Chapter 4 — Veritaserum
Another few days passed. Potter finally showed up to the tent himself, debating with Granger and Weasley about returning with Draco to the cottage Granger had mentioned. During a heated debate between the three of them involving considerations such as killing Draco, binding him into an Unbreakable Vow or physically locking him into a room if bringing him to the cottage, Granger had argued that keeping a constant watch on him in the tent was tiring, unproductive, and that bringing him there would be the most logical option as long as they made sure that he couldn't attack them by surprise. Indeed, even if Draco was to escape, he had betrayed his family and by extension, the Dark Lord himself. Weasley was thoroughly opposed to this idea. His opinion was that Malfoy was part of a greater plan to kill Potter and infiltrate the Order. As these endless debates led them nowhere and they seemed to be running out of time to waste, they agreed to inoculate Draco with Veritaserum. The idea of taking a potion that would make him spill his feelings to the formerly hated trio make Draco consider the possibility of running away in the forest — but he knew that escaping, at this stage, would mean a death sentence either at their hands or at the hands of any Death Eater who would catch him. Besides, his wand was already stored away in Harry's pocket, and he had no idea where he was.
"I'll take the Veritaserum," said Draco.
"As if you have a choice Malfoy," grimly replied Weasley.
"… But please don't abuse it. That's all I'm asking. No questions about silly things like -"
"Your size down there or the number of times you've snogged Dobby's old loincloths, we get it," said Weasley.
Potter didn't say anything. Draco hadn't interacted much with him, but was always surprised by how quiet and stern he had become. As if Dumbledore's death had broken the light inside of him too.
"We won't abuse our power over you Malfoy," said Granger. "Even though you would have done it in our position not that long ago."
It was true. A brief intrusive thought ran through his mind, at the idea of being alone with Granger, giving her Veritaserum and asking her anything, absolutely anything. Have you ever thought about me when you...? A dreadfully heavy stone dropped at the bottom of his stomach at the idea that he might blurt out some kind of insanity of the sort when interrogated under the effect of the potion. He looked away from her, afraid of what his eyes might reveal, and considered running away one more time. Because he had done that when thinking about her. Twice. Once when they were thirteen years old. After the punch. He wasn't sure why. That was the year his hatred for her had burnt the brightest; when his hateful thoughts about her kept him up at night. Those thoughts must have gotten confused with the other natural thoughts coming from his body. The second time had actually been barely a few months ago, after seeing her wild, angry face on the front cover of the Daily Prophet. Both times, Draco had felt immediately confused and ashamed afterwards.
"Alright," Draco said while he could still muster the courage to go through with this plan, wondering if going to the damn cottage was really worth it. "Let's do this."
Draco emerged back to consciousness in a happy, cloudy state of mind. His memory felt hazy, but when focusing he could remember the questions as if remembering a dream. They had asked him a series of differently-worded questions about his allegiance to the Dark Lord, his plans, his intentions towards Harry Potter and towards any member of the Order of the Phoenix, about his thoughts about Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, about Potter again, but also Granger and Weasley. A sudden panic ran through him as he realised that he barely remembered any of his answers. He stared at the trio, and the trio stared back at him. Unexpectedly, Weasley let out a raucous laugh, Granger smiled and Potter nodded his head, as if relieved.
"We're going to the cottage," said Potter. "You're coming with us."
"Just the four of us," grinned Weasley. "Harry, me, you, and Hermione's, um, hair."
Granger furiously blushed and avoided eye contact with Draco, while Potter exchanged a meaningful glance with Weasley, who broke into giggles. Draco decided that he would simply forget about what had just been said. The possibility that he had said something of the sort was so horrifying that he preferred to simply consider it untrue. Her hair wasn't even that nice. Just very long and wild. The only reason it showed up in his dreams was because he had focused on it during Bellatrix' torture session. That was it.
They decided that Potter would keep on having Draco's wand to himself (Potter had broken his), and perform a spell on him that would make him emit a soft buzz at all times, increasing in volume the closer he got to someone. The idea behind that spell was to make sure that he couldn't sneak up on anyone to steal their wand, just in case Draco changed his mind after what he had said under Veritaserum, and decided to attack them.
Draco stared at his arm. It was still covered in thick blisters, but they were now less and less filled with green ink, and more and more filled with regular blood and pus. Yummy. He got up, excited at the possibility of finally taking a real shower and wearing freshly-washed clothes. Granger had performed a Scourgify spell on his clothes to keep them clean, but they were still stained and smelled of mould due to the dampness in the tent. Draco wanted to help them pack up the tent, but decided against it as he remembered that they had probably asked him embarrassing questions despite his explicit ask of them not to do so. So he stayed outside, kicking rocks. The trio emerged from the tent, and as Granger and Weasley folded the tent to pack it in the bag, Potter nodded at Draco, coming closer to him.
"You don't remember anything you said, right?" asked Potter.
"No." Draco repressed the urge to take on his most condescending tone, to defend his pride.
"I didn't realise that you really jumped in front of that knife on purpose. I guess I also didn't realise you weren't happy about what you did to Dumbledore. We thought… I thought it was something you were sort of… proud of."
Draco's eyes widened. Proud?
"Remorse won't bring him back. And we'll never forgive you for what you did. But knowing how much you regret it was enough to convince us."
"How much did I say about regretting it?" asked Draco, fearing Potter's answer.
Potter seemed to hesitate for a second.
"You said you had a plan to… kill yourself to make up for it," said Potter. "That you were going to do it at the end of the summer."
Draco didn't say anything. His plan hadn't been clearly defined. It had just been something he had thought about. A comforting thought about death as a last resort, if nightmares and visions and horrible feelings of guilt still took hold of him constantly. It wasn't as if he had set a date or a method. Why on earth had he said that to his former worst enemies? Draco wanted to bury his head in his hands and disappear. How much more shame could he take without evaporating? Draco gritted his teeth, and put on a nonchalant face.
"Are you sure that was some good Veritaserum? Seems pretty faulty, if you ask me."
Potter stared at him for a second. A mix of surprise and pity, as if he wasn't a child who could be fooled by false pretence anymore.
"We'll see soon enough," he said.
They gathered in a circle around Granger. She held out her arm, still reddened with the scars from Bellatrix's knife. Draco could still feel the empty coldness of the knife wound in his belly, and could imagine what it had felt like to her. Potter and Weasley both grabbed her forearm. She stared at him, holding her hand out. He hastily grabbed it. Her skin was soft and cool. She squeezed his hand hard, between her thumb and the rest of her fingers. For a few seconds, as the pressure compressed his body and numbed his ears, her hand was all he could focus on. Granger's soft hand and her dirt-filled nails. Her blood pumping under her skin. The way she held onto him as if to say, "you're safe now."