Loyalty and Ambition

This chapter was posted a day early because I got five reviews, largely thanks to Dracolover on Ao3.

Harry:

Harry couldn't remember feeling as dead inside as he did when he called for Dobby. Hermione had left a brief note for her parents, explaining she'd been there to use the computer and that she missed them. Then they locked the door. When Dobby appeared, his energy was such that Harry felt as dead as a doornail. But he smiled and thanked Dobby for being so kind as to pop them to and from Hogwarts twice.

Hermione asked Dobby to keep where they'd been a secret. She and Harry had already decided to say they were simply having lunch out and about, and Hermione hid the DVD in a Muggle shopping bag.

They popped into the Slytherin common room, figuring it would be full of people less likely to mention Dobby had been popping them in and out. And it was, but it also happened to contain Milicent Bulstrode, who'd been advancing on a shivering third-year former Ravenclaw. When Harry and Hermione appeared, Hermione had a half-second to come up with an excuse. "Hogwarts told me what you were doing," Hermione said, putting her hands to her hips. "Milicent, you know better."

"No, it didn't," Milicent said. "Don't lie, Granger. The castle doesn't tell you nothing."

Hermione huffed. "Let him go, and knock it off."

"Or what? You'll expel me?"

Hermione fumed. Harry tried to meet her gaze, then decided to plow on ahead. "Yeah," he said. "I'll expel you. How about that?"

"Harry," Hermione began.

"Go ahead," Milicent said. "This place has gone to the dogs anyway. I've told me mam to pull me for homeschooling next year."

"You can go wherever you want!" Hermione said. "But you cannot keep picking on Muggleborns. They're an integral part of this house now, whether you like it or not!"

"They don't belong," Milicent insisted. "And neither do you."

Salazar Slytherin thinks otherwise, Harry thought. But it seemed to him that Hermione did not want him to fight this battle.

Hermione sized Milicent up. "You know what I think?" she said. "I think you're threatened by their skill. You bully them because they have a better chance than you do of getting ahead."

Harry's fingers started tingling. There was a distinct trap in her words. He had gotten the same feeling several times before several dangerous situations. His fingertips were itching for his wand.

Milicent thought about this and looked angry. "They can't get ahead of me," she insisted.

"Oh really?" Hermione asked. Her ambition was starting to light her up again. Green was a really good colour on her. "Because I happen to know that Arthur here has talked about beginning his own newspaper and publishing a book he's already begun writing. Are you that ambitious?"

Milicent puffed out her chest. "I'm going to work in the ministry," she said.

"Which department?" Hermione replied. "Because you were picking on Nathaniel too, and he's already got a job there and plans to become Head of the Department of Mysteries. And Zacharias plans to be Head of the Department of Magical Law enforcement if Susan Bones doesn't beat him out for the position. Then he'll be Head of the Improper Use of Magic Department. Maybe you could end up working on one of their teams?"

Milicent was going purple and rather reminded Harry of Professor Umbridge when the toadlike woman wasn't getting her way. "I'm going to work for the minister!" she said.

"Well, I'm going to be the minister!" Hermione shouted. "And if you want to work for me, then you can have the position of running for my cuppa every day."

Milicent looked quite shocked at this declaration. It took her several seconds to begin breathing again. "You can't be minister – you're Muggleborn!"

"There's no law that says I can't," Hermione said. "And if there was, I'd change it! What are you going to do about it anyway? You've not got the marks to be minister."

A few students had descended the stairs and were watching this conversation with rapt attention. Harry recognised purebloods and Muggleborns. Students who'd been switched in and students who'd started here. He decided to have a seat and watch the show. Hermione had never seemed so attractive.

"Maybe," Hermione said, "you ought to be working on yourself, Milicent. Because it seems to me that you're falling behind picking on people. And true Slytherins will only take that as encouragement to prove you wrong."

"No, they won't," Milicent said.

"Oh, yes we will," said Isabella Monroe, who was one of the oldest people to have switched houses. "Someday, I'll be living in a big old city, and all you're ever gonna be is mean."

She took weird breaths in between the sentence, and Harry got the sense she was quoting something.

"All you're ever gonna be is mean," Arthur, the former Ravenclaw repeated.

Someone else repeated it, though Harry couldn't heat who. Then another person. And then, to Harry's surprise, a Pureblooded second-year put her hand in the air and said, "all you're ever gonna be is mean."

They chanted it as a room several times. Not everyone joined in and honestly, there weren't many students around. Maybe thirteen. But Milicent looked thunderstruck. Hermione looked on, very proud of her housemates. She looked at her watch. "Right!" She said. "We're the house of ambition. Let's all prove we've got more of it than anyone. I, personally, am going to go be on time to my Arithmancy class so that I can get high marks and pass my exams and graduate the smartest witch who ever lived. If anyone cares to rival me, I welcome the challenge, because I'm ambitious enough to win."

Harry thought this was indeed very ambitious for someone who had learned her best female friend may have an IQ of 210.

The common room dispersed. Arthur thanked Hermione as he hurried away. Hermione was, truly, about to begin running late for her Arithmancy class and still in her Muggle clothes. She waved goodbye to Harry and he barely managed to catch her and ask her to open the Slytherin door so he could make it to his common room in time to change and make it to Divination before she was up the stairs and gone.

Divination had settled back to being mediocre once they'd gotten their hands on the prophecy, but Harry enjoyed sharing a table with Ron most days. They made snarky jokes about the crystal balls and the tea leaf shapes.

Today, it was incense reading from smoke shapes. Ron and he huddled close together. "What'cha see?" Ron muttered.

"Voldemort's head blowing up," Harry said. "And Umbridge turning into a toad."

"Right," Ron said. "Well, I see the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain's medal."

"Can you be prefect and captain at the same time?" Hermione and Draco had been told by McGonagall that they would not be considered for the roles of Prefect or Head Boy or Girl while they were Heads-in-Training and Harry still had not decided who was more disappointed.

"Maybe my senior year?" Ron asked. "Or, I dunno, I've heard of them changing Prefects for sixth years."

There was a moment of silence. Harry watched the smoke curl. "Mate," he said. "I have no idea how I'm going to pass this exam. I think I saw more in my crystal ball third year."

Now that he thought about it, he'd told Trelawney his third year, during his exam, that he saw a hippogriff flying free. And she'd said, "oh, I'm sure you did your best." And he'd been right. He really ought to remind her of that. Maybe she'd give him extra points or something.

Ron settled his head on his hand. "Maybe neither of us have futures," he said glumly.

Harry was surprised at the dismal tone of voice he spoke in. "Mate, is your breakup going that badly?"

"Sh!" Ron glanced furiously across the room, where Lavender Brown was sitting with Parvati and with her back turned completely towards Ron.

"Sorry," Harry whispered. "Why'd you break up?"

Ron shook his head. After a moment of silence, he turned his attention back to the smoke. He thought of everything going on. Rosalie may be an international brainiac with four names. Ron seemed depressed out of his mind. Hermione had just fought Milicent Bulstrode with house pride. And in the smoke, he thought he saw a curl that reminded him of hers. He pointed it out. "That curl looks like one of Hermione's."

"Brill," Ron said, dully. "Is it your wedding day?"

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable with the idea. "We're only fifteen, Ron."

"But, you like her, don't you?"

Harry thought about Hermione, always lugging around some project. Declaring she was going to be minister for magic. Pulling on one of her new curls with a smile. He found himself mirroring that smile. "Yeah," he said. "I wouldn't mind if it worked out."

"Great," Ron said, in an even more flat tone than before.

And Harry realised why Ron had been so short with him. And he suddenly had a suspicion of why Lavender and Ron had called a break.

He felt guilty, but kept his mouth shut. Ron had never said anything to him about liking Hermione and Harry had never said anything to Ron about the same. And even though he'd had his suspicions, he'd made his choice. And he rather liked being Hermione's boyfriend.

Another curl of smoke caught his attention. And in the middle of that smoke he thought he saw, for a moment, Hermione's outline. He could assume it was her from her hair. But then she was gone. The smoke burned straight up for a moment. Harry blew at it. It spiralled away and Harry glimpsed the outline of the vanishing cabinet. He leaned forward.

"Alright," Trelawney said. You can blow out your incense now. Write your findings down and turn them in to me for marks."

Harry pulled a piece of parchment out of his bag. He wasn't going to blow out the incense right away, but Ron did. So Harry, without further comment, scribbled down some vague comments on what he'd seen.

In the Founder's joined room, Rosalie had thinned the board down to the proper thickness and then taken a permanent marker and copied each of the runes over in a perfect likeness to the damaged original board. She had not carved it yet, but all Draco needed to do was follow her marks and it should be fine. A bucket of Muggle stain that matched pretty darn well had also been left by his workstation. Rosalie herself was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Draco, but Harry knew Draco hadn't seen it yet because Rosalie had left a note on the board explaining what she'd done and Draco would have hid it if he'd been through.

He wondered if Draco would be mad about the extra work, then figured that wasn't any of his business.

He snatched up his transfiguration homework and headed out.

He arrived in class in just the nick of time. As he made to take his seat, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. He looked up. She held two letters. So he detoured and went to take them both. Then sat beside Ron and opened them as quietly as was possible.

The first had the Hogwarts seal on it. When he opened it, he found a short letter from McGonagall explaining that the Defence position had been filled, and thanking him for stepping up to assist during the odd time there was no defence teacher. It even told him that he could use his time on a future resume and McGonagall would recommend him for a job if he asked her.

The second had no markings, but Harry felt a knot in his stomach because he realised it was written on paper, and very few people used Muggle paper.

Harry, the letter read.

I'm writing to let you know that I've been released from the hospital. Your headmaster says we can't go home. It's destroyed and too vulnerable. He's helping set up a place for mom and I.

Dad's dead. Mum's pretty bent out of shape about it.

We're cleaning out the house on Saturday. I don't know if you can leave school, but I wanted to ask if you'd come. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I'd have died in my bedroom if you hadn't come to push me out and into the car. I get that you probably never want to see me again. But I thought I'd ask. If you want any of my stuff, or if that funny red-haired man who asked Dad about radios would like any of my stuff, we're planning on giving most of it away. Apparently a lot of Muggle stuff doesn't work with wizard stuff, but maybe he'd like it anyway.

A nurse showed us your article in the Quibbler. I don't understand much of it, but it sounds like you were already fighting against the people who attacked us. That's brave. I hope you win.

If you don't come, thank you for saving my life. I should have treated you better.

Your cousin, Dudley.

Harry stared numbly at the letter, and then got to his feet. He had no idea how he was supposed to focus on Transfiguration after reading that.

Where was he going to go, in the summer? His aunt was still alive. Would he go back to live with her? It sounded almost as if she and Dudley were going to be living in the Wizard World. Harry wondered how that would work. He wondered if Dudley would take it well.

He wondered if Dudley's wound had scarred. He still hadn't seen Hermione's, but she was still wearing bandages.

Professor McGonagall stood to begin the lesson and Harry put the two letters away. Nowadays, all teachers talked about was OWLs, OWLs, OWLs. The homework was starting to die down, but it was hard to focus on anything but OWLs with all the talk about it.

Hard unless you'd just gotten a letter like Harry had. He had a rather difficult time trying to focus on how to turn a hamster into a tea saucer and back. The hamster looked as if it were having about as good a day as he was, anyway.

But he did know someone who was having a worse day, he thought as he shouldered his bag after class.

Draco had made it into the Founder's room by following Hermione, who had left afterwards for her block of Transfiguration. He had begun carving into Rosalie's drawn-on runes. He had a spinning tool in his hands and a paid of protective goggles over his eyes. Harry shut the Gryffindor room and then went to sit on the closest chair he could to Draco. "I need some advice," he said. "Was wondering if you could talk for a moment."

Draco glared. "Of course I can talk," he said. "But I'm not your therapist, Potter."

"Yeah, but you're the only person who could probably understand," Harry said.

"You're just coming to me because I'm a Hufflepuff now," Draco muttered, so soft Harry almost didn't catch it. He furrowed his brow.

"Of course not, Malfoy. I'm coming to you because you're a prick." He could not tell if this helped Malfoy's mood or not. "I got a letter from my cousin. Apparently they're moving house after the attack last month. Asked if I could show up. He wants to thank me for pushing him in the car."

"Right," Draco said. "And you have a difficult relationship with your family."

"That's putting it lightly," Harry said. "They kept me in a cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven."

This finally got Draco's undivided attention and he stopped carving and put his tools down. "Run that by me again, please," he said.

"My Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. They'd lock me in without food."

Draco looked absolutely astounded by this revelation. "And he wants to see you? Now?"

"Yeah. On the day they're moving house. He said I can have some of the things they're trying to get rid of."

"You're joking." Harry had never seen Draco look so shocked. "So, they lock you in a cupboard, you save his life, and he wants to repay you by letting you help him move house and by giving you things he doesn't want?" He shook his head. "The audacity!"

Harry hadn't thought of that. That Dudley may be inviting him so that he could help them move their things out. And whatever they didn't want, they'd pawn off to Harry. He'd just seen it as Dudley trying to offer something when he recognised he had nothing of value.

"So you wouldn't go?" Harry asked.

"Merlin's beard, no. I'd write back and tell them to enjoy the cold of the streets because I hear hell is hot." Draco picked his carving tool back up so he'd have something to do with his hands. He didn't look angry on Harry's behalf, and Harry liked that about Draco. Rosalie and Hermione would have taken the issue in both hands and gone to give Aunt Petunia and Dudley a piece of their minds. Draco was content to roll his eyes, call them insane, and move on.

Harry examined a speaker above his head and thought about Saturday. He could ask Dobby to take him. He'd been popping in and out of school a lot recently, however. He needed to not abuse that opportunity. Draco drilled a hole into the vanishing cabinet and blew out the dust before setting the tool down.

"I knew you'd have a good idea of what I should do," Harry said.

Draco paused and removed his safety glasses. "Yeah. It's what you should do, but I already know it's not what you'll end up doing," he said.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"You'll get up on Saturday," Draco said. "And you'll think, oh, should I go? I should go just to make peace with them. Shouldn't I? And then you'll decide you'll go just to get a last look at the place. And then you'll get to talking with them. And you'll talk and then you've ended up doing the thing I told you not to do anyway. It's what you Gryffindors do. You push buttons and end up talking yourself into situations. I bet you began thinking about how you were going to get to Privet Drive the moment I said not to go."

He had a point. "I just… family is important, you know? I don't get another one."

Draco thought about that. He opened his mouth, then closed it. And a pit formed in Harry's stomach. If Draco was figuring out how to word something, then it probably meant he was about to deal a blow to the gut.

"Harry," Draco said, still fumbling for the words a bit. "You have to have a family to want them back. And you have to want them in order to have a family at all. They were never your family, from the sounds of it. So you can't want that family back. And if you really want them to be part of your family now…" Draco shook his head. "Is there a Stockholm Syndrome for families?"

"Those are some wise words on loyalty," Harry said, even though he had told Draco he wasn't coming for Hufflepuff-specific advice. "Aren't you supposed to stick with people?"

"Loyalty is sticking to people who stick with you," Draco said. "You can't have loyalty to an enemy."

"What about to an old friend?" Harry asked. He thought about Ron, and all that had happened.

"Weasley?" Draco asked, as if he could read Harry's mind.

"He thinks Hermione and I are going to get married, and he's bitter to me about it."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but the point of dating someone is to see if it could lead to marriage, correct?"

"Of course." Harry felt a little foolish. "Not right away though. He liked her. And I had a feeling, but I also liked her, so I went for it. And he's mad at me now."

Draco's stare seemed to go through Harry's soul. "And why is that your problem?" he asked.

"Because…" Harry struggled for the words. "Loyalty. Ron was my first friend."

"Weasley has a mouth, hasn't he? If he wanted to, he could ask Hermione to stop dating you and go out with him." Draco fixed his protective glasses back over his eyes. "Potter, it's none of your business if he likes your girlfriend. Your girlfriend likes you back and she's perfectly capable of leaving you if she wanted to. Loyalty is letting people make their own decisions, Potter, instead of moping in here about what if Ron doesn't like you anymore and did you make the right choice. He'll decide if he likes you whether or not you keep dating Hermione. And frankly, you can't decide who Hermione dates. It's out of your prerogative."

"I feel a little as if I betrayed him," Harry said. "Because I told Hermione I wanted to ask her before he did."

"And he hadn't told you?"

"No."

Draco shook his head. "Why are you making this so complicated?" He asked. "Quit trying to read his mind."

"I'm not… wot?"

"Right, Potter… Harry… I really can't talk about this for much longer. The further I get on this cabinet, the safer my parents will be after my visit tonight. But it seems to me that most of this problem is in your head. Until Ron talks to you about why he's upset, quit guessing what he's thinking. And I know you think you do, but you don't need to save the whole bloody world. You don't owe your aunt or cousin anything. I wouldn't show."

Harry did not say anything else. Draco picked up his tool and went about drilling the slopes and curves of a rune into the board.

At half past eight, Harry, Hermione, and Rosalie were waiting for Draco outside the Hufflepuff common room. Each Hufflepuff who passed offered to do something for them. Do you need a chair? Can I let you in? Then Crabbe and Goyle walked by and it looked to Harry that they'd been losing weight. They pointed to each other and stopped. "At you waiting for Draco?" Crabbe asked.

Harry had never heard Crabbe speak, but his voice sounded about what he'd expected. A little booming and deep.

"Yeah," Rosalie said. "Do you know him well?"

Crabbe and Goyle stared. "Yeah," Crabbe said after an uncomfortable pause. "We used to be friends."

"Henchmen, more like," Hermione said with an air of false casualty. "Goyle, I heard you are competing in the Gobstones Club competition this weekend. Good luck!"

"Thanks," Goyle said. He pulled out of his pocket a stack of tiny cards. "Come watch." He handed them each a card. It was blue and had a drawing of a series of Gobstones on the side and the date, time, and room number of the competition." Goyle then handed Rosalie a second. "For Draco," He said.

They looked so different as Hufflepuffs. Calmer. More productive. Harry watched them enter the common room and wondered if they felt that they fit in, or if they were still feeling a lot like Draco was.

It was quite the wait, but finally, the door was opened by someone coming out and Draco emerged. His hair was slicked down and his Hogwarts robes looked oddly blank without any house identifiers. No Slytherin crest on his pocket. Hermione jumped to her feet and wordlessly held out her tie. Draco took it.

"You look like you're twelve," again, Harry said, feeling a little weird as Draco put the Slytherin colours back on.

"Piss off," Malfoy said. Hermione offered a folded kerchief, which he took with a wry smile. "Though, if you really want it to feel like old times, I could call you names and grow your teeth out."

"I could punch you in the face," Hermione offered. "I think a black eye would look good for your meeting, wouldn't it?"

Rosalie reached forward and adjusted Draco's tie, straightening it under his collar. Her hands stayed a moment near the knot, then she withdrew. "Be good," she said, like a parent sending their child off somewhere. "Get what information you can. But stay safe."

"Thanks, love," Draco replied. He put his hands on her face and kissed her forehead, to which she closed her eyes against. Then he kissed her.

"A disgusting show," said a cold voice. Harry heard a cloak billowing behind him and turned to see Snape stowing towards him. Snape did not look at him at all. Fine, whatever. Snape jerked his head to the side. "Time to go," he said.

"Just a minute, Hermione said. She held out her hand to Draco. A paperclip was in it. "An emergency portkey," she said. "You'll end up in Hogsmeade."

Draco furrowed his brow. "How do I use it?"

"You ask to leave," Hermione said, glancing to Snape. "And we'll hear."

Draco thought about this, and shook his head. "Don't pull me back unless I'm literally about to die," he said. "It'll compromise my double-agency. Promise?"

Hermione and Rosalie exchanged a glance. "Promise," Hermione said. Rosalie did not promise.

Snape's face was impassive and he said nothing. He began to tap his foot on the stone floor. Draco took the hint, and stepped away. Before he left, he held his hand out to Harry. Harry shook it quickly, then pulled him in for a short hug. "Come back safe," he said.

Draco did not reply. He and Professor Snape left. Draco did not take any backwards glances and was gone quickly. At which point, Hermione and Rosalie stirred to attention. Hermione waved the two of them forward. "Come on," she said. "Slytherin is the closest common room after Hufflepuff."

"Are we waiting in the room?" Harry asked.

"We're spying from the room," Rosalie said. "I didn't have time to tell you earlier, but we got the router working before dinner. I planted a bug on Draco. We'll hear every word."

The next chapter will be called The Malfoy Manor.