A/N:

Greetings, Ladies, Gentlemen, and variations thereupon!

December is officially upon us, and with it comes the Christmas holidays and a whole boatload more writing time. Updates will (hopefully) be more frequent and some new fanfics of ours are on the way (wink wink). However, not all of them will be Harry Potter… We'll leave you guys to guess what we'll be doing.

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Disclaimer: anything recognisable belongs to JK Rowling.

09/12/23

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DavidoDaVinci

Chapter 15: Pureblood

"You see, Minister, there was a large outcry after Harry disappeared. I'm sure you remember that."

Fudge nodded. "It was hardly unnoticed."

"After a lengthy investigation, he was presumed dead. They stopped looking," said Lily, a hint of regret in her voice.

Fudge's eyes widened. "Presumed dead? I hope you don't mean to tell me that the boy's alive…"

Lily nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. A lone tear trailed down her cheek.

The Minister for Magic was shocked. "And… he's here?"

Lily Potter mumbled something unintelligible and Dumbledore sighed.

"About two weeks before school began, it came to my attention that he had been invited, and was, therefore, alive."

The minister looked at Dumbledore for a moment, before saying, "Well… if he wasn't killed… then… well… that's good news… right?"

"I mean," he said, flustered, "How can that be a bad thing?"

"Because," Dumbledore answered wearily, "He's alive, having been taken by Lord Voldemort, which is practically impossible."

"So," Snape continued, turning to face Fudge, "If the Dark Lord took the boy not to kill him, why did he take him in the first place?"

Fudge stuttered, "Well, I-I thi- believe that you would have p-p-put a lot of… thought into that… Dum-bledore."

Dumbledore nodded. "He says he was brought up in an orphanage, and I have nothing to disprove this, so I have been forced to assume he is telling the truth."

"Well, he could have been… taken… or something…"

Dumbledore nodded once more. "I am almost certain he was. That's not what worries me."

…

As Harry walked through the second door, he found himself in another hallway. This one was similar to the previous one, only there was a distinct lack of symbols.

Harry walked over to the door, and waited for the question. Nothing happened.

"Uh… Harry?" Draco asked, looking worried, "Why isn't it asking a question?"

Harry closed his eyes, "Of course…" he spun round. "You said it wanted personal information… Draco, it wants personal information from you."

Sure enough, as Draco approached the badger-like knocker, it asked him the last question he wanted to answer.

"Draco Malfoy. Do you have a crush?"

Draco looked at the ground. "This cannot be real."

He muttered something unintelligible, and Harry looked at him, concerned. The thing with Draco was that when he was unhappy, or angry, or blah, he didn't like to speak. Harry tried being optimistic.

"Well, it doesn't ask you who if you say yes…?"

Draco looked up. "I suppose… yes…"

But as the door swung open, Draco's sadness was forgotten.

…

"You see, if Voldemort stole Harry at the age of one, then, whether or not he is now alive, then, if not to kill him, why do it? Also, if he really wanted Harry, why did he not kill anyone in his way? The thing is, minister, that's not generally what happens with Voldemort."

"And what would he want with the boy anyway?" Madam Pomfrey piped up.

Dumbledore nodded. "Possibly to hold him ransom, but then, what would Voldemort want from us? No. I believe that Lord Voldemort took Harry Potter, because he saw that, if he had him, he would have an advantage… though, of course, that gives more questions than answers."

Fudge leaned back, uncomfortably, "And you called us here to discuss this?"

Dumbledore smiled, faintly, "Precisely."

…

Inside, there was an enormous room. It was just about the size of the Gryffindor common room, as scouted by himself and Draco. It was circular, with a domed roof. The walls were lined by stone, with four pillars supporting it. The floor was a dark coloured wood, with the odd rug, of varying shapes and sizes. There were three armchairs, two on one side, one on the other. There were bookshelves, lined with hundreds of books, potentially stolen from the library long before, there was a mirror on one side of the room, and, at the end of the room, there was a magically burning fireplace. It was…

"Perfect," Harry grinned.

As he looked around, he realised that Draco was already boundlessly jumping up and down the room, laughing.

"What do you think?"

"Draco, I'm gonna be blatantly honest… I think we've got a new hideout."

Draco punched the air. "Woo!"

As Harry inspected the place, however, he found something interesting. You were able to make the mirror side to one side, which opened up a hidey hole, which, unlike the rest of the room, looked untouched. However, the room itself was not looking too good. Everywhere you looked, you could see cobwebs and dust, and there was a lack of things to fill the empty space.

"You know, Draco?" Harry asked, thoughtfully.

"What?" Draco asked, looking up from the patterns on the pillars.

"I think this place needs some refurbishment."

Draco grinned, "Alright, boss."

They spent the next half an hour dusting things off, before calling it quits and heading off to the dormitory.

'Ah well. I can tell him tomorrow.'

…

After school the next day, Harry headed down to the room, which he was keen to find a name for.

He found Draco waiting there, and spent a couple of minutes dusting around and putting some cushions that Draco had found in the Hufflepuff common room on the chairs.

After a while though, both boys slumped down into opposite chairs, and Harry felt he could no longer put it off.

"Do you know something?" Harry asked.

"A couple of things, yeah," Draco answered, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Harry licked his upper lip, thinking. "Hermione wears a locket around her neck all the time."

Draco looked up at Harry, before looking back down again. "Oh. Does she? What's inside? Probably her filthy muggle parents," although Harry noticed there was a twinge of regret in his voice.

"Inside are two things. A picture of her mother…"

"So…?" Draco asked, confused.

"…And the Potter family crest."

Draco laughed, "So you're related to the mudblood?"

"Ah," Harry answered, "But is she really a mudblood if that family crest is there?"

Draco stopped short, a look of hope dawning on his face.

Harry chuckled. "I knew you liked her!"

Draco's normally pale face flushed bright red. "I-I… Alright, fine. I like her! Happy?"

The dark haired boy grinned. "Very," Then his expression turned sober.

"I have…" he said, carefully, "... a plan."

Draco nodded.

"You see, Hermione is, clearly, related to me, and she is very gifted…"

"…She could be very useful." Draco finished.

Harry smiled. "You saw that one coming,"

"Yup," Draco popped the 'p', grinning back.

"If it's gonna happen, though, it needs to be gradual. As it stands now, if we tell her, she will A: Tell Dumbledore or B: Never ever speak to either of us again."

"So you want to get her into the dark arts," The blonde boy summed up.

"Basically," Harry leaned back, relaxed all of a sudden.

"So… you don't mind, then?" Harry asked Draco.

He blushed. "Of course not."