Damaged update! Chapter 8, w00t!
Earlier than I expected, too. I suppose I just couldn't resist writing this chapter- wherein Draco doesn't get any answers, just more questions:)
Previous parts.
Chapter 8
Draco didn't stop frowning long after Potter turned red and scampered off without a word of explanation. What in the hell was that? Why had Potter, who'd seemingly fallen asleep last night curled in the arms of his best friends, crawled into his bed and snuggled up to him?
He sighed and got off the bed. After a quick wash and change of clothes, he made his way warily down the steps.
"He really has," Ron's voice said from behind a closed door Draco assumed was the kitchen. "I could've wound up with anyone - even Rosier, or that Lestrange woman. Zabini here was quite a catch."
Draco took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The scene he interrupted was eerily domestic - a load of redheads sat around the old table in the centre of the room, hair ranging from auburn to bright red. Potter, Blaise and a pair of blondes stood out from their midst like roses in a thorny bush. Eggs, salads, bacon and crisps were spread around the table among pitchers of juice and teapots. Everyone was frozen in motion, and most heads turned to stare at him.
After a moment, Sirius smiled at him, waving him in. Draco took a few wary steps forward before being faced with a wand in his nose.
"What ees the meaning of dis?" demanded the blonde who was holding the wand- obviously French and just as obviously pregnant. She was incredibly beautiful, and just as threatening. "What is ee doing 'ere?"
"Fleur, put your wand down," Lupin said calmly. "This is the boy who bought Sirius' freedom. He orchestrated everything."
Draco was unsure how to react - he resented being called a 'boy', but he hadn't been praised like this since Hogwarts. The blonde - Fleur - did not seem impressed.
"Dis boy killed Dumbledore," she sneered. The redhead sitting beside her stood up and put his hand on her arm. "Ee is responsible for 'urting Bill."
"He saved us," Potter said quietly, and Draco's attention turned to him. The Gryffindor's cheeks were flushed and he wasn't looking at Draco at all, but gazing at the Frenchwoman.
Her angry gaze softened immediately and she lowered her wand. The redhead hugged her, and she pressed a kiss to his scarred face. "I don't see why ee 'as to be 'ere."
Draco suddenly had a flash of recognition - of course he knew her. She had been the French champion for the Triwizard Tournament. And she'd married the scarred Weasley - they're the ones who escaped from Greyback.
"He saved them, so he deserves the benefit of the doubt, at least," said a voice from the corner, and Draco shivered. This voice was familiar, and when he turned to look he realised that the face was, as well. What in heaven's name was Longbottom doing here?
Longbottom was scowling at him. "Trust me, I'm about as enthused as you are to have him," he said. "But he turned on his family, and that's hard enough to do without leaving him defenceless."
Draco scowled. "I don't need your pity, Longbottom."
"I think you do," a bulky, muscled redhead said darkly. "I think you'll die without our pity, Malfoy, because none of us is eager to have you."
"That's enough, Charlie," said Mrs Weasley, surprisingly coming to Draco's rescue. She didn't sound very friendly, but then she must have had her own suspicions. "Have a seat, Malfoy, and eat your breakfast. You have a long day ahead of you."
Draco sat down between Lupin and Sirius. They both paused long enough to point out the names of the table's other occupants. The rest of the meal was eaten in tense, uncomfortable silence. No one, not even Sirius, tried to break it. The Weasleys still conversed with each other, but their heads were surrounded by several silencing spells that kept him from hearing what they had to say. He knew that they were talking about, though - they kept glancing back at him.
Granger was the first to rise from the table. She gave Potter and Weasley a long, meaningful look and left briskly. They exchanged a bewildered glance and followed without question - and Weasley's plate was still half-full. It had to be important. Draco itched to follow, but he knew that as soon as he got up, hi interrogation will be at hand. So he helped himself to a second serving and tried not to think.
There was a point when he couldn't pretend to eat anymore - his stomach was bursting. Mrs Weasley simply plucked the plate away from him, and he was left staring at those who remained. The Weaselette and the younger blonde, Gabrielle, were quickly shooed out of the room, under heavy protest, and both Blaise and Draco were presented with a single vial filled with clear liquid.
"How much?" Blaise asked calmly.
"Whole dose," Mr Weasley said briskly, and they both downed the vials in one swallow. "Let's get to business. Bill?"
Ron may have done a good job on him that morning after his near-breakdown, but he was nothing compared to his older brother. The man was ruthless and fixed in his intentions and drive, and Draco found himself spilling everything that had led him to this point - from finding his mother crying over her sister to seeing Potter with the Dark Lord. He'd even explained his motives in elaborate detail, going into strategic calculations he'd been pushed into.
"Why did you decide to switch sides?" Charlie piped up suddenly.
"I didn't," Draco said firmly. "I'm just displeased with the way things turned out."
"Do you regret killing Dumbledore?" Fleur snapped, blue eyes cold as ice.
"For the record, I didn't kill Dumbledore," Draco snapped right back, glaring at her. "And no, I don't regret doing my best to protect my family. I don't think you would, either."
That silenced up her nicely, and Draco closed his eyes, begging whatever deity to grant him patience. It wouldn't do to alienate these people.
"How did you get Harry out?"
"Life debt spell," Draco said simply.
"Life debt?" Bill echoed. "But that's..."
"Pettigrew owed Potter a life debt," Blaise said curtly. "We made him drink mixed blood and bound him to save Potter."
"That sounds fairly simple for something as intricate as a life debt spell," Bill said slowly.
"I wasn't overly interested in the logistics behind the spell," Blaise said disinterestedly. "We needed to get Potter out - that was the best way."
Bill and Charlie proceeded to cross-interrogate Blaise and Draco. At some point, a glass of water appeared before him, and he sent his silent thanks to Mrs Weasley, who seemed to have mellowed down enough to pity his parched throat.
Mr Weasley listened in silence until his sons were satisfied. He then gave everyone an imploring look that Draco had thought beyond him- the war had quite obviously hardened the Weasleys along with the rest of the world.
"I think that perhaps we should give Malfoy and Zabini the benefit of the doubt." He then turned hard blue eyes on Draco and Blaise. "We are willing to place you under the same wards as the rest of the order. This will give you the same protection, but it will subject you to the same sanctions should you turn against us. We need a lock of your hair to ingrain your signature in the wards. Do not make this decision lightly."
Draco didn't even hesitate - he reached up and plucked one strand from his hair. It glinted as he set it down and stood starkly pale against the dark wooden surface. Blaise immediately followed suit, and Mr Weasley smiled.
Lupin picked up both strands and left, Charlie and Fleur in tow.
"Come on, Zabini," Bill said, rising to his feet. He wasn't looking at Draco yet. "I want to pick your brain about that life debt spell."
Blaise gave him a fleeting look before following the redhead. Draco swallowed. There was one final thing he had to tell them - he wasn't sure Sirius had gotten any of it, what with the shock of seeing Potter as he'd been. He cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. "There's something more you should know, Mr Weasley."
Draco saw the man's eyes warm, like he hadn't expected Draco to contribute information quite so soon. Clearly he'd expected Draco to do as his father would have - keep all information until he could get something out of it. "It's, erm, about your daughter."
The man's hands curled into fists and his eyes hardened again. "What about Ginny?" he asked softly.
"The last assignment the Dark Lord gave me," Draco said slowly, "was to find Ginevra Weasley and bring her to him. Potter was - he said something about a dead diary, but I didn't-"
"Fuck," Mr Weasley cursed, and Draco flinched.
"Arthur?" Sirius started, shocked. "Molly, what-"
"The diary," Mrs Weasley mumbled. "The diary was his diary, Dumbledore had made it so clear..."
Draco exchanged a bewildered look with Sirius before looking at Lupin searchingly, but they both looked just as clueless as he felt.
"You think she was infected?" Mr Weasley whispered fearfully. "What if she's infected?"
"Hey!" Sirius snapped, rising to his feet, and both anxious parents shut up. He walked around the table to sit closer to them, and a moment later Lupin followed. He glanced at Draco, making it very clear that he should make himself scarce, and since Draco had nothing else to contribute he left them alone.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, an Imperturbable charm was cast on it. Draco felt it tingle the edges of his robes and took a step forward, feeling a little lost. It almost seemed like forever, but in truth it had only been a few days since he'd gotten Sirius. Since he'd devised this entire thing and executed it. The days had been so packed with happenings, so busy, that he'd barely had the chance to breathe and now- he had absolutely nothing to do.
He sighed, and began trudging up the stairs. He might as well take a shower and sleep some more- the last week had taken its toll on his body, as well. The Veritaserum wasn't agreeing with him, either- clearly his dose had been hastily brewed, and every beginner knew Veritaserum was all about patience.
"At least she's dead," Potter's voice came from behind a heavy wooden door, which probably meant he hadn't intended to be overheard. "I wasn't sure how, you know. I just knew that she was never around, and I was glad. She was creepy."
"Stabbed the sword of Gryffindor right through her scaly head," Ron said proudly, and Draco wondered who he'd killed. "And didn't even freak out about it. That's my girl."
Granger?!
"Yes, well, we still have three more to locate," Granger said briskly. "And I have no inkling where to begin."
"He... he asked Malfoy f-for the locket," Potter said, sounding suddenly weak, and Draco wanted to strangle the Dark Lord and watch him die. "The one Dumbledore and I- well. Do you know where the locket is?"
Draco's stomach turned, and the words bled out of his mouth. "It's here."
Gasps and yelps and scrambling noises, and the door was pulled wide open. Granger was in the doorway, looking flaxen with dread. Every single freckle on her nose stood out in contrast to her milky skin. Big doe eyes stared back at him, measuring him before she opened her mouth. "What did you hear?"
Draco folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her defiantly. "Why should I tell you?"
He didn't even get a chance to cock his eyebrow at her before the tip of her wand was in his face. "Because I don't like you and have no reason not to rob you of every single bit of your memories."
"Hermione!" Ron snapped, sounding alarmed, and Draco suddenly realised why- Potter's face was just as pale as Granger's as he rose to his feet.
"'Mione, please," he said quietly, and she immediately backed off. Like he had her trained or something, Draco thought as he stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him.
"What do you know about the locket?" Ron asked as soon as everyone settled down. Draco was tempted to lounge on the couch, just to spite them- none of them sat down next to him.
"Nothing much," he said, shrugging. "Just that the Dark Lord wants it, and that it's supposed to be somewhere on Black property."
"Black property?" Granger echoed. "But - why?"
"I reckon that's because my cousin Regulus stole it," Draco said slowly. Potter bit his lip and Draco couldn't tear his eyes away.
"We never got his middle name," Ron said faintly.
Granger slapped a hand against her forehead. "R.A.B! We're so mentally-challenged!"
Potter slapped his forehead, too, which seemed to distress his friends a great deal. He was wincing and gasping now, and his body began to tremble.
"Harry, concentrate," Granger begged, and touched his knee gently. He doubled over and flinched away from her, sinking deeper into the cushions and cradling his face in his hands.
"Oh no, oh God, this is so bad," Ron said, before his eyes swivelled to stare at Draco. "Malfoy! Do something!"
"What am I supposed to do?" Draco said, voice rising as Potter began making a terrified, keening noise. "What's going on?"
"Legilimency!"
That word sent Draco bolting across the room. He slapped Ron and Granger's hands away and pulled Potter's hands apart, replacing them with is own and pressing his forehead to Potter's. He cleared everything from his mind, including the odd image of waking up to Potter's face and tried to regulate his breaths.
"Breathe, Potter."
Potter's palms came to rest on Draco's and his eyelids fluttered softly as he tried to do as he was told. Draco felt the shiver run through Potter's body as he ran his thumbs under them, brushing the liquid away.
He could feel it inside Potter, festering and raging against the walls of his brain. Potter's grip tightened around Draco's wrists and Draco felt him rise against it, pushing it back. He threw himself into it as well, pushing with all his might.
Potter let out a gasp of relief and opened his eyes. His face was flushed with the exertion, and his breath was coming out in short, quick bursts of warm air that exploded against Draco's lips, and Draco barely stopped himself from closing the distance.
The hands fell away from his wrists and he let go reluctantly, pulling away from Potter. "All right, Potter?"
"Yeah," Potter said softly.
"This is so surreal," Granger whispered, staring at them. Draco barely spared a scowl in her direction for such blatant use of Muggle terms in front of him, and turned to look back at Potter.
"What was that?"
"Him," Potter replied venomously, and there was no need to ask who he'd meant. Before Draco had the chance to ask how that could be possible, Potter spoke again. "We need to find that locket."
You had to be blind to miss that change of subject, and Draco didn't feel like insisting. Not when Potter seemed so shaken all of a sudden. "As I said, it's likely on Black property."
"Here?" Granger suggested, apparently still reeling.
"Let's see, then," Malfoy said, and raised his hand. "Acc-"
"Malfoy!" Ron snapped, staring at Draco's hand. "Do you really think you could touch it with your bare palm?"
"Well, how else are we going to get it?" Draco asked. "Why do you need it anyway? It's just a locket. I suppose it has some silly meaning to the old bastard, but that's just because it's a Slytherin artefact."
Potter and his friends exchanged meaningful looks before the witch opened her mouth again. "Kreacher, Harry."
"Kreacher!" Potter snapped.
Upon Potter's demand, the ugliest house elf in creation appeared in the room. He was staring at Potter viciously, meanly, and Potter stared right back at him with a very similar sentiment. He muttered something malevolent that Draco didn't catch, and Potter paled.
"Iron your ears," Draco snapped coldly, not even pausing to think. Kreacher wasn't obligated to do anything Draco told him.
"Malfoy!" Granger screeched in dismay.
Only the beast blanched and turned to stare at Draco in awe. "Master Draco! Oh, beautiful, pure Master Draco, Kreacher is so pleased-"
"Shut up," Draco snapped, and Kreacher promptly shut up. Draco looked at the others searchingly. "How does he know me?"
"I, erm, kind of had him and Dobby tailing you during sixth year," Potter said sheepishly, and Draco nodded, leaning back. Potter seemed to have come back to himself, because he sat up straight and glared at the elf.
"Where is Slytherin's locket?" he demanded.
Kreacher made a face and didn't answer, shaking his head. Harry tried again.
"Did Regulus leave a gold locket with a snake emblem on it?"
Kreacher grimaced, and the word seemed to force its way out. "Ye-esss."
"Bring it to me," Harry said angrily. "Now."
Kreacher scowled at them and disappeared with a pop. Draco rolled his eyes. "Lovely elf you've got there, Potter."
"He knows too much for us to send him away," Potter muttered sullenly. "I wish we could've gotten Dobby."
"Yeah, at least he would've made us some decent tea," Ron agreed.
"Ron!" Granger said, outraged. "How can you speak like that!"
"There's a solution to that, anyway," Draco said pointedly. "Tilly!"
Two pops came one after the other. Kreacher was holding a garish golden locket. His scowl deepened when he noticed Tilly, who merely glanced at him in disdain before turning to her master. "Yes, Master Draco?"
"Shall you bring us tea, Tilly?" Draco asked, glancing at Kreacher. "Kreacher is apparently not overly trusted by his Master."
Tilly nodded and disappeared with a 'pop', and Kreacher handed the locket to Potter.
Granger tapped his hand, wrapping it in dragon hide, and he took the locket, grimacing at it. "This is disgusting."
"Unworthy Master, filthy tainted little-"
"Go back to the kitchen, Kreacher," Draco said softly, eagerly watching the others. Despite the fear and revulsion on their faces, they seemed somehow pleased.
Tilly appeared with the tea as they deposited the locket in a thick, intricately decorated lead box. Draco made up his mind to determine exactly what was so special about that locket.
Finally, Granger turned and gave Draco a piercing look. "Malfoy, what do you know about brewing poisons?"
"Severus taught me nearly everything," Draco said softly. He watched Potter's hands curling into fists, but wisely said nothing. "I can probably brew whatever you need."
"We need something both poisonous and acidic," Granger said promptly, apparently ignoring Potter's sudden rage as well.
"Well, that'll be hard to find," Draco said slowly. "Most acidic potions don't need addendums to make them vicious."
"We were thinking of brewing a potion and adding Basilisk venom," Potter said, breathing deeply. "But none of us knows anything about acidic potions."
"Basilisk venom?" Draco echoed. "Where in heaven's name will you find Basilisk venom? And do you know how dangerous it is? Phoenix tears are the only cure, and they're just as rare."
"We have a dead Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets," Ron said slowly. "I told you this already."
"And Fawkes will appear if we need him," Potter said, nodding. "I think."
Draco swallowed his disbelief, nodded and finished his tea before getting to his feet. "I have a few books from home, I can check to see if they have any acidic potions that won't offset the Basilisk venom."
"You need help?" Granger suggested eagerly. Draco merely shook his head, and she deflated. "All right. Then we need to find a way to get the other two."
Draco nodded at no one in particular and headed for the door. He turned to look at them one last time and found that Potter's eyes lingered, staring after him. Potter flushed prettily and averted his eyes, seemingly immersing himself in his best friends.
Draco closed the door behind him with a silent nick with two decisions in mind.
One, that he would find out what was so special about that locket, and why it revolted and thrilled the Gryffindors at the same time.
Two, that the next time Potter slipped into his bed - and there would be a next time, of that he was certain - he would not let the Gryffindor leave until he got an explanation.
Next
Previous parts.
Chapter 8
Draco didn't stop frowning long after Potter turned red and scampered off without a word of explanation. What in the hell was that? Why had Potter, who'd seemingly fallen asleep last night curled in the arms of his best friends, crawled into his bed and snuggled up to him?
He sighed and got off the bed. After a quick wash and change of clothes, he made his way warily down the steps.
"He really has," Ron's voice said from behind a closed door Draco assumed was the kitchen. "I could've wound up with anyone - even Rosier, or that Lestrange woman. Zabini here was quite a catch."
Draco took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The scene he interrupted was eerily domestic - a load of redheads sat around the old table in the centre of the room, hair ranging from auburn to bright red. Potter, Blaise and a pair of blondes stood out from their midst like roses in a thorny bush. Eggs, salads, bacon and crisps were spread around the table among pitchers of juice and teapots. Everyone was frozen in motion, and most heads turned to stare at him.
After a moment, Sirius smiled at him, waving him in. Draco took a few wary steps forward before being faced with a wand in his nose.
"What ees the meaning of dis?" demanded the blonde who was holding the wand- obviously French and just as obviously pregnant. She was incredibly beautiful, and just as threatening. "What is ee doing 'ere?"
"Fleur, put your wand down," Lupin said calmly. "This is the boy who bought Sirius' freedom. He orchestrated everything."
Draco was unsure how to react - he resented being called a 'boy', but he hadn't been praised like this since Hogwarts. The blonde - Fleur - did not seem impressed.
"Dis boy killed Dumbledore," she sneered. The redhead sitting beside her stood up and put his hand on her arm. "Ee is responsible for 'urting Bill."
"He saved us," Potter said quietly, and Draco's attention turned to him. The Gryffindor's cheeks were flushed and he wasn't looking at Draco at all, but gazing at the Frenchwoman.
Her angry gaze softened immediately and she lowered her wand. The redhead hugged her, and she pressed a kiss to his scarred face. "I don't see why ee 'as to be 'ere."
Draco suddenly had a flash of recognition - of course he knew her. She had been the French champion for the Triwizard Tournament. And she'd married the scarred Weasley - they're the ones who escaped from Greyback.
"He saved them, so he deserves the benefit of the doubt, at least," said a voice from the corner, and Draco shivered. This voice was familiar, and when he turned to look he realised that the face was, as well. What in heaven's name was Longbottom doing here?
Longbottom was scowling at him. "Trust me, I'm about as enthused as you are to have him," he said. "But he turned on his family, and that's hard enough to do without leaving him defenceless."
Draco scowled. "I don't need your pity, Longbottom."
"I think you do," a bulky, muscled redhead said darkly. "I think you'll die without our pity, Malfoy, because none of us is eager to have you."
"That's enough, Charlie," said Mrs Weasley, surprisingly coming to Draco's rescue. She didn't sound very friendly, but then she must have had her own suspicions. "Have a seat, Malfoy, and eat your breakfast. You have a long day ahead of you."
Draco sat down between Lupin and Sirius. They both paused long enough to point out the names of the table's other occupants. The rest of the meal was eaten in tense, uncomfortable silence. No one, not even Sirius, tried to break it. The Weasleys still conversed with each other, but their heads were surrounded by several silencing spells that kept him from hearing what they had to say. He knew that they were talking about, though - they kept glancing back at him.
Granger was the first to rise from the table. She gave Potter and Weasley a long, meaningful look and left briskly. They exchanged a bewildered glance and followed without question - and Weasley's plate was still half-full. It had to be important. Draco itched to follow, but he knew that as soon as he got up, hi interrogation will be at hand. So he helped himself to a second serving and tried not to think.
There was a point when he couldn't pretend to eat anymore - his stomach was bursting. Mrs Weasley simply plucked the plate away from him, and he was left staring at those who remained. The Weaselette and the younger blonde, Gabrielle, were quickly shooed out of the room, under heavy protest, and both Blaise and Draco were presented with a single vial filled with clear liquid.
"How much?" Blaise asked calmly.
"Whole dose," Mr Weasley said briskly, and they both downed the vials in one swallow. "Let's get to business. Bill?"
Ron may have done a good job on him that morning after his near-breakdown, but he was nothing compared to his older brother. The man was ruthless and fixed in his intentions and drive, and Draco found himself spilling everything that had led him to this point - from finding his mother crying over her sister to seeing Potter with the Dark Lord. He'd even explained his motives in elaborate detail, going into strategic calculations he'd been pushed into.
"Why did you decide to switch sides?" Charlie piped up suddenly.
"I didn't," Draco said firmly. "I'm just displeased with the way things turned out."
"Do you regret killing Dumbledore?" Fleur snapped, blue eyes cold as ice.
"For the record, I didn't kill Dumbledore," Draco snapped right back, glaring at her. "And no, I don't regret doing my best to protect my family. I don't think you would, either."
That silenced up her nicely, and Draco closed his eyes, begging whatever deity to grant him patience. It wouldn't do to alienate these people.
"How did you get Harry out?"
"Life debt spell," Draco said simply.
"Life debt?" Bill echoed. "But that's..."
"Pettigrew owed Potter a life debt," Blaise said curtly. "We made him drink mixed blood and bound him to save Potter."
"That sounds fairly simple for something as intricate as a life debt spell," Bill said slowly.
"I wasn't overly interested in the logistics behind the spell," Blaise said disinterestedly. "We needed to get Potter out - that was the best way."
Bill and Charlie proceeded to cross-interrogate Blaise and Draco. At some point, a glass of water appeared before him, and he sent his silent thanks to Mrs Weasley, who seemed to have mellowed down enough to pity his parched throat.
Mr Weasley listened in silence until his sons were satisfied. He then gave everyone an imploring look that Draco had thought beyond him- the war had quite obviously hardened the Weasleys along with the rest of the world.
"I think that perhaps we should give Malfoy and Zabini the benefit of the doubt." He then turned hard blue eyes on Draco and Blaise. "We are willing to place you under the same wards as the rest of the order. This will give you the same protection, but it will subject you to the same sanctions should you turn against us. We need a lock of your hair to ingrain your signature in the wards. Do not make this decision lightly."
Draco didn't even hesitate - he reached up and plucked one strand from his hair. It glinted as he set it down and stood starkly pale against the dark wooden surface. Blaise immediately followed suit, and Mr Weasley smiled.
Lupin picked up both strands and left, Charlie and Fleur in tow.
"Come on, Zabini," Bill said, rising to his feet. He wasn't looking at Draco yet. "I want to pick your brain about that life debt spell."
Blaise gave him a fleeting look before following the redhead. Draco swallowed. There was one final thing he had to tell them - he wasn't sure Sirius had gotten any of it, what with the shock of seeing Potter as he'd been. He cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. "There's something more you should know, Mr Weasley."
Draco saw the man's eyes warm, like he hadn't expected Draco to contribute information quite so soon. Clearly he'd expected Draco to do as his father would have - keep all information until he could get something out of it. "It's, erm, about your daughter."
The man's hands curled into fists and his eyes hardened again. "What about Ginny?" he asked softly.
"The last assignment the Dark Lord gave me," Draco said slowly, "was to find Ginevra Weasley and bring her to him. Potter was - he said something about a dead diary, but I didn't-"
"Fuck," Mr Weasley cursed, and Draco flinched.
"Arthur?" Sirius started, shocked. "Molly, what-"
"The diary," Mrs Weasley mumbled. "The diary was his diary, Dumbledore had made it so clear..."
Draco exchanged a bewildered look with Sirius before looking at Lupin searchingly, but they both looked just as clueless as he felt.
"You think she was infected?" Mr Weasley whispered fearfully. "What if she's infected?"
"Hey!" Sirius snapped, rising to his feet, and both anxious parents shut up. He walked around the table to sit closer to them, and a moment later Lupin followed. He glanced at Draco, making it very clear that he should make himself scarce, and since Draco had nothing else to contribute he left them alone.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, an Imperturbable charm was cast on it. Draco felt it tingle the edges of his robes and took a step forward, feeling a little lost. It almost seemed like forever, but in truth it had only been a few days since he'd gotten Sirius. Since he'd devised this entire thing and executed it. The days had been so packed with happenings, so busy, that he'd barely had the chance to breathe and now- he had absolutely nothing to do.
He sighed, and began trudging up the stairs. He might as well take a shower and sleep some more- the last week had taken its toll on his body, as well. The Veritaserum wasn't agreeing with him, either- clearly his dose had been hastily brewed, and every beginner knew Veritaserum was all about patience.
"At least she's dead," Potter's voice came from behind a heavy wooden door, which probably meant he hadn't intended to be overheard. "I wasn't sure how, you know. I just knew that she was never around, and I was glad. She was creepy."
"Stabbed the sword of Gryffindor right through her scaly head," Ron said proudly, and Draco wondered who he'd killed. "And didn't even freak out about it. That's my girl."
Granger?!
"Yes, well, we still have three more to locate," Granger said briskly. "And I have no inkling where to begin."
"He... he asked Malfoy f-for the locket," Potter said, sounding suddenly weak, and Draco wanted to strangle the Dark Lord and watch him die. "The one Dumbledore and I- well. Do you know where the locket is?"
Draco's stomach turned, and the words bled out of his mouth. "It's here."
Gasps and yelps and scrambling noises, and the door was pulled wide open. Granger was in the doorway, looking flaxen with dread. Every single freckle on her nose stood out in contrast to her milky skin. Big doe eyes stared back at him, measuring him before she opened her mouth. "What did you hear?"
Draco folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her defiantly. "Why should I tell you?"
He didn't even get a chance to cock his eyebrow at her before the tip of her wand was in his face. "Because I don't like you and have no reason not to rob you of every single bit of your memories."
"Hermione!" Ron snapped, sounding alarmed, and Draco suddenly realised why- Potter's face was just as pale as Granger's as he rose to his feet.
"'Mione, please," he said quietly, and she immediately backed off. Like he had her trained or something, Draco thought as he stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him.
"What do you know about the locket?" Ron asked as soon as everyone settled down. Draco was tempted to lounge on the couch, just to spite them- none of them sat down next to him.
"Nothing much," he said, shrugging. "Just that the Dark Lord wants it, and that it's supposed to be somewhere on Black property."
"Black property?" Granger echoed. "But - why?"
"I reckon that's because my cousin Regulus stole it," Draco said slowly. Potter bit his lip and Draco couldn't tear his eyes away.
"We never got his middle name," Ron said faintly.
Granger slapped a hand against her forehead. "R.A.B! We're so mentally-challenged!"
Potter slapped his forehead, too, which seemed to distress his friends a great deal. He was wincing and gasping now, and his body began to tremble.
"Harry, concentrate," Granger begged, and touched his knee gently. He doubled over and flinched away from her, sinking deeper into the cushions and cradling his face in his hands.
"Oh no, oh God, this is so bad," Ron said, before his eyes swivelled to stare at Draco. "Malfoy! Do something!"
"What am I supposed to do?" Draco said, voice rising as Potter began making a terrified, keening noise. "What's going on?"
"Legilimency!"
That word sent Draco bolting across the room. He slapped Ron and Granger's hands away and pulled Potter's hands apart, replacing them with is own and pressing his forehead to Potter's. He cleared everything from his mind, including the odd image of waking up to Potter's face and tried to regulate his breaths.
"Breathe, Potter."
Potter's palms came to rest on Draco's and his eyelids fluttered softly as he tried to do as he was told. Draco felt the shiver run through Potter's body as he ran his thumbs under them, brushing the liquid away.
He could feel it inside Potter, festering and raging against the walls of his brain. Potter's grip tightened around Draco's wrists and Draco felt him rise against it, pushing it back. He threw himself into it as well, pushing with all his might.
Potter let out a gasp of relief and opened his eyes. His face was flushed with the exertion, and his breath was coming out in short, quick bursts of warm air that exploded against Draco's lips, and Draco barely stopped himself from closing the distance.
The hands fell away from his wrists and he let go reluctantly, pulling away from Potter. "All right, Potter?"
"Yeah," Potter said softly.
"This is so surreal," Granger whispered, staring at them. Draco barely spared a scowl in her direction for such blatant use of Muggle terms in front of him, and turned to look back at Potter.
"What was that?"
"Him," Potter replied venomously, and there was no need to ask who he'd meant. Before Draco had the chance to ask how that could be possible, Potter spoke again. "We need to find that locket."
You had to be blind to miss that change of subject, and Draco didn't feel like insisting. Not when Potter seemed so shaken all of a sudden. "As I said, it's likely on Black property."
"Here?" Granger suggested, apparently still reeling.
"Let's see, then," Malfoy said, and raised his hand. "Acc-"
"Malfoy!" Ron snapped, staring at Draco's hand. "Do you really think you could touch it with your bare palm?"
"Well, how else are we going to get it?" Draco asked. "Why do you need it anyway? It's just a locket. I suppose it has some silly meaning to the old bastard, but that's just because it's a Slytherin artefact."
Potter and his friends exchanged meaningful looks before the witch opened her mouth again. "Kreacher, Harry."
"Kreacher!" Potter snapped.
Upon Potter's demand, the ugliest house elf in creation appeared in the room. He was staring at Potter viciously, meanly, and Potter stared right back at him with a very similar sentiment. He muttered something malevolent that Draco didn't catch, and Potter paled.
"Iron your ears," Draco snapped coldly, not even pausing to think. Kreacher wasn't obligated to do anything Draco told him.
"Malfoy!" Granger screeched in dismay.
Only the beast blanched and turned to stare at Draco in awe. "Master Draco! Oh, beautiful, pure Master Draco, Kreacher is so pleased-"
"Shut up," Draco snapped, and Kreacher promptly shut up. Draco looked at the others searchingly. "How does he know me?"
"I, erm, kind of had him and Dobby tailing you during sixth year," Potter said sheepishly, and Draco nodded, leaning back. Potter seemed to have come back to himself, because he sat up straight and glared at the elf.
"Where is Slytherin's locket?" he demanded.
Kreacher made a face and didn't answer, shaking his head. Harry tried again.
"Did Regulus leave a gold locket with a snake emblem on it?"
Kreacher grimaced, and the word seemed to force its way out. "Ye-esss."
"Bring it to me," Harry said angrily. "Now."
Kreacher scowled at them and disappeared with a pop. Draco rolled his eyes. "Lovely elf you've got there, Potter."
"He knows too much for us to send him away," Potter muttered sullenly. "I wish we could've gotten Dobby."
"Yeah, at least he would've made us some decent tea," Ron agreed.
"Ron!" Granger said, outraged. "How can you speak like that!"
"There's a solution to that, anyway," Draco said pointedly. "Tilly!"
Two pops came one after the other. Kreacher was holding a garish golden locket. His scowl deepened when he noticed Tilly, who merely glanced at him in disdain before turning to her master. "Yes, Master Draco?"
"Shall you bring us tea, Tilly?" Draco asked, glancing at Kreacher. "Kreacher is apparently not overly trusted by his Master."
Tilly nodded and disappeared with a 'pop', and Kreacher handed the locket to Potter.
Granger tapped his hand, wrapping it in dragon hide, and he took the locket, grimacing at it. "This is disgusting."
"Unworthy Master, filthy tainted little-"
"Go back to the kitchen, Kreacher," Draco said softly, eagerly watching the others. Despite the fear and revulsion on their faces, they seemed somehow pleased.
Tilly appeared with the tea as they deposited the locket in a thick, intricately decorated lead box. Draco made up his mind to determine exactly what was so special about that locket.
Finally, Granger turned and gave Draco a piercing look. "Malfoy, what do you know about brewing poisons?"
"Severus taught me nearly everything," Draco said softly. He watched Potter's hands curling into fists, but wisely said nothing. "I can probably brew whatever you need."
"We need something both poisonous and acidic," Granger said promptly, apparently ignoring Potter's sudden rage as well.
"Well, that'll be hard to find," Draco said slowly. "Most acidic potions don't need addendums to make them vicious."
"We were thinking of brewing a potion and adding Basilisk venom," Potter said, breathing deeply. "But none of us knows anything about acidic potions."
"Basilisk venom?" Draco echoed. "Where in heaven's name will you find Basilisk venom? And do you know how dangerous it is? Phoenix tears are the only cure, and they're just as rare."
"We have a dead Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets," Ron said slowly. "I told you this already."
"And Fawkes will appear if we need him," Potter said, nodding. "I think."
Draco swallowed his disbelief, nodded and finished his tea before getting to his feet. "I have a few books from home, I can check to see if they have any acidic potions that won't offset the Basilisk venom."
"You need help?" Granger suggested eagerly. Draco merely shook his head, and she deflated. "All right. Then we need to find a way to get the other two."
Draco nodded at no one in particular and headed for the door. He turned to look at them one last time and found that Potter's eyes lingered, staring after him. Potter flushed prettily and averted his eyes, seemingly immersing himself in his best friends.
Draco closed the door behind him with a silent nick with two decisions in mind.
One, that he would find out what was so special about that locket, and why it revolted and thrilled the Gryffindors at the same time.
Two, that the next time Potter slipped into his bed - and there would be a next time, of that he was certain - he would not let the Gryffindor leave until he got an explanation.
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