"No - it's just that - what if your friends saw my class notes - and what if Ron and Her-"
"I just write as messily as I can, that works." Draco said snidely "But you really should work on your penmanship. You need to try and imitate my writing. Well, you can use my Arithmancy notes from last year to copy from." he patted a large pile of parchment beside him.
"And what should I do about your parent's letters?" Harry asked "I've only got a few so far, but I just put them in the desk drawer-"
"You've not been ignoring them, have you?"
"Well I wasn't going to write back, was I?"
"Why not? At least to mother, you should be trying to act like me at least -"
"Well I'm supposed to be pissed off at them anyway. What exactly am I supposed to say in a letter to my parents when I've only just found out they're alive? Back off dad, let me live my own life?" Harry said hotly. "Not exactly how I pictured my first words to my parents."
There was an awkward silence.
"They're not that great, you know." Draco said to the table "You shouldn't - don't get your hopes up. Telling him to back off is probably not such a bad idea…at least until the summer. Maybe we can figure out a way for you not to go back to the manor."
Harry didn't answer. He didn't really know what to say.
"I suppose it's for the best," Draco continued "if you'd written back with your handwriting…"
"It's just hard." Harry found himself blurting out. "You know, I should be happy my parent are alive. And then I am, but I remember that they're not exactly -"
"What you hoped for." Draco finished, fiddling with his quill.
Harry sat in silence for a few moments, feeling utterly miserable.
"Arithmancy, no?" Draco said awkwardly.
Harry blinked rapidly before he could look at him and nod.
Harry groaned as soon as he saw the writing on the envelope. He untied the letter from the owl, and shoo-d it out the window with his hands. It just wasn't destined to be a happy day today.
First of all, he'd already been awake for four hours, but he still had an hour to go until class. He'd been woken in the middle of the night by another letter from his 'father', who was perhaps now trying to irritate him into replying. Unable to sleep, he'd spent the night lying awake feeling miserable about disappointing his parents before he'd even spoken to them properly.
He cast a dark look towards his desk drawer. He refused to open them without Draco. God only knew that they could be cursed with something nasty. He hadn't exactly been a model son to Lucius so far.
After one last glance at the clock on his bedside table, he abruptly moved through to the bathroom. Perhaps a bath would calm him down.
As he turned the taps and added Draco's lavender bubble bath, he cast and appreciative look over the room's he'd inherited. At least not every part of Draco's life was strange and unwelcome.
Whatever he'd made out to Draco last night, it was nice to be alone sometimes. His bed was not only elegantly carved out of dark, antique wood, and hung with green and silver silk, but it was also all his. He didn't have to shut his belongings in his trunk, he could arrange them on the tabletop, hang his clothes in any of his cupboards. Draco had had much more clothes than Harry, he could tell by the three large wardrobes, but it was nice to have space. His trunk was at the bottom of his bed, but it was almost empty.
Harry had felt very strange, arriving in a strange bedroom, and unpacking Draco's belongings as if they were his own. As he'd hung expensive, tailored outfits in the cupboards, he'd marvelled at the various jewelled buttons and pins that he would be wearing with them. Wearing Draco's hand me downs was certainly more enjoyable than wearing Dudley's. He remembered unpacking the small, ebony carving of a dragon which he'd placed on his study table; a spindly, graceful piece of furniture with a built in inkpot and an expensive set of quills already inside the top drawer. He'd wondered what the dragon meant to Draco, and where he'd got it.
When they'd swapped trunks on the train, Harry's thoughts had immediately gone out to his own personal possessions; his photo album, his invisibility cloak, the marauder's map…he wondered what Draco had made of them, whether he'd looked through Harry's trunk yet.
He couldn't help feeling a bit lost, knowing he could no longer sneak out after curfew so easily. Which reminded him, he'd have to tell Draco about how to use the map. It wouldn't be good if Ron or Hermione wanted to use it and Draco had no idea what they were talking about…
There had been a small box at the bottom of Draco's trunk, but Harry hadn't touched it. He knew Draco had thought ahead enough to know that they should swap trunks before school started, so it made sense that he'd have hid all his private things in a box, rather than scatter them amongst his clothing where Harry would have seen them all while he unpacked. Or maybe Draco was just a tidy packer, he didn't know.
By the purple bubbles floating out of the bathroom door, Harry knew the bath must be getting full, so he gritted his jaw and picked up the letter. Scowling at the spiky handwriting on the front, he ripped it open. He was used to only seeing that handwriting in red ink, and all over his homework.
Draco,
Come to my office tonight. I realise there are things you would rather keep to yourself, and believe me, I won't force you to tell me of them. I apologise if I appeared pushy last time, I am only worried for your sake. I, of all people know what it is like to have problems you cannot share, and I know it is only a hindrance to have others questioning you at every turn.
Know, Draco, that I am here for you if ever you need a listening and unjudging ear, whatever the situation. If you do choose to divulge your problems, understand that I will keep them to myself. I will see you after dinner.
You can trust me,
Severus
Harry sighed, dropping the letter onto the floor, and walking through to the bathroom, a simple but elegant room with a white tiled floor. It had a bath, a sink with a large mirror above it, and a toilet. There was one small window, like a submarine portal almost, because it was set quite far into the thick stone wall, and it looked out into green water, for evidently this part of the dungeons was under the lake. It was nowhere near as large and impressive as the common room window though. He began to take of his pyjamas.
Honestly, he wanted nothing more than for an adult to take care of this problem, to fix it all, make everything go back to how it had been. But he was old enough to know that it would only complicate things. He stepped into the bath water. It was a little warm, but he got in anyway, slowly, so that his body would get used to the new temperature.
Even if he could pick one person to tell, it would not be Severus Snape. The potions master could promise to keep his mouth shut until he was blue in the face, but as soon as he found out it was Harry Potter that he was wasting his thoughts on, everything would change.
He needed to speak to Draco about all this soon, but for now, he was going to try very hard to think of nothing. Sitting down in the water, he sank below the lilac bubbles, and immediately felt relaxed.
Now Gryffindor could do with one of these.
Question:
Don't you think its weird that Moody comforts Neville in this chapter in canon when he's actually one of the people who was involved in torturing his parents? Do you think he regrets torturing Frank and Alice or does he just get twisted enjoyment from toying with their son?
Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters, they belong to JK Rowling. I am not making any profit from this fic, it's purely for fun.