A/N: I love working. I also love working late and on weekends. At least, I love it on the following payday. That is why this chapter is being posted at night instead of the morning. At least I'm still posting it on a Sunday.
One curious thing. I was reading from Uncle John's Bathroom reader and they had some interesting statistics. Physicists have the most stable personalities of any occupation. Only 16% display any kind of mental disorder. Poets are the least stable at 87%. Fiction writers are second with 73% showing some kind of mental disorder. I wonder what would be the result if they redid the survey to include fanfiction writers?
Chapter 29: One More Meeting
The most amazing thing that Draco felt when he awoke was peace. He knew he had woken several times before, to be plied with various potions before he fell back to sleep. This time was different. He was not becoming conscious. He was waking up. And the world seemed a wonderful place.
He did not open his eyes at once. He relaxed first, feeling the warm sun on his face. He could feel her stirring, the comfort she seemed to exude, as the dragon knew he was awake. Satisfied he could not sleep any more if he tried, Draco opened his eyes.
Professor Duracam was standing in front of him, at the end of the reclining chair he was lying on. From the colour and shape it was probably a reconfigured bed from the infirmary. And Professor Duracam was smiling, both that he was awake and that the dragon chose to trumpet the fact.
"Is she still mothering you?"
A laugh. "More like helping a member of the family. She knew I was in over my head. Just wanted to make sure I was fine before she left. She's going to clutch soon."
Professor Duracam looked over his head. "That explains the other dragon. I guess he's the papa."
She backed up as a dragon's head came into view. It wasn't Mum. This one was bigger. He was looking at Draco as if to say, "It's about time." A hoop was clearly visible behind his head. Draco had to ask.
"Where am I?"
"The Quidditch pitch. Everyone agreed it was a good place for dragons. The teachers and students think it's keeping the dragons in. I'm willing to wager the dragon's think it's keeping the teachers and students out."
Draco nodded. He then asked if he had been out here the entire time. She said yes. He slept better when they were close. Also, the dragons caused less of a commotion if Draco was near. They seemed to understand that people weren't food, but they were still curious every time Draco was taken inside the school. A dragon peeking into third story windows did not inspire confidence. Duracam's grin told Draco that she was telling the truth.
"Are you ready to eat?" Draco nodded. "Will they follow?"
Draco paused. "Not if they're eating as well."
Draco did not have to walk. His recliner floated along as Professor Duracam pushed it, much like a muggle wheelchair but much more comfortable. They paused as they reached the entrance to the team rooms, because several cheerful house elves were running out with the food. One of the elves was Kreacher. He stopped to make sure Draco was fine, that he was healthy, grabbing Draco's good hand with both of his. His happy tears were enough to cause Draco to give a few of his own.
"Where are we going?" It was the obvious question. There were too many possibilities to guess. The infirmary? Gryffindor? The Great Hall? Would they have him sit at his table in his pajamas? Dumbledore's office was another possibility, a slim one. It ranked just below going back to Saint Mungo's.
Madam Pomfrey was waiting at the steps to the castle. They were going to the infirmary. She claimed it was because she wanted her bed back. When Draco asked her why she met him here, Pomfrey told him it was to make sure she saw that he was healthy. When Duracam asked her, "how many?", she answered only a few dozen. She managed to get them to wait inside with the argument that the dragons might follow.
"You're fit, but stay in that bed until I say so. You'll be safer."
Madam Pomfrey opened the doors. Hagrid was standing there, like a guard. He beamed at Draco and started to step forward. Madam Pomfrey hissed at him to remember what he was doing and Hagrid blushed.
"Step back, All o' yeh. Give 'em room, now."
As Hagrid stepped backward, so did the students although they did it mostly to get out of Hagrid's way. The bed/chair floated into the entrance hall and Draco found himself riding a gauntlet. Students had lined up on either side to watch him pass by. He knew most of the faces. Most were curious. Vince and Greg were there with crooked smiles on their faces. They clearly did not know if they should be happy or mad. They probably decided on happy because Draco had given them so many chances in previous years to deliberately hit people.
Theodore Nott was next to them. He was smiling, calling out, "welcome back, cousin," as Draco floated by. A girl, a first year Hufflepuff was listening as an older student was saying he brought dragons with him to fight you-know-who. Colin Creevey was near them, with his brother, Dennis, next to him. At least, Draco assumed it was Dennis. All he could see was the top of the boy's head. Someone called out from behind him that they didn't follow. A low moan of disappointment went through the crowd. The best guess was that they wanted to see if the dragons tried to get into the school.
As they reached the stairs, Fleur Delacour was there with Charlie Weasley. She made them stop so that she could lean over and hug Draco, giving him a quick kiss on either cheek. Charlie laughed when Draco looked at him, and held out his hand.
"Welcome back."
Charlie apologized and held out his left hand so they could shake. He then turned to a figure at the top of the staircase. "He's all yours." When Draco looked up, he saw Viktor Krum standing there. Charlie was saying that Viktor did not appreciate losing.
The chair stopped again when it reached Viktor. The grim Durmstrang student eyed Draco's hand carefully. He then nodded his head as though deciding something. He smiled as he looked Draco in the eye. "I am sorry. You should have known. Ve vill tell you later."
The crowd thinned quickly after that. Most of those who gathered at the top of the staircase were younger girls from the various houses, and they were there for a rare chance to get close to the famous Bulgarian Seeker.
"Mostly curious," Professor Duracam said as they left the students behind. "Those Slytherins scared me, the way they were looking at you, Draco."
"They're supposed to hate Gryffindors, except me of course. They're never sure how to act when other people are around."
"And what Sirius Black told us has nothing to do with it?"
Draco cursed himself. In his happiness at being alive, he forgot that Sirius Black had a week, maybe more, to tell his version of what happened. And Draco did not know what that version was. Most of what Sirius witnessed was while Draco was on the ground in pain.
"Will I get to hear about it before they ask me?"
"It's a given." That was Madam Pomfrey. "Even your friends were warned not to say anything. I told you before, Draco. This is too important. I will follow the Minister's orders."
When they entered the infirmary, there was another crowd of people waiting. Everyone that Draco wanted to see. Hermione, the twins and Angelina were there from Gryffindor. Justin, Billy, Cas and, it was a bit of a surprise, Cedric Diggory represented Hufflepuff. Uncle Severus was there for Slytherin. Not to be left out, Ravenclaw also had a representative in the reception committee. His date for the Yule Ball, Luna Lovegood.
Most were congratulating him on making it back alive. The exceptions were notable for different reasons. Professor Snape was carefully watching everyone, as though he was the guard on duty. Luna was sitting in a chair reading a newspaper, upside down, as though being here was enough.
Draco's bed, still a chair, floated to its usual spot. That was when he finally had a chance to talk to everyone. Hermione, tears in her eyes, told him at once that she was sorry for all those things she said while he was recovering. Draco searched his recent memories. There was one, a vague blur that could have been her, and a lot of incoherent noise, at least to him.
"I don't remember anything, 'mione. No need to apologize."
She seemed so grateful for what he said that he promised himself two things. He would never reveal he was telling the truth, and he would never ask what she said.
Angelina and Cedric seemed to be there only to be part of the welcoming party, although Draco saw each of them glance at Professor Snape on more than one occasion. On the other hand, Fred and George were loudly exclaiming how they knew the winner of the Tri-Wizard Tournament ever since he was a little boy. Justin clapped his mate's good hand and told him how glad he was. He also told Draco that his hand would be fine in a few months.
"What? But . . ." Draco exclaimed that his hand was cut off by a magic knife. Madame Pomfrey corrected him. The knife may have been sharpened by magic but it was not enchanted. She paused, not looking away, then added that he could expect it to ache almost all the time. He was going to be grumpy a lot as a result. But the hand would grow back. Fred helped by adding his own assessment. "Now you have to learn to use a wand with your left hand. THAT will be fun to watch."
"You two still friends?" Draco asked Billy when he had a chance.
"Harry thinks Cas is a spy . . ."
"I am a spy," Casper said evenly.
Billy laughed, "Harry won't say anything when he's around."
"And I'm around all the time. It's great. I can help a friend just be being there."
Draco joined in the laughter. It did feel good. Someone forced a chocolate frog into his hand. Someone's twin brother said it was the best they could do since the invalid's uncle wouldn't let them bring in butterbeer. All in all, it felt good to be back, even though Draco knew it couldn't last. On the other hand, there was a beetle crawling among the leaves of the plant near his bed.
It was the next morning. Draco had showered and dressed and was waiting for Madam Pomfrey's final examination. Once that was done, he could head off to breakfast. His first thought when he left the infirmary was that it was wonderful luck to wake up from his injuries on a Saturday. It meant that, even though Saturday was spent in the infirmary, he still had one more day before going back to classes. As he felt his right hand twinge, his next thought was that he should have asked how many months before it healed.
The good feeling did not last. Professor McGonagall was waiting for hin outside the Great Hall. She had a message for him. He was to see the headmaster once he was done eating. It was not an unexpected request.
Inside, he had barely sat down when his breakfast appeared in front of him. Bangers and Mash. Hermione commented that someone was happy he was back. Draco nodded as he went to pick up his fork. He stabbed one of the sausages and took a bite. He sat down the fork to pick up his cup of juice. Having one hand was already becoming a bother.
"You coming, too?" Draco asked. He told her he had to see the headmaster. Hermione said it was expected. The Minister was seen arriving early this morning. Draco asked. The minister for Magic was still Bartemius Crouch.
Hermione was surprised that he asked. "What happened is proof that he was right all along." She paused, as though remembering. "Sorry, I wasn't supposed to say that?" She had to explain. Everyone was told not to discuss what happened that day until after Dumbledore had a chance to talk to Draco. The reason given was that they wanted to be sure he told the truth. She added in a whisper, "They think Sirius Black lied about something."
Draco knew at once what the lie was. How he lost his hand. How could anyone have greeted him warmly on his return knowing he gave his hand willingly? True, the alternative was death. Also true, almost anyone he could ask would say they would rather have died. Now, Draco was in a quandary. He couldn't ask what Sirius had said without revealing where the lie was. He would do the one thing no one would expect. He would tell the truth. All of it.
There were more people at the meeting than expected. At first, Draco expected it to be only him and Dumbledore. After hearing about the Minister, he assumed it would be a meeting of three. The numbers grew as Draco stood up. Cedric Diggory stood up at the same time. So did Angelina Johnson, who told George Weasley he would not tell anyone what it was about, him least of all. Both walked quickly to join him as he left the Great Hall.
"You zee," Madame Maxime said to Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour, "We are not late."
Six of them walked up the staircase where Professor McGonagall was waiting. She led the small procession. Fleur gave a cry of delight as Charlie walked up. She hugged him as Professor McGonagall told Angus McFusty he was not part of the meeting.
"I've got two dragons outside that say I'm part o' this, lassie. Ye nay ken the trouble I'll cause if ye try an' stop me."
"At this rate," Draco said with amusement, "we could have held this meeting in the Great Hall."
McGonagall replied, without amusement, "It seems you are correct, Mister Malfoy."
"Why Charlie Weasley?" Draco asked Angus as they began walking again. The man had decided he was the boy's personal escort. "He's a bright lad. An' he knows how to throw his weight around."
Draco nodded when he suddenly realized something. He glanced back at Charlie to make sure he was right. And he was. The long hair was now a short stubble, the same cut the McFusty clan had. One thing he also noticed as he looked back: Fleur didn't mind the new haircut at all.
Professor Snape was waiting for them at the statue of the gargoyle which marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He raised an inquiring eyebrow at Angus and Charlie but said nothing to them. Instead he turned to the gargoyle. "Turkish Delight."
"Quite a crowd," the gargoyle commented as it jumped aside.
Everyone went up the circular escalator, as Draco liked to call it. When Draco reached the top, the doors to the office were open and everyone was walking forward. He entered and saw the rest of the group. The headmaster behind his desk and the Minister sitting on one side. Sirius Black sitting off to one side with Remus Lupin. Behind the Minister sat an ugly plump woman who was familiar.
The Minister spoke at once to the man who had followed Draco into the hall. "You are not part of this meeting."
"I am now," Angus said angrily.
"Everyone else is here because they have something to contribute," Crouch said, haughtily. "Tell me what you have to contribute and we'll let you stay."
Angus grinned without mirth as he pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from inside his robes. He shouted, "THIS," as he threw the paper onto Dumbledore's desk. Draco could read the large headlines upside down.
VOLDEMORT RETURNS
It was with a sense of pride that Draco watched all the blood drain from the Minister's face. The man scanned the paper quickly and muttered, "all of it? All of it's here?" He turned and glared at Draco.
"Yeah," Draco replied to the unasked question. He left it at that. The bastard could rot for all he cared. Dumbledore, however, didn't seem as surprised as he should have been.
"For the benefit of anyone who hasn't read today's paper," Draco said cheerfully, "which arrived late to the school for some known reason," he smirked at that part, "I will now tell my harrowing tale. Where should I start?" He deliberately looked at Dumbledore instead of Crouch. When Dumbledore showed his irritation, he calmly added, "This is your office, Sir."
"Then start at the point you grabbed the portkey," Dumbledore said in an even tone. He was not amused by what Draco had done, but Draco had issues of his own and didn't care. He stood there and told in detail everything that he remembered in the graveyard, including why there were things he couldn't remember clearly. As he explained why he agreed to sacrifice his hand, Cedric Diggory became the one who spoke the expected line, although most of the others were thinking it.
"I would rather have died."
"Ah," Sirius Black said, casually, as he ticked off his fingers, "but, Cedric, your name's not Malfoy. You aren't fourteen. You have two loving parents. You have the respect and admiration of the people around you." He touched his thumb, all the fingers of one hand raised. "And you weren't already bleeding and wounded when given the choice between life and death."
Cedric looked away from Black, glancing at Draco. Draco shrugged.
"Can't do anything if I'm dead, you know." He forced himself to smile as Cedric looked up again. "It wouldn't have made any difference. There was someone else there who was happy I took his place. And Sirius was there to take my place. At least, I'm alive."
"There is that," Cedric acknowledged grimly as he lapsed back into silence.
Minister Crouch cleared his throat. "There is one more matter we need to discuss. What happened after Sirius black left, before you appeared at Saint Mungo's."
"You could simply read the paper," Draco said in an offhand manner. "Oh, you want the truth. Voldemort introduced me to the Death Eaters as his newest disciple. He then asked me if I needed any help in escaping. I told him no. Then I invoked a portkey. End of story."
Draco was smiling. "And now it's your turn. Why the large audience? Is it because Remus Lupin lied to me?"
"I thought I had a better idea," Lupin said with regret. Everyone here was a part of it. He paused, looking directly at Draco. "Most of the plan was in place before I talked to you, you know. Unfortunately, it all depended on anyone else winning the cup."
Draco remained standing as he was told how the other champions and their heads were taken into confidence. There was a great risk, knowing the cup was a portkey. A tracking spell had been placed on it. Once it was used, Aurors waiting in Hogsmeade would apparate to the site where the champion arrived. Voldemort would have been seized in his weakened state, when he could do little harm.
"I think I know the rest," Draco said. "You can correct me if I'm wrong. Minister, you gave a rambling speech so that there was plenty of time to set a trap. To make sure I did not return."
"That you did not return in time," the Minister corrected.
Angus McFusty stood up, red faced with anger. "By throwin' 116 harpies at him? Plus however many were burned to ashes or eaten by the dragon? If we didn't follow at once, both boy and dragon would have been dead."
Crouch stood up, as angry as McFusty. "I never approved such a thing." He turned to the woman behind him. "Dolores, what was my exact wording?"
Draco smiled as he remembered. The woman who walked in on his birthday party. Apparently, his godfather was wrong. She did find a way to advance herself. A woman who would do anything for the man who would dare to command anything.
"Minister," the woman said in her high squeaky voice, "I have the parchment right here." She reached into her robes. "By order of the Minister for Magic, any steps deemed necessary are to be taken to ensure that Draco Malfoy is unable to complete the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament." She rolled up the parchment. "I admit that I was excessive, but the boy's death would have been a blessing in disguise. And there were 140 harpies in all, in case anyone is interested."
Minister Crouch stood frozen in disbelief. The students were yelling in anger. Sirius Black stood up and marched toward the woman, his own anger apparent. Professor's Duracam and McGonagall were trying to restrain Angus McFusty from getting to the woman first.
To his credit, Professor Dumbledore pointed a finger at Charlie Weasley, who was also getting to his feet. Black was stopped by Dumbledore saying, softly, "Sirius, please."
"Hem, Hem," Dolores said, as she stood up, "I'm sorry to say that I was only doing what I was asked to." He voice showed she was not sorry at all, except perhaps because she was not successful. "I have the Minister's permission in writing. To be quite honest, I cannot be touched."
"You are dismissed," Crouch said, carefully controlling his voice. "Your services are no longer needed."
Dolores smiled. She stood up and walked toward the door, wishing everyone a good day. Severus Snape made it a point to open the door for her. She smiled at him, then turned back to the others in the room. "At least there is one gentleman here."
Despite what everyone wished him to do so, Snape waited until she had cleared the doorway before closing it quietly.
"Could've at least slammed it on her rump," McFusty muttered.
"I hate theatrics," Severus said, coolly, as he resumed his seat.
"I love them," Draco said, "provided they have a purpose." To listen to him, no one would think he felt anything about that woman even though she admitted she tried to kill him. Draco was more interested in what was about to happen. He had one more question to ask.
"This could ruin me," the Minister was saying, more to himself.
"Minister, I'm curious," he drawled, "Who put the tracking spell on the cup? The one that didn't work."
The Minister, still stunned, looked at him in a daze. "My son did. He was so upset that it failed he left a message that he returned to London at once," his voice became bitter, "rather than face me."
"Oh," Draco said casually. "Is he still in London?"
Dumbledore was looking at him. Draco understood what that look meant. The man had his own plans for Barty, Junior. But he had his own plan and everyone else be damned. He felt Uncle Severus's hand on his shoulder as the Professor softly whispered, "don't."
"I just remembered," Draco said carelessly. A mental push was made at his shields. He knew it wasn't an attack, but a warning. A request not to do what he was about. "Someone showed shortly before I left. Someone without a mask."
The Minister was staring at him. Draco knew he didn't have to say anything else. What that Dolores woman did would not ruin the Minister, but what Draco was about to say was sure to do that very thing. A glance at Dumbledore. He now had a resigned look on his face. Uncle Severus had slipped his hand from Draco's shoulder. "Professor Crouch made a quick stop on his way home."
The Minister nodded. He quietly mumbled that he should be going. Draco deliberately gave him his best smile as he walked by. As the door closed, Draco waited for the uproar to follow. He couldn't help thinking to himself that it was done. What his godfather wanted. Chaos would erupt. And Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Lived, was now very important to both sides in the upcoming battle. Come what may, he would survive.
"Why," Severus Snape whispered.
"Why not?"
"It would have been very useful," Dumbledore was saying as an admonishment, "to have a known spy in our midst. We could have fed him a great amount of misinformation. The Minister could have been removed once we had the right people in place."
Draco was distracted for a second. He suddenly had the feeling he need not be angry anymore. He casually looked at his pickle watch.
"I don't care, Professor." And he meant it. After all that Crouch had done to him, after this last escapade, he had no remorse for the man. But he did have revenge.
There was a sudden furious knocking at the door. Professor McGonagall opened it to find a frantic Professor Sprout.
"Pomona, what is it."
"The dragons," Sprout said between gasps. "The woman who came here with the Minister had just left the castle. They flew out of the pitch and . . . the smaller one . . . ATE HER."
Draco felt someone tap his arm. He looked up at Angus McFusty. They both smiled.
