Fic: The Consolations of a Summer's Day, part five

[blamebrampton]

Part four



Swimming had been a good idea, Harry thought. They were all physically and mentally grimy from the day, and yet here it was lovely, and the water was cool and fresh.

He and Evald had sorted out plans for the morning: as long as Harry, Veigo and Draco could be at Meeli’s by eight, Evald would have a new prisoner’s uniform for Draco, a suitably large pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and a doctor to declare that Draco was fit to attend the hearing, arriving at about a quarter to nine.

Luna had taken Veigo up to her father’s room, allegedly to check on his head wound and amuse him with board games, but Harry had heard the door close firmly behind them. Someone was benefitting from all this running around in circles, he reflected, ruefully.

Harry had made Kreacher a nest of pillows and blankets in the kitchen, and he had declared it a very fine thing, before flopping down to snore cheerfully. Harry was glad he was here, rather than alone back at Grimmauld Place. He knew Kreacher was happiest when he could keep an eye on him, and to be honest, it was nice to know there was an eye being kept.

And then Malfoy.

Malfoy had come back from the stream, dried off and dressed in another set of Harry’s clothes, and then sat down to read his way through all the case notes again. He hadn’t even looked up when Evald had left, only nodding assent to the morning plan.

Harry had found him a quill, and fresh parchment for note-making, and then made him a cup of tea when he was still going after an hour. It was odd to see Malfoy so intent on a task that wasn’t going to end in disaster. Harry smiled. He hadn’t been an idiot getting Malfoy out of there. It had been the right decision, whatever Ron thought.

Malfoy looked up and caught the smile. He looked confused.

‘I was just thinking that we’ve made it through nearly twelve hours, and there’s still no sign of homicide,’ Harry said. ‘Pansy would be proud of us.’

‘She’d be worried we were sick,’ Malfoy replied, with a little smile of his own. ‘Can I get you to have a look at this?’ he asked, indicating the papers in front of him.

Harry moved over to the sofa and looked at the notes spread out on the low table.

‘See here, and here,’ Malfoy pointed. ‘Someone from the Brown house was travelling on the Floo Network at the right times.’

‘You don’t suspect Lavender?’ Harry asked.

‘Of course not. But I do want to know why Pansy’s Aunt Marjorie called her “poor Lavender”.’

‘I’ve been planning to check that out,’ Harry admitted.

‘Have you seen her since the War?’

‘No. You?’

Malfoy shook his head. ‘You don’t think … I mean, I saw her fall, and then Greyback made a lunge in her direction …’

‘Hermione stopped him,’ Harry said, with more certainty than he felt. ‘And there was no funeral. We’d have heard.’

Malfoy nodded, and didn’t point out that there had been so many funerals it had been hard to keep track, for which Harry was grateful.

‘I just think it would be worth talking to Mr Brown,’ said Malfoy.

Harry looked at Malfoy’s face. ‘I think you’re right.’ He thought for a moment. Peter Brown was moderately old, respectable and not someone he knew anything about, which spoke well for his law-abiding qualities.

‘We could go tonight,’ Harry offered. ‘I think it should be fine, it’s still light, so he probably hasn’t gone to bed.’

‘Should we take Veigo and Luna?’

Harry glanced at the ceiling. ‘I think it would be best to leave them,’ he said, diplomatically.

‘Oh,’ said Malfoy. ‘Right. Well, we’ve been questioning people all day, one more should be fine. Do you want to Transfigure my hair and nose again?’

Harry couldn’t help laughing. ‘I don’t think it will be necessary. Does he know you well?’

‘Not at all, personally, but he might have seen me in the Prophet over the years.’

‘Wear a hat?’

Malfoy pulled a face, but he did search through the collection on the hatstand and decide on a tartan cap, which he pulled on before they left. The Floo Regulation Panel had provided them with the Browns’ address, so Harry Apparated them there, pausing to remind Malfoy to draw his wand before he knocked on the front door: ‘Just in case.’

Mr Brown answered the door cautiously. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, the suggestion that it was an unreasonable time for visitors clearly audible, if unspoken.

He looked vaguely familiar to Harry, probably from him seeing Lavender off at King’s Cross. ‘Good evening, Mr Brown, my name is Harry Potter, we’re here from the Auror Office. I’m investigating the murder of Pansy Parkinson and I believe you saw her at her aunt’s house a few days before her death.’

‘Harry Potter,’ Mr Brown said. ‘My Lavender used to talk about you when you were at school together. Come in, come in. Yes, dreadful business.’

He showed them through to the living room, which was large, and cluttered with items ranging from baskets of clean washing to unopened packets of dog biscuits. Harry looked around, but couldn’t see a dog.

‘How is Lavender?’ Harry asked.

‘As well as can be expected,’ Mr Brown said, absently. ‘Since her mother left us, things have gone downhill in the housework stakes, as you can see …’

‘It’s not an issue,’ Harry reassured him, waiting for Mr Brown to sit down then taking the seat nearest him. ‘I was hoping that you could help us reconstruct some of Pansy’s actions in the days before her death. I understand you saw her at her Aunt Marjorie’s?’

‘Yes, yes she came to visit. She wanted her aunt’s advice, but didn’t want to intrude. She stayed for a cup of tea. She was only a little thing, much smaller than I thought. So delicate.’

Harry nodded slowly. Mr Brown was watching him intently, and didn’t seem to have even noticed Malfoy prowling around the room.

‘And had you seen her much before then? Or visited her father recently?’

‘No. No, I hadn’t seen the Parkinsons for years, except Marjorie, of course. She and I were at school together. Like you, and my poor Lavender.’

‘How is Lavender, Mr Brown?’ Harry asked again.

Mr Brown gave a short laugh. ‘Not everyone came through the War as well as you did, Harry. Not every sacrifice was rewarded. We make do, we get by.’

Harry’s eyes took in the calendar on the wall behind Mr Brown’s head. It was the type that had the phases of the moon marked on it, and in the square for the previous Thursday, there was a small red cross.

‘Where’s Lavender?’ Harry asked, all gentleness gone from his voice.

‘Potter.’

Harry turned around to see Malfoy lifting a small towel from one of the washing baskets. It had a red ‘P’ embroidered in one corner.

There was a growl behind him, and Harry turned, wand drawn, but Mr Brown was already thrown back by a Stunner from Malfoy, and so all that remained was to conjure ropes and tie him firmly to the chair.

And then he turned around.

Malfoy’s wand was still clenched in his fist, halfway up, but he was breathing with determined slowness, and not opening his mouth.

‘You did it,’ Harry said.

Malfoy nodded. He tucked his wand into the waistband of his trousers, then folded the towel neatly and put it into his pocket.

‘Pansy’s mum will want that,’ he said. ‘We should go and find Lavender.’

Harry checked the ropes were secure, took Mr Brown’s wand, and moved him and the chair he was tied to out into the centre of the floor. Putting a locking charm on the living room doors, he and Malfoy went to search the house.

They found an elaborate Potions set-up in the kitchen, with a brew decanted into several small silver bottles, all labelled with dates over the next two weeks, and carefully handwritten instructions beside bags of ingredients.

Malfoy read the spell quickly. ‘A werewolf cure,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t have worked.’

They kept searching.

All traces of Mrs Brown had been removed from the house, but Lavender’s room was still clean and tidy, with her schoolbooks and personal possessions neatly arranged, as though by a curatorial hand. There was even a diary that proclaimed ‘Mrs Lavender Weasley’ on the back cover.

It was Malfoy who found her, down in the cellar, its entrance hidden at the back of the pantry. Strong bars had been erected, forming a gated cell that took up most of the room. Lavender was inside, lying on a bed that was basic, though clean. There was a shackle around her ankle, and a long chain leading back to a bolt sunk into the stone wall. There was little furniture: a chair, a crate full of books, another crate with a tray balanced on it and a bucket for a lavatory, which Harry could smell from here. There was food on the tray, it was untouched but the water carafe was empty.

‘Lavender?’ Malfoy called, as Harry burst the lock on the gate.

She sat up groggily as they both ran in towards her.

‘Harry!’ she whispered, focussing on him, then, ‘Draco! You?’

She started to laugh. It wasn’t a healthy laugh. Harry looked at Malfoy, who grabbed the carafe and ran out of the cellar. Abandoned, he sat carefully on the bed beside Lavender and held out a hand to her.

‘Hiya Lavender,’ he said. ‘You don’t look the best.’

She clutched at his hand, and started to sob great wet hiccoughing sobs. Malfoy returned with water and a glass. Harry held a glassful out to Lavender and gently suggested she take a sip.

She managed one, which calmed her enough for a second and then a third.

Her hair was a nest of tangles, and she looked very thin to Harry, with blue circles around her eyes and grey lips.

‘Have you eaten, Lavender?’ Draco asked.

‘Not lately,’ she answered, in a croaky voice. ‘Dad’s put something all over my food, I think he’s done something terrible.’

‘Potter, there’s food in your bag,’ Malfoy reminded him.

Harry summoned one of the pies.

‘Just a little,’ Malfoy warned. ‘Or you’ll be sick. I got this way once during the War, didn’t want to eat anything I couldn’t identify.’

Lavender gave a weak smile at that, and nibbled at the pastry with restraint.

‘How long have you been down here?’ Malfoy asked.

‘A while,’ Lavender evaded. ‘It used to be a lot nicer, and there’s usually lots of water and good things to eat, but Dad’s been angry at me this week, because I didn’t want to take that potion.’

‘Did Greyback bite you?’ Harry asked gently.

A sob burst from her compulsively, but she fought back control. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Just a scratch. But he never believed me. He kept waiting for me to turn. And when I’d shout and yell and try to escape, he’d say it was the wolf coming out. He Obliviated Mum, I don’t know where she’s gone. I don’t think she even remembers me.’

‘Lavender, how long have you been here?’ Harry asked.

And when she didn’t answer, Malfoy said, ‘Eight years?’

And when she nodded, Harry was halfway out of the cellar before he felt strong arms restraining him and he wanted to fight them off, but instead he let himself be stopped, and he dropped his head, and felt the touch of Malfoy’s forehead as it met his own.

‘I know,’ said Malfoy. ‘But you were right. There has to be a difference between us and them. Even when we don’t want there to be.’ And then he stepped away, and Harry was left standing alone just when he didn’t want to be.

They called in Kingsley, and Ron.

There was no choice, really, even though Hermione was now almost certainly going to kill Harry. At least Harry had the sense to Owl for the Minister first, so it was Kingsley Lavender clung to while they decided whether it would be better to take her to St Mungo’s or to call the MediWizards to attend there.

Mr Brown had regained consciousness and was attempting to explain that it was not as though he had had any option, and that it had been necessary to purge the taint from Lavender’s flesh, and that they should not let her roam free because she was a danger to all of them, really …

Ron arrived full of annoyance, which evaporated immediately on seeing the scene. ‘Go,’ he said to Harry and Malfoy. ‘I’ve got this.’

Suddenly exhausted, Harry thanked him, and Kingsley, and turned to Malfoy. Who was staring at Mr Brown.

Harry did not move his hand towards his wand.

‘She deserved better,’ said Malfoy. ‘My friend Pansy. She was a good friend, and a loving daughter. She was decent, and funny, and kind. And your Lavender deserved better, too. I hope one day you’re sane enough to know that. And to do what you can for Lavender.’

Harry put an arm around his shoulders, and led him towards the door.

‘Draco,’ called Ron, before they could step through it. ‘Good work, yeah? Well done.’

And Malfoy smiled at that.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Harry said, and shut the door behind them.

The sun had not long set, which was ridiculous, because it felt as though they had been in there for hours. The last gold was dripping below the horizon, and the sky fading through pink and violet. Harry walked them down the steps, away from the house, to the rough road that ran into the village.

Anything he said would be wrong at the moment, so he just walked.

They made it to the old mill bridge before Malfoy stopped.

‘That was horrible,’ he said.

Harry nodded.

‘We should go back to Luna’s. Your house-elf will think I’ve murdered you and come after me.’

Harry smiled. ‘I’ll get us back,’ he said, and took Malfoy’s arm again.

He took them to Luna’s front garden. Spiky stems of teasles looked alien and strange in the blue-grey light, but the sweet fragrance of phlox and honeysuckle reassured him.

Malfoy stood still, looking up at the towering house. ‘Do you think anyone’s awake inside?’ he asked.

Harry couldn’t help himself. He giggled. Malfoy took a moment longer to recall Veigo’s shameless pursuit of Luna, and then he was giggling, too. They didn’t bother to stop until they ran out of breath, and then everything was just a bit easier than it had been.

‘Maybe we should put the tent up?’ Malfoy suggested.

‘Or I could transform the sofa and chairs in the living room,’ Harry offered. ‘I’ve slept on the tent bunks, they’re less than ideal.’

‘Sounds good.’

Malfoy led the way in, pausing to grab leftovers from dinner and afternoon tea. ‘I’m hungry now,’ he whispered in reply to Harry’s bemused look.

And when Malfoy put the plates and bowls down on the table in the living room, Harry realised that he was hungry, too. They both ate sparingly and silently for a quarter hour, but everything tasted better to Harry than it had earlier in the day.

‘I knew you could do it,’ Malfoy told his slice of rhubarb pie.

‘I would have missed it if you hadn’t been there,’ Harry replied, putting his plate down.

‘Not for long.’

‘Maybe not, but Lavender would have spent all the time it took me in her jail, starving.’

Malfoy shivered and put his own plate down. ‘I feel as though it should be raining. Or snowing. It should be grey, and miserable, all this week. But today was beautiful.’

‘It was,’ Harry agreed. ‘And tomorrow will be, too. Which is good. Every time I feel despair, I find comfort in simple things like the warm sun, and clear water, and the smells of a well-tended garden.’ And because he was honest, he added, ‘And Quidditch, and food.’

Which made Malfoy smile.

‘I’m all for food,’ he agreed. ‘And Quidditch. And those other things are also good.’

‘We could go for a Snitch-chase after we sort things out for you tomorrow,’ Harry offered.

Malfoy looked sceptical.

‘I can give myself a half-day,’ Harry said.

‘And spend it with me?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I’m going for the record time in Malfoy company without an attempted assault.’

‘That was passed around lunchtime, wasn’t it?’

‘About then, yes.’

Malfoy smiled again. ‘Flying does sound more fun than going home and waiting to see if my Father ever gets around to apologising.’

‘And Kreacher can threaten you occasionally if you’re missing the abuse,’ Harry offered.

Malfoy thumped him with a sofa cushion.

‘Restarting the clock,’ Harry announced, with exaggerated grievance.

‘That was never assault,’ Malfoy protested. ‘More an affectionate laddish expression of …’

‘Of what?’ Harry asked lightly.

‘Affection?’ Malfoy suggested, tentatively.

‘Well that’s all right then,’ said Harry, and smiled as Malfoy let go of the breath he’d been holding.

And Harry kissed him then, because if he waited until he had the perfect thing to say, or until it was the exactly right moment, then it was going to be at least another eight years of thinking he should have said or done something when he had the chance.

And Malfoy kissed him back, though Harry wasn’t sure if he was shivering or laughing, but it didn’t seem like an ideal time to stop to find out. Harry moved to push Malfoy back onto the sofa just as Malfoy attempted the same in reverse, and they spilled onto the floor, and it was definitely laughter then.

Which was fine. They laughed together, in a tangle of limbs, and Malfoy carefully took Harry’s glasses off and put them on the table, which rendered everything soft-focus, and then there was more kissing, and the knocking of an elbow each into table legs, and redemption for the sofa cushion as it was dragged down and made into a pillow for them both.

‘This is bound to end in disaster,’ Malfoy told him.

‘We can stop,’ Harry offered.

Malfoy laid a firm and restraining hand on his chest. ‘One thing I’ve learned, we’re both quite good at weathering disaster.’

Harry smiled. ‘I’ll keep you safe from Kreacher if you stop your father hexing me,’ he offered.

‘Kreacher will come round,’ Malfoy corrected him. ‘In time. Regulus was my second cousin, I’m a Black, really.’

Harry covered Malfoy’s hand with his own, surprised to see how similarly sized they were. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked. ‘We could just be friends, if you’d rather.’

‘No we couldn’t!’ Malfoy said with a laugh. ‘We’d be terrible at it. Anyway, you don’t get to snog me silly and then take it back. For a start, I know you’re sober.’

‘Completely,’ Harry agreed.

‘Good.’ Malfoy leaned over and kissed Harry lightly. ‘But we should probably take things a bit slowly. Because Luna’s sofa is not ideal. And not everyone has been off shagging Charlie Weasley.’

‘Actually, almost everybody …’

‘Shut up, Potter.’ And Malfoy kissed him again to show it was without malice. ‘We should get some sleep. We need to get up early in the morning.’

‘Before six,’ Harry agreed. ‘Tallinn’s two hours ahead, and we’ll need to stop by my place for a Portkey.’

‘If we sleep with our clothes on, that’s ten extra minutes in the morning.’

‘And it gives even odds we’ll be able to take things slowly tonight,’ Harry teased. ‘Unless you’d rather I slept on the armchair.’

‘No,’ said Malfoy, hauling them both to their feet and moving the table out into the centre of the room. He Transfigured the sofa into a broad bed, with what looked like good linen sheets. ‘But shoes off. I prefer to sleep on the right side. You?’

‘Left. That could be the basis for a successful ongoing thing right there.’

‘An “ongoing thing”. Potter, you suave romantic fool.’

‘Shut up.’ Harry kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, pronouncing it ‘Surprisingly comfortable.’

‘My family have a lot of good household spells,’ Malfoy said, carefully undoing his laces and leaving his boots beside the bed with a sock tucked into each. ‘Malfoy Manor is really a two-bedroom bungalow underneath all the enchantments.’

Harry laughed, and Malfoy looked pleased. He climbed into bed, a little awkwardly, and turned out the lights. Harry felt the shift as Malfoy turned to him, he reached out until he could touch him.

‘Are you going to get in trouble?’ Malfoy asked.

‘Hardly. Ron and Kingsley were genuinely impressed with you, and since we’ve caught the real culprit, I’m afraid it will go down as a great success on my part, rather than shameful rule-breaking.’

‘No, I meant, your friends, and your work. I mean, I’m … well, I’m who I am.’

Harry wished he could see Malfoy’s face. ‘Back at school, Ron was convinced I was obsessed with you. It will just give him another irritating proof of his own superiority.’ He could feel Malfoy smile against his hand.

‘You were usually trying to hex me back then,’ Malfoy reminded him.

‘I was confused. It was a trying time. What about you? Are you going to be all right?’

Malfoy nodded. ‘Though I fear Luna and Milly will strike up a friendship.’

‘That is genuinely frightening,’ Harry agreed. He allowed Malfoy to pull him close, and rested his hand on the stretch of bare skin where Malfoy’s shirt had pulled loose, resisting the temptation to explore.

‘And I don’t want to think about Pansy’s reaction if there’s an afterlife.’

Harry kept a tactful silence.

‘But for a day with as many awful things in it as this one has contained, it’s ended up very well.’

And then he kissed Harry sleepily, and Harry kissed him back, and considered suggesting they decamp to Grimmauld Place, where there was coffee and privacy, but by the time he’d formulated the plan, he was mostly asleep, too.

Which is why when he saw Luna tip-toeing down the stairs in the moonlight a little while later, with a chessboard tucked under her arm, he at first assumed he was dreaming. She snuck past them to stow it on a bookshelf, then turned to creep back out, pausing at the stairs to whisper, ‘I knew you were fibbing, Draco.’

And Harry felt Draco’s face curve up into a smile, and his hair moved with Malfoy’s whispered reply of, ‘And I knew you were quite right.’ The explanation of which, like everything else, could wait until tomorrow.