MEMORY VIAL 30: LUPIN'S LETTER (YEAR 5)
After Gryffindor won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, Harry was just as eager as Hermione to commence the celebration in Ron's honor. But there was one person, besides Grawp, who was niggling at the back of his mind, now that the song "Weasley Is Our King" was being turned completely on its head.
Harry pulled Hermione aside from the parade of Gryffindors when they made it back inside the castle. "Tell Ron I'll be up soon, alright? I forgot to tell Hagrid something."
"Don't be long," Hermione said. She simpered at Harry, then broke away to follow the lure of the new version of Draco's song.
Harry peered out the front doors of the castle and watched a troupe of Ravenclaws cross the Viaduct Courtyard, followed by a flock of subdued-looking Slytherins. He hid in an alcove, behind the granite statue of a regal hippogriff, and a few minutes later, Draco trudged in through the main doors surrounded by his friends, Pansy holding his hand and looking sullen. Crabbe and Goyle complained the whole way to the dungeons, while Miles Bletchley accused the Ravenclaws of throwing the game on purpose to prevent Slytherin from reclaiming the Quidditch Cup.
If you're going to work at all this year, Harry thought, looking down at his feet, I need you to work now. I want to see him alone, alright? If he's okay with it, I mean. Harry mentally willed the defunct spell connecting his ankles to the other boy to start working again—to wrangle Draco back—and surprisingly it worked.
Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He recognized the magical pull on one of his ankles, and it was coming from a shadowy recess in the wall not too far behind him.
Pansy stopped beside Draco and gazed up at his profile with large, inquiring eyes.
Draco jerked his head towards Crabbe and Goyle, whose voices could be heard echoing down the stairway. "Go on. I'll catch up in a bit."
"But Draco—"
"I just need a moment, alright?" He waited tensely for her to obey him like she always did; never any problems, never any fights. She was always perfectly and wonderfully in agreement with him.
Pansy mouthed the words "I love you," then strode away, leaving Draco with a conflicted sense of guilt for her sake, and resigned determination to the face the boy who was waiting for him.
After making sure they were alone and that no one else was crossing the Viaduct Courtyard, Draco said, "What do you want? Come to gloat, have you?"
When Draco faced the alcove, Harry peeked out from behind the hippogriff's curved beak. Harry, too, glanced around the Entrance Hall, fearful of Professor Snape showing up. They had to keep things brief, to prevent Draco from getting into trouble, and to keep them both from getting expelled for their careless behavior.
"Hey, loser." Harry smiled at him sheepishly.
"Don't talk to me like that."
"Excuse me," Harry said sarcastically. "Sore loser." He drifted out from behind the statue, shoulder brushing on its granite ruff.
Draco glared at him, disconsolate.
"What's wrong?" Harry stepped into the golden light that was filtering in through the upper windows. He approached Draco in the chary, catlike way he had done at the Yule Ball. "It's not like you're the one who lost out there, is it?"
"You bloody well know what's wrong."
"I seriously can't imagine." Harry grinned from ear to ear, unable to let up on the teasing. "Is this about how you never win the Quidditch Cup? You shouldn't be sad about that, you know. You can always beat my Bludger if you want, or put your Quaffle into my hoop." Harry's cheeky grin faded at the darkening expression on Draco's face. "It's just a joke, Malfoy." But Draco frowned so angrily that Harry went completely silent when he picked up the unwavering iciness of his gaze.
"What do you want, Potter? You didn't come here just to flirt with danger again, did you?"
"I just, uh…" Harry's mind went momentarily blank. Flirting was exactly what he had had in mind, but now he was reluctant to admit it.
"If you've got nothing to say, then maybe you could tell me about this." Draco extracted a letter from his robes and handed it to Harry. The envelope was tattered from careless handling, and it had already been opened. Whoever had opened it had not bothered to properly reseal it.
"Pansy came across this the other day while we were inspecting the post. I told her it was just nonsense coming from those disgusting Muggles you live with, but—" His eyes narrowed accusingly. "Why the hell does it mention me?"
Harry frowned, opened the letter, and quickly scanned its contents. It was from Remus Lupin—not signed, of course, but what was written inside tipped Harry off to the sender, since it explained more of the story that Harry had been told by Lupin and Sirius while he'd been using Umbridge's fireplace.
According to the letter, Snape had sent an owl to Lupin a few weeks prior, demanding to know how Harry had found out about "the werewolf and his bookworm." It also stated that Snape did not trust Harry to guard the secrets of that story, and that he demanded Lupin to either swear Harry to silence or regret it.
Harry swallowed nervously when he read the following words: "I must beg you not to tell anyone about the werewolf and his bookworm. Regardless of how you discovered the truth, you must forget what the bookworm did two years ago, because it's already been forgiven. I should've written sooner. Padfoot talked me out of it, but I couldn't get over feeling like I needed to explain. Besides, there's nothing in this letter to alarm that sterling Headmistress of yours. Nothing but a grand old fairy tale about animals, and I doubt it's worth distracting the Headmistress from all the hard work she's been putting towards you students, to which you ought to be grateful."
Harry gagged at that last part, but supposed it was a strategic flourish, in case the letter ever fell across Umbridge's desk. But Draco was not mentioned at all. In fact, no one was mentioned by name. The letter was perfectly codified, hiding everyone's identity with metaphor and moniker except Umbridge's.
Draco moved closer while Harry continued reading. "Look. 'The snake you're tangled up with…'" He pointed near the bottom of the page and met Harry's guilt-ridden eyes over the parchment. "I never gave you permission to talk about us with anyone."
"Well, I didn't think I needed permission to confide in a trustworthy friend."
Draco huffed. "You really are insolent, aren't you? Worse than a stubborn mule."
"He'd never betray you. I trust him."
"Not like it matters," Draco said bitterly. "Everyone's going to find out at this rate, and it's all your fault."
"What the hell did I do? I told one person, because I didn't know how to handle you and I was desperate. He hasn't told a single soul."
"You exist, Potter. That's the problem."
Harry's heart skipped horribly. It sounded dangerously close to what the Dursleys often told him. But Harry knew his existence was a point of pleasure for Draco regardless of what he claimed otherwise. "Well, get over it."
"What did he tell you, anyways—this friend of yours?" Draco's voice lowered to a whisper. "You didn't know how to handle me, you say? What was his advice?"
Harry's forehead creased as he thought back on that old conversation. "It's… none of your business."
"Wrong, Potter," Draco said adamantly. "Everything you do and say is my business. Everything you think and feel has to do with me."
"You think everything is about you."
"Idiot! I'm trying to tell you I still care!"
Harry followed Draco's glance out the double doors, but no one was coming. He knew Draco was getting anxious, and so Harry realized he needed to get to the point of why he stopped Draco to talk. "Then quit being afraid Snape'll tell your mummy and daddy, and just get on with me again. We were about to, right? You miss us dating as bad as I do. You said so yourself."
Draco considered the idea, but it seemed far too dangerous with his own Head of House keeping an eye on him.
"You want to, right?"
Draco would have nodded, but admitting the truth would only make Harry that much more persistent. Instead, he sighed.
"You know we can be more careful," Harry urged. "He'll never find out, as long as we don't go at it in his classroom. And he's not teaching me Occlumency anymore, so he's not peering into my memories and won't see us when we…"
The blood drained from Harry's cheeks. Uh-oh.
Draco's eyebrows drew together. He took a step forward and opened his mouth, but then recoiled at the sound of approaching footsteps. To their relief, it was only Pansy, red-faced and stringy-haired from a recent scuffle.
"Pansy, what's wrong?" Draco asked, when he noticed how frazzled she looked.
"Blaise got hexed when Dorian and Miles got into it over the Quidditch match."
Draco glared sidelong at Harry as if to say: Don't think I've forgotten what you said. You and I will talk about your Occlumency with Snape later. "If Dorian and Miles were arguing, how the bloody hell did Blaise get hexed?"
Harry remembered when the same thing had happened to him and Draco during their third year, their spells having rebounded onto Hermione and Goyle, instead of hitting each other.
"Their spells rebounded." Pansy shrugged.
Harry grinned to himself.
Draco sighed. "Those bumbling fools…"
"Daphne and Millicent tried to stop the fighting, but Dorian got really pissed when Miles went after you for missing the Snitch when we played Gryffindor." Pansy took a breath after saying that, then looked at Harry, apparently only realizing just then that he was there.
Draco looked at Harry also and weighed his options on how to put an end to their conversation. Deciding it was best to offer no parting words, not even a threat, he tore his gaze from Harry and hurried off to Pansy's side. He put an arm around her, knowing that Harry was watching him do this. "You go get Pomfrey. I'll sort those toddlers out, and hopefully we won't need to summon Snape."
Draco broke off into the dungeons. Pansy started up the main staircase, but glanced over her shoulder at Harry who was scowling at her.
Harry averted his eyes. He was jealous of her steady relationship with Draco and couldn't stand to see them working together like this. He returned his attention to the letter Lupin had sent. Ought to finish this, he thought, before congratulating Ron.
The letter forced him back into the memory he had seen in Snape's Pensieve, so that he walked around teenage Remus in a sort of memory of a memory reconstructed with the minor details he had overlooked the first time around…
While fifteen-year-old Lupin might have appeared to be reading a book beside the beech tree at the lake in Snape's memory, Harry had not noticed the note tucked in its pages, which Lupin had been staring at out of view from all three of his friends.
According to Lupin, he himself had written it, and it said:
"I never meant for you to get caught. Please meet me tonight, same time, same place, so we can talk. I miss reading with you."
The note had never been sent. Lupin had written it, held onto it for a few days, but then destroyed it and felt guilty ever since for failing to extend that olive branch to Snape even months after they'd been caught.
Harry started to wonder if that was part of the reason his dad, James, had bullied Snape while they'd been in school. Having already anticipated that question, however, Lupin's letter said, "No, Prongs never found out, and that didn't contribute to the bullying. Even though he loaned the werewolf his Cloak on some nights, Prongs was completely unaware of the bookworm and happened to think the werewolf was chasing the tail of a she-wolf."
Then, the letter went on to describe when Lupin and Snape had been discovered. "The werewolf and the bookworm were discovered by some Ravens who were on their way to conduct a book raid in the Restricted Section. The werewolf and the bookworm were shamed for being found curled up with each other—and ever since, the Ravens clacked their beaks whenever either of them walked by. Prongs and Wormtail assumed the Ravens were spreading vicious rumors about their friend, and were none the wiser. Padfoot, however, suspected otherwise. Prongs and Padfoot put an end to the bullying by tying strings around the Ravens' beaks. Then Padfoot confronted the werewolf about the truth, but the werewolf begged Padfoot not to tell Prongs, since he still cared deeply for the bookworm and didn't want her—" Lupin had changed Snape's pronoun on purpose "—to be mistreated more than she already was."
But if Lupin had loved Snape, Harry wondered, why didn't he do anything when my dad was bullying him?
It didn't make sense, until he remembered how Draco never interfered when he was being bullied also. And, in fact, Draco tended to join in the mistreatment whenever he wasn't the immediate source of it.
No wonder Snape wants me to stop having a relationship with Draco, Harry realized. He's jealous, and he's covering up that fact by acting like he's protecting us from Voldemort.
Harry had a hard time imagining Snape ever being affectionate with anyone. He tried to imagine Snape "curled up" with Lupin—let alone kissing him, which made Harry grimace squeamishly—but it was impossible. Snape wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes as a teenager, and he did not seem to take very good care of himself, nor did he seem to recognize that a whole world existed anywhere outside of his books.
Lupin had loved Snape and spent time with him in the Restricted Section. But Snape had wiped his hands clean of the whole affair the very moment things got difficult. As soon as a flock of Ravenclaws had snuck into the Restricted Section and found them doing God-knows-what, Snape had accused Lupin of luring him along and forcing him to do whatever Lupin wanted.
Harry's mind turned back toward Draco and how he had pulled away the very moment Snape discovered them…
It was as if Snape had been inspired by his own hurt, banking on Draco nursing a similar instinct toward self-preservation.
He manipulated us, Harry thought. He got the better of Draco and me, all because he's bitter about what happened to him.
It wasn't fair. Harry wished he could confront Snape and tell him off for his cowardice. But he could almost imagine Draco arguing that the net result of that would be a negative.
After finishing the letter twice, Harry made his way to the Owlery to fetch Hedwig, who was hooting contentedly against the dark feathers of Oberon's plumage. He scribbled a letter, intending Hedwig to fly through the castle down into the dungeons to deliver it, but then thought better of it, since he didn't want Hedwig to be recognized, and Draco's owl was available for the delivery.
He wrote:
"Please come this Saturday evening, same time, same place, so we can find a place to talk."
Harry reached up for Oberon, but the bird screeched at Harry and shuffled further back into the alcove he was sharing with Hedwig.
"It's me, remember? Harry. Hedwig is mine."
Oberon pecked at Harry's fingers, unwilling to do a job for anyone but Draco.
"Ouch!" Harry flinched back and frowned at the magnificently colored bird. "This is for Draco, you know. I want you to deliver this to him, just in the dungeons below."
Oberon blinked his enormous eyes at Harry, looking as if the assignment was beneath him. After hooting softly back and forth with Hedwig, however, Oberon's puffed-up feathers deflated, and he clawed his way to the ledge of the stony niche. With a majestic flapping of wings, Oberon bounced onto Harry's arm.
Harry's expression softened with relief. "Thanks, Oberon."
Oberon glared haughtily at him and hooted as if to hurry him on.
"Yeah, yeah, I know… I'm ruining your date. But you can take her along with you, if you want. Just don't let anyone think she is delivering it. Now hold still." Harry tied the note to Oberon's leg, frowning as he imagined all the ways Draco might react to it.
"Potter's obsessed with me," he imagined Draco saying to his friends. "It's rather sad. Lonely stuff that is, being the only queer in school, and none of the girls like him anymore, so he's all alone."
After sending Oberon off with Hedwig, Harry went up to Gryffindor Tower to finally join in the festivities. He lingered by the windows as often as he could, but did not receive a response from Draco all night.
On the Saturday in question, Harry paced in the prefects' bathroom, retracing the useless Line he had drawn a few months prior. Draco never showed up, and he had to wonder if Snape had really frightened him that much.
Ignoring the note he had received, and deciding not to report it to Professor Snape, Draco watched Harry surreptitiously for the remainder of the school year, enjoying the signs of his emotional decline.
Draco's sixteenth birthday came and went without remark. But he felt gleeful when the best birthday gift he could have asked for happened when the fight between Hagrid and Professor Umbridge broke out during the Astronomy exam.
He was eager to witness the great downfall of one of Harry's most cherished friends, and to finally see the half-giant oaf that had infiltrated Hogwarts purged from the grounds. One of his favorite classes would have a proper teacher again, and Harry would be that much less under the influence of corrupt wizards like Albus Dumbledore if everything went according to Umbridge's plan.
Draco watched Harry from over his telescope as the cacophony got worse around Hagrid's cabin. It's happening, he thought. You'll be entirely mine very soon… Draco suppressed his excitement the more tense and angry Harry got while everyone witnessed the proceedings.
"Reasonable be damned," Hagrid roared from the grounds, "yeh won' take me like this, Dawlish!" This pronouncement was followed up by a frenzied barking from Fang.
Draco couldn't help looking forward to his future with Harry, assuming they had one. He wondered if any of his own punishments had broken through to Harry, or if Umbridge would be the one to ultimately crack him. The Gryffindor was stubborn, yes, but Draco knew even animals could be broken, so why not a feckless orphan? Harry had deluded himself into believing he knew better than the wisest of their kind, but something had to eventually get through to his thick skull.
To that end, Draco was not beyond doing whatever it took to ultimately break Harry, even if it meant torture. Even if it meant getting him expelled or hurting Harry's friends; he would do anything to see the boy he loved reformed. That was the only way they could be together, as far as Draco knew.
In secret, in the dark, no one would see them. Harry would eventually see the good sense in everything Draco had done, and nothing in the world would ever come between them when the dust of the coming war had settled. As long as they were committed to blending into society, no one—except Snape and Harry's unnamed confidante—would ever know that they had feelings for each other.
Not even their own wives, should they get married…
Harry. Draco's hand strained around his quill as he stared at the other boy's paling face. We'll be together soon.
"Look!" squealed Parvarti, who was leaning over the parapet away from her telescope.
Professor Tofty began to shout also.
Harry eyes strayed sideways toward Draco for a few seconds. Draco smiled even while the grief intensified over Harry's face.
I promised I'd never leave you, Potter, so long as I have feelings. I'd kill all your friends to have you.
"COWARDS!" Hagrid bellowed. "RUDDY COWARDS!"
A/N: Hagrid's and Parvarti's dialogue are not original to me. Lifted from OotP pages 720 - 722 in the chapter titled "O.W.L.s" to set this scene in the canon more effectively.
P.S. For you loyal FF users, after the lengthy site crash that happened recently, I figured I'd remind you that this fic will always be available on AO3, and it gets updated there sooner than anywhere else. I still love FF, so HP&LoH will remain available on FF as long as FF has a pulse and agrees to host it.