FIC: All the Answers - Chapter 19
Posting from work, hahaha... >.>
Title: All the Answers
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 8800
Disclaimer: It's not mine. JKR is the brilliant mind behind HP.
Notes: This is a post-HBP 7th year fic that is not compliant with Deathly Hallows at all. Many, many thanks to my awesome beta, lksnarry1!
Summary: Horcruxes, former enemies showing up out of nowhere, and the usual teenage drama on top of it all - Harry isn't sure how he's ever going to make it through all this. But since when has conquering evil ever been easy?
--> All chapters can be found here. <--
previous chapter
~~Chapter 19~~
Later in the afternoon, after they’d finished eating and Harry had told Dobby and Kreacher they could go back to Hogwarts, the four of them found themselves in the drawing room again. Hermione was curled up in one of the armchairs with a book in her lap, while Ron and Draco were each trying to prove their claim that they were the best in their year at Wizard’s Chess.
Harry watched them play, absently wishing there was a Muggle television here he could plop his arse in front of instead. He wanted something to do that required no concentration. Chess was beyond him at the moment, and frankly he wasn’t sure how the other two were managing to focus on the game either. He still had a headache, despite taking an hour long nap earlier, and Draco really didn’t look much better.
If anything, he seemed even paler than he’d been before.
Grimmauld Place was quiet around them, same as it had been since they’d arrived back that morning. Harry wondered again where everyone was. He’d gotten used to various Order members stomping around the place when they were living here before, and the traffic level had only gone up with the addition of the Weasleys moving in the day before last. So, the silence was a little unnerving.
He frowned. “Ron, where do you think your parents are?”
Ron didn’t hear him; instead he watched as his knight took out one of Draco’s rooks and laughed almost evilly when Draco swore at him. “Sorry, mate, what?” he asked distractedly, making a rude gesture at Draco before looking over his shoulder at Harry.
“Your parents,” Harry said again, a bit impatiently. Hermione looked up curiously from her book. “They aren’t here.”
“Huh.” Ron glanced around the room as if he expected them to pop up from behind the couch. “You know, I didn’t notice. I keep forgetting they’re staying here.”
“Is it unusual for them to step out for a bit?” Draco asked, frowning down at the chess board.
Ron shrugged. “Who knows what they get up to in their old age, I’ve stopped paying attention. Better for my mental health.”
“Ron,” Hermione admonished, and Ron sent her a cheeky grin.
Harry wished they would focus. “It’s just a little weird that no one’s here.”
“We could floo Fred and George and ask them?” Hermione suggested, but Ron waved her off.
“They probably just went out for the day, it’s no big deal,” he said. “Stop worrying.”
“But they would have noticed we weren’t here this morning,” Harry said. “Your mum wouldn’t have left until we got back.”
This seemed to catch Ron’s attention. “…Maybe she left a note?”
“Doubt it,” Harry said, looking skeptical.
Ron turned around in his seat, his brow furrowed now. “Well-” A faint rushing noise from the other room suddenly interrupted him, and then the unmistakable sound of someone moving around had Ron releasing a breath and gesturing at the doorway. “There,” he said. “The floo, that’ll be them coming back from wherever they were.” He stood up and headed toward the door, calling as he went. “Mum! That you? We were just-”
But it wasn’t them and Ron stopped short again, abruptly backpedaling as the last person Harry expected to see swept into the room.
“Do I look like your mother, Weasley?” Snape drawled, arms crossed over his chest and appearing for all the world like his presence in Grimmauld Place was a totally normal and regular thing.
Harry’s eyes went wide behind his glasses. “Professor!” he exclaimed, and was quickly echoed by the other three.
Snape surveyed the room briefly before his gaze landed on the chess board. “This is your emergency? I see the problem - Mr. Malfoy, you do realize you’re about to lose to a Gryffindor?”
Draco scowled, but Harry jumped up before he could say anything. “Professor, what are you doing, you can’t be here!” he said, shooting a worried look in the direction Snape had come from. “What if someone else sees you? They could be back at any moment!”
“They won’t be back for awhile yet,” Snape said, and then in a swift subject change added, “Nobody here appears to be dying.”
Harry frowned. “How do you know that?”
“Because I have eyes, Potter, and you’re all sitting here looking perfectly content-”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Snape merely raised an eyebrow at him. “You sent me a rather urgent owl,” he said. “I assumed you’d be here. You went to the cave this morning as planned, correct?”
“…Yes,” Harry said after a brief pause. He slowly sat back down again, watching Snape closely.
“And the Horcrux?”
“We got it.” Harry nodded towards Draco. “Or Malfoy did, anyway.”
“We barely made it out of the damn place alive,” Ron spoke up. “You might have warned us! Er - professor,” he tacked on sheepishly.
“I wasn’t fully aware of what exactly you’d be facing,” Snape said. He moved further into the room, finding an empty armchair and sitting down. “Where is it, then?”
Harry glanced at Draco, who lifted his chin a bit. “I destroyed it,” he said.
If Snape was at all surprised that they’d already gotten rid of the Horcrux, he didn’t show it. “So that’s another one down,” was all he said. “Good.”
Harry looked at Draco again and this time the other boy met his eyes. Somehow, Harry knew they were wondering the same thing. “You couldn’t tell?” he asked Snape curiously.
“Tell what?”
“When we destroyed it - you didn’t feel anything?”
“What should I have been able to feel?” Snape frowned slightly. “It contained a part of the Dark Lord’s soul, not mine.”
“Well.” Harry gestured helplessly at his forehead, and now both Ron and Hermione looked confused, too. “When Malfoy used the killing curse on the cup, it sort of…exploded. And it hurt - my scar, I mean. But it’s done that before, sometimes when Voldemort is…angry, I guess. It hurt a lot in fifth year.”
Snape was watching Harry carefully. “Your fifth year was when the Dark Lord was trying to use your own mind against you. He was constantly inside your head, which is something I’m certain he doesn’t do anymore. Not after it backfired on him.”
“But the whole reason he could get into my head in the first place was because we have some kind of connection, right?” Harry asked. “My scar doesn’t usually hurt much anymore, now that Voldemort’s keeping out, but it did today. This morning.” He glanced at Draco. “And…so did Malfoy’s Dark Mark. We were assuming it’s because it has the same kind of connection to - you know. Him.”
That finally seemed to drag some emotion out of Snape, and a faintly startled look passed over his face. “What do you mean, it hurt?” he asked Draco. “The same as it does when the Dark Lord calls a meeting?”
Draco shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, it was worse.”
“Has it ever done that before?”
“Well…” Draco hesitated. “Yes.” He eyes slid towards Harry, and Snape noticed.
“Explain,” he said tersely.
Draco arched his eyebrows questioningly at Harry, and when the other boy nodded he shrugged and did as told. “Whenever Potter touches my mark, it seems to - get a bit out of control. It burns, so much that I have a hard time focusing on anything else. And Potter’s scar hurts, too.”
“Harry, is that true?” Hermione asked, frowning.
“What the hell are you doing touching Malfoy’s Dark Mark?” said Ron, looking a bit disturbed at the thought.
“It’s only happened maybe two times,” Harry replied. “And by accident. But - yeah. If I get anywhere near it, my scar acts up again. Today was the worst it’s ever been, but it wasn’t because I had any contact with the Dark Mark. It was because of the Horcrux. We thought, what with the connection to Voldemort and everything, it was because he felt that part of his soul being destroyed and then in turn…so did we…?” He trailed off somewhat uncertainly.
“You’ve never felt it before when one of the Horcruxes was destroyed,” Snape pointed out.
Harry frowned, thinking. “Probably because Voldemort never felt it. Until now, anyway. Dumbledore said something about how Voldemort’s soul is too mutilated for him to be able to feel when a piece gets destroyed. But maybe with less of them around, now he can?”
“I suppose,” Snape said slowly. “But there’s also a chance that just because you felt something, it doesn’t mean the Dark Lord did.”
Draco shook his head. “No, he definitely would’ve noticed; I thought my whole bloody arm was going to fall off.” He hesitated for a moment, and then continued, “Before, I thought maybe the Dark Lord would be able to sense that I was with Potter if he felt him through the mark. That he might know it was him touching me and come looking for us.”
Snape looked thoughtful as he considered everything they were saying, but Ron and Hermione were another story entirely. They had both gone pale and Hermione in particular seemed extremely alarmed. “Harry,” she choked out. “Do you mean to tell me that you knew about this - about the connection and you knew it was possible that You-Know-Who would be able to find you through Draco?!”
Harry winced. Probably, he should have mentioned that bit to them sooner…
Hermione took his silence as a yes. She made a distressed sound and covered her mouth with her hands.
“And you’re still letting him hang around?!” Ron exclaimed, color abruptly filling his face as he turned a bright red that clashed horribly with his hair. “He’s - he-”
“Destroyed a Horcrux for us?” Harry supplied blithely. “And nearly killed himself doing so?”
Ron scowled. “That’s not the point here,” he said angrily, but to his credit he turned and gave Draco a helpless sort of shrug and added, “I mean - look, no offense, mate, we appreciate it and all, but this…” He threw a hand in the direction of Draco’s left arm. “If that’s going to put Harry in danger, then we can’t-”
“I get it,” Draco interrupted. “I do. You’re worried about your precious Golden Boy, it’s understandable. But like I told Potter when he first found out, it’s really not as easy to find me as all that. The Dark Lord would still have to determine my location, and I’m usually Occluding constantly to keep him out.”
Hermione turned her attention back to Snape. “Professor?”
Snape didn’t say anything for a moment, still looking as though he was thinking things over. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows braced on his knees, and rested his chin on his folded hands. “Draco is mostly correct,” he said slowly. “If he’s utilizing his Occlumency skills, and Potter is as well, then it’s unlikely the Dark Lord would be able to discover your location. However,” he continued loudly, just as Ron and Hermione had begun to look a little relieved, “there are also many other things he’s currently involved with that are keeping his full attention otherwise distracted. If he were to actively look for you… Well.”
Harry didn’t need him to finish that sentence. “…He would probably find us.”
“He is one of the most powerful Legilimens there is,” Snape said in a somewhat dry tone. “And if your theory is true and the Dark Lord does actually notice when a piece of his soul is destroyed, then I’d say you caught his attention well and proper this morning.”
“I really think he does,” Harry said. “Maybe he didn’t before because there were so many pieces, but I think he knows when something happens to one of his Horcruxes now. He can feel it.”
“What about the ring?” Ron asked. “You think he felt when Dumbledore destroyed that one?”
“I’m not sure,” Harry said. “I mean, I didn’t feel it, so maybe at that point he still couldn’t…”
“Or maybe he did and that was part of the reason he wanted Dumbledore dead,” Draco suggested.
“You’re right,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “The timing certainly is interesting.”
“It’s possible,” Snape allowed. “But also unlikely. How would he have known it was Dumbledore? And if he did manage to find out…well, since Dumbledore is no longer with us, we can at least remain hopeful that he doesn’t know who did it this time.”
“He’ll figure that out easily enough,” Harry muttered.
Snape nodded somewhat reluctantly. “It’s probably only a matter of time,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean he’ll know Draco is with you. Especially if you didn’t have any contact with his Dark Mark today.”
Harry shook his head. “He’ll figure that out, too, it’s got to be obvious by now. There are too many clues floating around. Bellatrix actually saw me, for Merlin’s sake. Not to mention what Malfoy’s assignment is. All signs point to us being together.”
“Assignment?” Ron asked sharply. “And what’s that, exactly?”
Harry winced again and Draco’s eyes slid shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, well done, Potter.”
“Harry?” Hermione said.
“Guys…” Harry sighed. “It’s nothing. We’ve had it out already, and - Malfoy was supposed to do something, Voldemort gave him another task, but-”
“Like with Dumbledore?” Ron cut in.
“Yeah. Only…not quite as extreme…”
“Yes,” Draco drawled. “I’m not supposed to kill you, Potter, only turn you over to the Dark Lord.”
Hermione went pale all over again and Ron gaped at the pair of them. “What?!” he shouted.
“Thanks for that,” Harry grumbled, sending a glare in Draco’s direction. He got a smirk in return.
“Oh, you’re quite welcome.”
“Harry James Potter, I cannot believe you!” Hermione said shrilly, frowning and furrowing her brow and looking every bit like Mrs. Weasley when she was getting ready to scold one her sons. She opened and closed her mouth several times, and then gave up and threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even know what to do with you right now. How could you not tell us-!”
“Hermione…” Harry started to say, but she crossed her arms and turned her head away from him.
“No,” she said. “Don’t talk to me right now. I can’t even look at you.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’re dating your mother, you realize that, right?” he said to Ron, who promptly scowled at him.
“Just shut up, alright?” he said. “Are you serious? You’re supposed to turn him over? How the hell are we supposed to trust you now when you’ve probably just been trying to infiltrate our defenses the entire time?!”
“Ron,” Harry tried to interrupt, but Draco spoke over him.
“Do near sacrifices mean nothing to you people?” he cried. “Not to mention it’s been bloody months now that I’ve been with Potter and he’s FINE. What does a bloke have to do to get a little credit around here?!”
“Try being fucking honest with us, you stupid-”
“Potter knew! It’s not my fault he didn’t tell you!”
Ron abruptly fell silent, and even Hermione glanced back over her shoulder at the lot of them. They both glared at Harry.
“Er…” Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “To be fair, I’ve only known a few days…”
“NOT HELPING,” Draco said loudly, as Ron looked ready to start yelling again.
“If you’re all quite finished,” Snape suddenly cut in. “Save your petty arguments for after I’m gone, I don’t want to hear all your whining.” He directed a hard look at Ron. “He destroyed a Horcrux for you, Weasley, what more do you want?”
“That’s not the point-”
“It is the point!” Snape said forcefully. “It’s the most important thing right now! Now stop this childish behavior at once and let’s get back to the matter at hand.”
Ron sunk down in his chair, crossing his arms with a sullen glare. “Fine,” he bit out. “It just would have been nice if someone had told us about this - all of this - instead of keeping secrets.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep secrets!” Harry said, bristling. “We’ve just been busy and I haven’t-”
“I swear, if I was still your teacher I’d take fifty points from each of you right now,” Snape interrupted in a sharp tone. “For the last time, all of you, shut. up.” When they managed to remain in a sulky silence for a good ten seconds, Snape nodded. “Good. Now, Potter, as you pointed out, it does seem…unlikely that the Dark Lord would not be able to come to the correct conclusion in regards to Draco’s whereabouts. And if he does realize you’re aware of the Horcruxes, things will undoubtedly become more problematic for the two of you. But putting that aside for the moment - this business with your scar and the Dark Mark is concerning.” He looked back and forth between Harry and Draco. “It might have had something to do with your proximity to the Horcrux when you destroyed it. Perhaps being that close to the Dark Lord’s soul triggered such reactions, in addition to whatever the Dark Lord himself may have felt.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “But what about the other times? When there was no Horcrux?”
Snape frowned. “…I can’t be sure,” he said after a slight pause. “But I’ll look into it.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us about any of this,” Hermione said weakly, ignoring the exasperated look Snape gave her. “Honestly, Harry.”
“I’m sorry!” Harry offered up his most remorseful look, hoping she’d take pity on him. “I meant to, I just - forgot!”
Ron snorted. “Forgot, my arse,” he grumbled.
Snape gave an aggravated sigh. “I give up. Was that all you needed, Potter?” he asked, annoyance coloring his tone. “I was actually in the middle of something important when I received your owl, I need to get back before I’m missed.”
“No,” Harry said quickly, straightening up in his chair. “No, there’s one more thing - it’s actually the main reason we wrote you, the other stuff just came up first.”
“Well, get on with it,” Snape said impatiently.
“Right.” Harry scooted his chair closer to the table Ron and Draco had been using to play chess, and then he hesitated. This actually was important, and Harry suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted to know just what Draco’s injury might mean. But they needed help and Snape would have answers - hopefully - so Harry tipped his head in Draco’s direction and spoke. “Something happened to his hand. When we were in the cave.”
Snape nodded, looking unsurprised. “I did tell you it would likely leave a mark.”
“Yeah,” Draco said irritably, “but you didn’t say anything about me being cursed.” He lifted his arm and rested it on the table, then let his fingers unfurl.
Snape’s eyes immediately went wide.
This alone was more worrying than anything else they had talked about so far. Snape quickly stood from his seat and crossed to where Draco was, picking up his hand and staring at it. Several long seconds passed before Draco started squirming uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to say something but Snape shushed him before he even got the chance, still eyeing his hand, and Draco subsided with a glower.
Then all at once, Snape swore. “This curse is similar to the one Dumbledore received when destroying the ring,” he said.
“…I take it that’s a bad thing,” Draco said faintly.
Harry’s stomach clenched. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I…thought it might be the same one,” he said after a moment. “It looks like it. But it’s not? It’s only similar?”
“If it was the same one, Draco would likely be dead by now,” Snape said bluntly, and what little color was left in Draco’s face drained away as he swallowed nervously.
“Is there anything you can do?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
Ron nodded. “Yeah, there’s got to be something-”
“There’s no cure,” Snape said in a sharp tone. “Or there wasn’t for the curse Dumbledore received, at least. He only survived because he was an exceptionally smart wizard and did some quick spellwork, and he immediately came to me so I could give him a potion that contained the curse to his hand. I was working on finding a cure last year, but then - well. I’ll have to start my research again.” He pulled out his wand and began waving it over Draco’s hand, muttering some kind of long, involved spell as he did.
“No cure?” Draco repeated as he watched Snape work. “So, if you can’t figure something out, then this could also be - you’re saying this might kill me?”
Snape’s lips pressed thinly together after he finished his enchantment, and he remained quiet for a moment. “Let’s hope not,” he eventually said.
Draco’s eyes widened and he stared at Snape in horrified disbelief. “This might kill me,” he said again. “You sent me to get that fucking Horcrux and you knew it might KILL me.”
“There were no other options.”
“You were an option!”
“The Order needs the information I provide them. I couldn’t risk my position.” There was something that could have been regret in Snape’s voice, but Draco clearly didn’t hear it. He just shook his head, trying again to pull his hand from Snape’s grasp, but Snape still didn’t let him go. “Draco,” he said forcefully. “I’ve a feeling the Dark Lord would have wanted this curse’s victim to survive.” Draco looked up angrily as Snape spoke. “That way he would know who betrayed him and could punish him accordingly.”
“…Oh, well that makes me feel so much better,” Draco snapped.
Snape exhaled harshly through his nose before dropping Draco’s gaze and peering closely at his hand again instead. “The spell won’t be enough,” he muttered. “I’ll have to send you some potions, as well.”
Draco scowled, but didn’t say anything further.
Harry dragged a hand through his hair. Deep breaths weren’t enough for dealing with this news, he decided. He felt as though a Dementor had just accidentally drifted into the room, the way ice was suddenly building up in his gut. “If you can’t find - how long does he…?”
Snape didn’t answer.
“Dumbledore must have lasted at least a year,” Ron said.
“But he looked terrible by the end of it,” Harry mumbled.
“I’ll find the counter-curse,” Snape said. “This is something the Dark Lord came up with himself, I just have to - figure it out. It might not be as complicated as the curse that was on the ring.” He looked more frustrated than Harry had ever seen him, and he was reminded again of the Unbreakable Vow Snape had made with Draco’s mother. For some reason, it made Harry feel a little better. Snape would work it out. He’d fix this. He had to; he was still supposed to be protecting Draco, wasn’t he?
“A-alright then,” Hermione said nervously, before she visibly steeled herself. “Is there anything we need to do in the meantime, Professor?”
“…Yes,” Snape replied after a moment. “You need to avoid leaving Grimmauld Place as much as possible.” He finally let go of Draco’s hand and abruptly turned on his heel, heading for the door. “Other than that, proceed as normal. Draco, I’ll send those potions back by owl.”
“Wait, why can’t we leave?” Ron asked.
Snape paused, looking over his shoulder. “You can. And she can.” He leveled a glare on Harry and Draco. “But unless you want the Dark Lord showing up for an unexpected visit, you two need to remain here until I find out just how much he knows about what you’re doing.”
Harry frowned. “What are we supposed to do until then?”
“Do you know where or even what the next Horcrux is?”
“...No.”
“Well.” Snape raised an eyebrow. “There you go.”
Harry sighed. Research. His favorite.
Snape turned to leave, and then paused yet again. “One more thing,” he said. “Although I’m sure you’d hear the news soon enough anyway, but - the Ministry has fallen. The Dark Lord has had some of his men planted there for weeks and earlier today his Death Eaters staged a coup d'état that resulted in the Minister’s death. The Order had just been spotted in the Ministry when I took my leave.”
He didn’t wait for any of them to comment on the bombshell he’d just dropped, instead sweeping out of the room in the same manner in which he’d entered.
He left nothing but a stunned silence in his wake.
* * *
Ron was in a state of barely contained panic.
“What did he mean, the Ministry’s fallen? There was a coup d’état? And the Order’s there - that must be where my parents went! Bloody hell, what if my whole family’s there - Harry, we have to go help!”
…Okay, so perhaps not contained panic at all.
Hermione was trying to calm him down, but Harry couldn’t blame him; he was up and pacing about the room himself, cursing Voldemort, cursing his Death Eaters, cursing Snape. “This is why he had us go find the Horcrux today!” he complained, digging his hands back into his hair. “The beach will be closed, my arse. He just wanted us out of the way again!”
“Harry, come on, we have to go!”
“This is the second time he’s done this - and I thought we could trust him! He had to know this attack was going to happen, we could have stopped it!”
“Do you think we should Apparate straight there? Maybe we should floo in - Harry, come on, my parents-”
“WILL BOTH OF YOU PLEASE SHUT UP?!” Draco suddenly shouted, jumping up out of his seat and grabbing both of their shoulders. “Merlin, it’s like you’re trying to have a conversation in two different languages - do you realize neither of you is even remotely paying attention to what the other is saying?” He shoved them in the direction of the couch. “Sit down before you hurt yourselves. Granger, explain to these two idiots why going to the Ministry is exactly what we’re not going to do right now, would you?”
“What?!” Ron exclaimed. “Sod off, Malfoy, it is what we’re going to do-”
“No it’s not!” Hermione interrupted quickly. “It absolutely is not, Ron, we’re going to stay here like Professor Snape wants us to and let the Order handle the Ministry!”
“Hermione, we can’t stay here,” Harry said, frowning. “They need our help!”
Draco gave him an exasperated look. “They don’t need the help of a couple barely of age wizards this late into the game, Potter, don’t be thick. It’s been hours; if there was any fighting it’s probably all done by now anyway. I imagine they’re just dealing with the aftermath.”
“Snape said the Order had just gotten there when he left!” Ron said angrily.
“And he probably left ages ago,” Hermione said. “Honestly, Ron, he received our owl, didn’t he? Do you think Hedwig just flew into the middle of the Ministry - into a possible battle - and Professor Snape miraculously had time to take a coffee break and read a letter without anyone noticing?”
Harry and Ron glanced at each other, before directing stubborn looks at the other two again. “I still think we should go,” Harry said, and Draco let out a very put upon sigh.
“Snape just told you why we can’t leave.”
“You can’t leave - Voldemort won’t be able to find me if I don’t have you tagging along like a giant homing beacon.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what you just said, but - just shut up, Potter, alright? Snape doesn’t want me or you leaving, so we’re not going to. End of story.”
“Draco’s right.” Hermione took a seat beside Ron, resting her hand on his arm. “Ron, I’m sure everyone is fine. Somebody would have come for us if anything had happened to one of them, you know they would have.”
Ron looked like he wanted to argue some more, but all at once the tension left his shoulders and he collapsed back against the couch. “I’m really getting sick of being sent away when something’s about to happen.”
“You and me both,” Harry muttered, crossing his arms.
“He does it for your own good,” Draco said. “Otherwise, instead of stomping around here in a huff afterward, completely safe and unharmed, you’d be pulling your wands out at the first sign of danger and gallivanting off to Merlin knows where, only to get yourselves killed.” He propped his hands on hips and lifted his eyes skyward again. “Gryffindors.”
“What are we supposed to do, then?” Harry asked. “I can’t just sit here and act like everything’s okay!”
“I could go back to kicking Weasley’s arse in chess,” Draco said, to which Ron promptly snorted.
“You wish, Malfoy. I would’ve won in two more moves.”
“We could make dinner?” Hermione suggested, and then flushed slightly when all three boys gave her identical incredulous looks. “I’m serious! They’re probably all exhausted and I’m sure they’ve had a more difficult day than even we did-”
“That’s debatable,” Draco muttered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’ll keep our minds off things until they get back. And I know they’ll appreciate it.”
“Slight flaw in your plan, Hermione,” Harry said. “You’re assuming these two even know how to turn on a stove. I mean, this git here was raised by house elves.” He jerked a thumb in Draco’s direction, and then tipped his head toward Ron. “And Mrs. Weasley’s probably never missed a day of cooking in her life.”
“Hey,” Ron said, all prepared to be offended, but then he paused. “…Wait, no, you’re right.”
“Excuse you, I was not raised by house elves,” Draco said. “And you have to be nice to me; I’m dying, remember?”
Harry’s stomach did that weird lurching thing again. “You’re not dying, shut up about that.” He peered closely at Draco. “…Are you feeling alright, though? Maybe you should lie down.”
Draco waved him off. “Oh, I’m fine. Fantastic, actually. I’ve got an excellent case of denial going on right now; I expect I’ll be able to make it last for awhile.”
The corner of Harry’s mouth tugged upwards in amusement, despite everything. “Well then, I hardly have to be nice to you if you’re feeling fantastic.”
“Thank you, Potter, your compassion is overwhelming.”
“I know, I try.”
“Are we cooking, then?” Ron asked.
Harry lifted an eyebrow at him. “You mean, are Hermione and I cooking? I guess. You and Malfoy can - set the table. Or something.”
“Set the table?” Draco looked as if they had asked him to clean out the hippogriff stalls at Hogwarts. “You know, on second thought, maybe I will lie down…”
“Nice try, Malfoy,” Harry said as he stood from the couch. He grabbed Draco’s sleeve so he wouldn’t be able to escape and pulled him toward the kitchen. “You can handle it. Hermione, what should we make?”
They were halfway through dinner preparations when there was a familiar rushing sound that indicated the floo was being used, and Ron’s parents trudged into the room.
“Mum! Dad!” Ron cried, rushing over to them. “Are you alright? Where are Fred and George? Is everyone okay? What happened?!”
“Steady on, Ron, one question at a time,” Mr. Weasley said tiredly, sinking down into one of the chairs at the table.
“Your brothers are fine,” Mrs. Weasley said. She clasped the sides of Ron’s face and dragged him down so she could plant a kiss on his cheek, then pulled back and looked him over closely. “And you? None of you were here this morning, where did you go?”
“Not important, mum - everyone’s really okay?”
She nodded, kissed him again, and then finally let him go. “Fred and George went back to their flat, but they should be coming back here in a bit. There were a few injuries on our side but everyone’s alive. Remus is going to have to take it easy for awhile.”
Harry’s head jerked around. “Remus? What happened? Where is he?”
“Here,” Remus called as he limped into the room, arm around Tonks’ shoulder as she helped him.
“Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks said, looking exhausted but smiling all the same. Her hair was bright blue today. She nodded at the others in turn. “Ron, Hermione - hello, who’s this?” Her eyes landed on Draco.
“Er…your cousin, actually,” Harry said. “Tonks, this is Mal - Draco.”
“Maldraco?” Tonks repeated, raising her eyebrows. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Draco rolled his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He’d shoved himself into a corner of the room when everyone entered and was looking highly uncomfortable. “It’s just Draco,” he said guardedly. “Draco Malfoy. I’m-”
“Oh, Aunt Narcissa’s son, duh!” She grinned at him. “Right, I’d heard you were here. Hanging around with Harry now, eh?”
“It’s quite different from how they were in school,” Remus said dryly. He grimaced a bit as Tonks helped him sit down in one of the chairs.
Ron turned to his dad. “I thought Harry said you weren’t going to tell anyone?”
Mr. Weasley shrugged. “We told Harry that we wouldn’t tell anyone unless we thought it was necessary.”
“…So, naturally, you thought it was necessary right away,” Harry guessed. He didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated by the fact, but it really only confirmed his suspicions that word had spread through the Order.
“From the very beginning,” Mrs. Weasley said with a brisk nod. But then she smiled. “Draco’s been nothing but a gentleman, though, and he really hasn’t been a problem at all - you understand that we just felt more comfortable with the Order knowing, right? For your safety, as well as ours.”
“And his, for that matter,” Mr. Weasley added. Draco scowled, but didn’t say anything.
“So, tell us what happened,” Hermione spoke up, leaving Harry at the stove and darting over to take a seat across from Remus. “You’re alright, truly? Oh, this is just awful. We heard the news about the Minister, I can’t believe-”
“You did?” Remus interrupted, looking surprised. Hermione paled a bit and abruptly shut her mouth.
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Weasley said slowly. “Since the minute we walked through the door, you’ve been acting like you’re aware of what’s happened.”
A startled look passed over Mrs. Weasley’s face. “You knew to ask about your brothers.”
“W-well,” Ron fumbled for words. “They’re in the Order, you’re in the Order, I just thought-”
“You knew about the Minister,” Remus reminded them.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, and then Harry sighed. “Someone told us, we already knew.”
“But this just happened!” Mrs. Weasley cried. “Does this have to do with your absence this morning? Where were you?”
“We can’t tell you, mum,” Ron said. “We had something important to do, that’s all.”
“And then we met up with someone about an hour ago, and he told us,” Harry continued. “We know the Ministry’s fallen.”
“Who?” Mrs. Weasley demanded. “It must have been someone who was there, who?”
“Molly, leave it,” Remus said when no one offered up any sort of response. “We know they have some sort of mission we can’t be involved in, this is just another part of that.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but Harry circumvented anymore of her questions by shoving a cup of tea into her hands. “Mrs. Weasley, please sit down. You look exhausted and you’ve obviously had a rough day.”
“Yes, we’ve made everyone dinner!” Hermione said, jumping up again to help Harry finish cooking. “It should be ready soon.”
“Smells good,” Tonks said. “And I’m starving.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Ron asked. “What does it mean exactly that the Ministry’s fallen?”
“I’m out of a job, for one,” Mr. Weasley said. Ron gave him a wide-eyed look, while Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. Mrs. Weasley rubbed his arm comfortingly.
“But…” Ron looked back and forth between his parents. “How - what will you do? Dad!”
“We’ll manage,” Mrs. Weasley said simply. Ron didn’t appear to believe that for a second.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “I just - how did we lose? Are there not enough people in the Order to fight back?”
“What you have to understand is that there wasn’t really a battle, per se,” Mr. Weasley explained. Harry and Hermione started placing various plates of food around the table as he spoke, and he shot them a grateful look before continuing. “You-Know-Who has evidently had this planned for weeks - possibly months. His men have been working in the Ministry right under our noses, people I never would’ve expected to turn to the other side.”
“Although some of them might claim to be under the influence of the Imperius curse,” Remus added. “And Moody suspects they’ve been using it on some of the higher-ups, as well. Most notably, the men Scrimgeour worked in close contact with. So when it came time to put their plain into action, it was all too easy for them to assassinate him.”
Harry finally sat down at the table himself, frowning in confusion. “If there wasn’t a battle, then what…?”
“Kingsley realized what had happened first,” Mr. Weasley said. “He got word out to those of us in the Order who already worked at the Ministry, then Remus and the others showed up after. The plan was to get to the Minister’s office and take down the men who were there, but we were met with more…resistance than expected.”
“That, and it was difficult not to arouse suspicion as to what we were doing,” said Remus. “Especially as some of us-” He gestured at himself. “-aren’t normally at the Ministry.”
“Didn’t help that the Head Auror was one of the people on their side,” Tonks said around a forkful of food. “Whether under the Imperius or on his own, I still don’t know. How they managed to slip that one by the lot of us…” She gave a disgusted shake of her head, and her hair melted from blue to red. “We all need to be retrained if you ask me, that’s damn well unacceptable.”
“As other workers in the Ministry began noticing something was going on, they tried to stop us,” Remus said.
Hermione gasped. “Stop you? Why?”
“They can’t be faulted,” Mr. Weasley said. “When half of your department heads are supporting the people who have overthrown the Minister - and remember, the Minister’s death wasn’t public knowledge at this point - well, then it just looks like you have a bunch of random, possibly dangerous wizards trying to get to the Minister’s office for no discernable reason. It comes across as rather a large threat, and anyone who was You-Know-Who’s man made sure everyone not involved saw us as such.”
Remus picked up from where he’d left off. “And since we were considered a threat, they obviously tried to impede us. It was chaos, mostly. No one had any real idea what was going on and there was panic everywhere. Meanwhile, Scrimgeour hadn’t been dead for an hour yet and Voldemort’s men were already planning a statement and announcement as to who would be Minister next.”
“A statement that oh-so-conveniently named us as the Minister’s assassins.” Tonks set her utensils down and slumped back in her chair. “A group of ‘overzealous Dumbledore supporters, acting out against the Ministry in a crazed show of revenge for an unfortunate incident that wasn’t even the Ministry’s fault’ is what they said, I believe.”
Remus nodded. “With the explicit mention of one of them being a werewolf,” he said dryly. “Anyway, by the time we were in any position to take on Scrimgeour’s actual murderers, many more innocent people had gotten involved and the odds were fifty-to-one against us. Then the announcement was made, and there wasn’t much fighting we could do without worrying about hurting someone who was only there by accident and oblivious to what the truth of the matter was.”
“So by then we just needed to get out or risk being captured ourselves,” Mrs. Weasley spoke up. She’d barely touched any of her food.
There was silence for a moment as they all stared at their plates, and then Hermione asked softly, “So…what now? What does that mean for the rest of the Wizarding world?”
“You can expect a fairly rapid change of regime, for one,” Remus replied. “And most people won’t even be aware that it’s all being directed by Voldemort. The amount of power he gains by having the Ministry under his thumb… It’s extremely worrying. He can change laws, add laws, monitor the floo network, control how much information gets out to the public through the Daily Prophet - the list goes on and on. We’ll all have to be extremely careful now. He’ll turn everyone in the Wizarding world against us just by making us wanted criminals.”
“He can influence things at Hogwarts now, too,” Tonks added. “He can place whoever he wants there as a teacher.”
“Blimey, it’ll be like Umbridge all over again,” Ron muttered to Harry.
“And,” Tonks spoke up again, “it’s pretty much guaranteed that one of the first things he’ll do is release his remaining supporters from Azkaban.”
Harry’s eyes widened and darted toward the end of the table - only Draco wasn’t there. Come to think of it, he’d either been extremely quiet or, more likely, he’d disappeared awhile ago and Harry hadn’t noticed.
“I saw him carry a plate out,” Hermione said, and Harry felt himself go a bit red at the fact that she’d realized who he was looking for without him even having to say anything.
“I should - go see if he’s okay,” he mumbled, pushing away from the table. Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione gave him an amused look. Harry ignored them both. “Will you be here for awhile?” he directed toward Remus and Tonks.
“Yup!” Tonks said with a grin. “Safest place to be right now and I know You-Know-Who will have his people out trying to track us down. Plus, Moody and some of the others are supposed to be stopping by for a meeting tonight.”
Harry nodded, returning her smile. “Great, then I’ll see you both later. I just - I’ll be right back. Shouldn’t be long. Just want to-”
“Go,” Hermione said, giving him a shove. “Ron and I will clean up.”
Ron gave a squawk of disapproval that nobody paid any attention to, and Harry grinned. “Right. Thanks, Hermione!” he said, and then bounded out of the room.
* * *
Standing outside Draco’s door a few minutes later, however, Harry wasn’t quite sure why he’d felt the need to come check up on him. What if he wanted to be left alone? Maybe that was why he had left the kitchen in the first place. Maybe he needed some time to accept what Snape had told him that afternoon, to come to terms with the curse he now had. The curse that might not have a cure-
Harry swiftly blocked out that line of thought and knocked on the door.
He waited a few moments, but the only reply he got was silence. Was Draco not even in there?
Curious, he checked the doorknob and found that it was unlocked, so he cautiously pushed the door open.
Draco turned from where he was sitting on the windowsill, raising his eyebrows when he spotted Harry. “Potter. What’s the point of knocking when you’re just going to come in anyway?”
“You didn’t tell me not to come in,” Harry pointed out as he stepped into the room. He made sure not to shut the door completely behind him, leaving it open just a crack. “You alright?”
“Are you going to ask me that every time you see me now?” Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.
“…Sorry.” Harry moved to sit down on the end of the bed. “Crazy day, though, huh?”
“Tell me about it.”
“I didn’t notice when you left.”
“Oh, well. I feel loved.” Draco looked out the window again. “I didn’t feel like being there if anyone else from the Order showed up.”
“Well, apparently they all know you’re with us,” Harry said dryly. “So they probably wouldn’t care if they saw you.”
Draco shrugged. “Still.”
“You missed an interesting bit of information.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Tonks - your cousin - she seems to think that now that the Ministry is under Voldemort’s control, one of the first things he’ll do is break the rest of his Death Eaters out of Azkaban.”
Draco’s shoulders tensed, but other than that he gave no sign that he’d even heard at first. “…So, my father…?”
“Yep.”
“He’ll try to find me.”
“You think?”
“Yes.” Draco turned back around again, meeting Harry’s eyes. “If he hears about - what I was supposed to do…he’ll want me to go through with it.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Anything to restore the Malfoy name in the Dark Lord’s eyes.”
“…He won’t have any more luck finding you than Voldemort will,” Harry said. “Not if you stay here.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And you’re not going to do it anyway, even if he does somehow get to you. Right?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “It actually physically pains me how little you all trust me at this point.”
“Right?”
“Yes, Potter.” Draco grunted as he pushed himself up from the windowsill and went to sit by Harry on the bed. Harry tried to subtly inch away, but Draco just gave him a look that said he’d noticed and thought Harry was being ridiculous. Then he smirked. “Why would I want to hand you over and risk losing all this lovely sexual tension we have going on between us?”
Harry felt his face go red. “There isn’t any - you have got to stop talking like that!”
“Why?” Draco asked, scooting in closer.
“Because!” Harry didn’t make any effort to hide his backing away this time; unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for him to go before his back hit the footboard.
Draco snorted. “Now there’s a good reason.”
“Malfoy, it’s been all of three days since - since Belgium. I can’t-”
“Oh, so I’m just moving too quickly for you?”
“Yes - no - that’s not what I meant!”
Draco leaned in. Harry’s eyes widened more the closer he got. “Then what did you mean?”
“I-” Harry couldn’t seem to form words with Draco right in front of him like that. “It’s just - not a good idea!”
“Why not? Honestly, I could use the distraction.”
“Earlier you were saying it was because you were bored,” Harry reminded him. “And - hard up.” He flushed again as he said it, but set his jaw determinedly and held Draco’s gaze.
Draco waved his hand around aimlessly. “So there are multiple excuses. All the more reason, right?”
“Malfoy…” The hand he was waving about caught Harry’s attention and he grabbed it, looking down at Draco’s blackened fingers for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “This is why you’re coming on so strong right now.”
“What?” Draco glanced at their hands and then yanked his back. “Yeah, what of it? I said I needed a distraction.” He scowled.
“It’s not going to make it go away-”
“No, but at least I won’t be thinking about it for five seconds!” Draco snapped. He spun around, planting both feet solidly on the floor, and hunched over his knees, face buried in his hands.
Harry fell silent. He watched the line of Draco’s back carefully and let out a soft, relieved breath when the other boy didn’t suddenly break out in sobs. After a moment he pulled his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged, and aimed for a sort of teasing smugness when he spoke. “Five seconds? Really, Malfoy? I think it’d be longer than that.”
Draco glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That an offer?”
Harry grinned a bit, but shook his head. “No.”
“Arse.” Draco gave a noisy sigh and leaned back against the wall. “We have one brilliant night together and then you leave me hanging for the rest of forever.”
“Brilliant, eh?”
“Shut up,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes. A light pink spread across his cheeks. “I was being sarcastic.”
Harry nudged Draco’s thigh with his foot. “We agreed it was a one-time thing.”
“I’m well aware.”
“I just don’t understand-”
“And neither do I!” Draco interrupted. “I don’t get why you’re making such a fuss about it - it was good, right? So what’s the big deal?”
“We’re just going to go in circles with this argument,” Harry said, sighing. “It’s not as though you like me or anything - is it?” Harry straightened suddenly as an uncomfortable feeling bloomed in his chest. “You don’t, right?”
Draco scoffed. “Of course not, don’t be stupid.”
Harry looked doubtful. “But just this morning-”
“Potter,” Draco cut in sharply. “I said no.”
For some reason, that didn’t really make Harry feel any better and he frowned. “Well then…you can manage on your own, I suppose.”
“I’m not going to bring it up again.” Draco gave him a glowering look. “I’m not desperate.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “So, what, this is my last chance?”
“Something like that.”
“Well…sorry.” Harry slumped further down on the bed, and on a whim threw his legs over Draco’s. “Not going to happen.”
Draco pouted. “You suck, Potter.”
“Think that’s what I’m saying I’m not going to do, actually,” Harry muttered, and immediately his eyes widened as he slapped a hand over his mouth. Draco shot him a startled glance, and then burst out laughing.
“Oh wow,” he said after a minute or so when he’d finally managed to calm down. “I can’t say that’s exactly what I had in mind, but if you want to go there-”
“NO,” Harry said loudly, waving his hands in front of him. “No, no. We’re done with this conversation. So done, oh my God.”
Draco continued chuckling. “But it was just getting interesting!”
“Done!” Harry said again. “Finished! We’re never bringing it up again!”
“Fine, fine.” Draco shook his head, obviously still amused, and then all at once shoved at Harry’s legs. “What am I, a piece of furniture? Get off me, Potter!”
Harry pouted and slipped even further down the bed so that he was lying on his back. “But I’m comfortable!”
“The hell do I care? Get off.” He paused and then suddenly got a look in his eyes that Harry thought he recognized.
“Don’t,” Harry said, holding up a finger in warning when Draco opened his mouth. “I already know where your mind is going with that one, you bloody pervert, so you don’t have to say it.”
Draco harrumphed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said loftily.
“Uh-huh.”
They both fell quiet after that, and for a couple minutes sat in a companionable silence. Harry stared blankly up at the ceiling, hands folded over his stomach, while Draco drummed his fingers absently against Harry’s legs. Then, after a moment, for no discernable reason, Draco groaned and collapsed sideways so that he was resting beside Harry on the bed. He shifted around until he was on his back, as well.
“This has been the longest fucking day,” he announced, apropos of nothing.
Harry laughed softly. “It really has, hasn’t it? Can’t believe we just went to the cave this morning. It’s a bit weird.”
“No,” Draco said. “This is weird.” He gestured between the two of them.
“How do you mean?”
“I never in my entire life - well. Since I was eleven, anyway - I never would have expected to end up here.”
“Where?” Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “On a bed with me?”
Draco snorted. “Anywhere with you. Especially if it didn’t involve me hexing you six ways to Sunday.”
“…Well, I’m glad we’ve gotten past that particular knee-jerk reaction to being around each other.”
“I make no promises; the urge still lingers and who knows what unfortunate time it might decide to raise its ugly head again.”
Harry made an exasperated sound. “You’re impossible, Malfoy.”
“That’s what you get for snubbing me all those years ago.”
“As you said, we were eleven.”
“Still. I really don’t know what your problem was; I was charming back then.”
Harry didn’t even bother trying to hide the highly incredulous look that instantly appeared on his face. Disbelieving laughter bubbled up in his chest, and while Draco tried to look affronted at Harry’s rudeness, soon he was laughing again, too.
“Impossible, Malfoy,” Harry repeated, still laughing. “And also ridiculous.”
“Sod off,” Draco grumbled, but he was grinning.
Neither of them said anything after that, and despite knowing he should leave and go to his own room at some point so they could both get some sleep, Harry found himself too comfortable to get up.
So he stayed.
More Snape! I always have a harder time writing him, but I think (hope) I'm getting better at it, haha.
New chapter next Friday. Thanks for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated!! :D
~Maxine
next chapter
You can also read it at Skyehawke.
Title: All the Answers
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 8800
Disclaimer: It's not mine. JKR is the brilliant mind behind HP.
Notes: This is a post-HBP 7th year fic that is not compliant with Deathly Hallows at all. Many, many thanks to my awesome beta, lksnarry1!
Summary: Horcruxes, former enemies showing up out of nowhere, and the usual teenage drama on top of it all - Harry isn't sure how he's ever going to make it through all this. But since when has conquering evil ever been easy?
--> All chapters can be found here. <--
previous chapter
~~Chapter 19~~
Later in the afternoon, after they’d finished eating and Harry had told Dobby and Kreacher they could go back to Hogwarts, the four of them found themselves in the drawing room again. Hermione was curled up in one of the armchairs with a book in her lap, while Ron and Draco were each trying to prove their claim that they were the best in their year at Wizard’s Chess.
Harry watched them play, absently wishing there was a Muggle television here he could plop his arse in front of instead. He wanted something to do that required no concentration. Chess was beyond him at the moment, and frankly he wasn’t sure how the other two were managing to focus on the game either. He still had a headache, despite taking an hour long nap earlier, and Draco really didn’t look much better.
If anything, he seemed even paler than he’d been before.
Grimmauld Place was quiet around them, same as it had been since they’d arrived back that morning. Harry wondered again where everyone was. He’d gotten used to various Order members stomping around the place when they were living here before, and the traffic level had only gone up with the addition of the Weasleys moving in the day before last. So, the silence was a little unnerving.
He frowned. “Ron, where do you think your parents are?”
Ron didn’t hear him; instead he watched as his knight took out one of Draco’s rooks and laughed almost evilly when Draco swore at him. “Sorry, mate, what?” he asked distractedly, making a rude gesture at Draco before looking over his shoulder at Harry.
“Your parents,” Harry said again, a bit impatiently. Hermione looked up curiously from her book. “They aren’t here.”
“Huh.” Ron glanced around the room as if he expected them to pop up from behind the couch. “You know, I didn’t notice. I keep forgetting they’re staying here.”
“Is it unusual for them to step out for a bit?” Draco asked, frowning down at the chess board.
Ron shrugged. “Who knows what they get up to in their old age, I’ve stopped paying attention. Better for my mental health.”
“Ron,” Hermione admonished, and Ron sent her a cheeky grin.
Harry wished they would focus. “It’s just a little weird that no one’s here.”
“We could floo Fred and George and ask them?” Hermione suggested, but Ron waved her off.
“They probably just went out for the day, it’s no big deal,” he said. “Stop worrying.”
“But they would have noticed we weren’t here this morning,” Harry said. “Your mum wouldn’t have left until we got back.”
This seemed to catch Ron’s attention. “…Maybe she left a note?”
“Doubt it,” Harry said, looking skeptical.
Ron turned around in his seat, his brow furrowed now. “Well-” A faint rushing noise from the other room suddenly interrupted him, and then the unmistakable sound of someone moving around had Ron releasing a breath and gesturing at the doorway. “There,” he said. “The floo, that’ll be them coming back from wherever they were.” He stood up and headed toward the door, calling as he went. “Mum! That you? We were just-”
But it wasn’t them and Ron stopped short again, abruptly backpedaling as the last person Harry expected to see swept into the room.
“Do I look like your mother, Weasley?” Snape drawled, arms crossed over his chest and appearing for all the world like his presence in Grimmauld Place was a totally normal and regular thing.
Harry’s eyes went wide behind his glasses. “Professor!” he exclaimed, and was quickly echoed by the other three.
Snape surveyed the room briefly before his gaze landed on the chess board. “This is your emergency? I see the problem - Mr. Malfoy, you do realize you’re about to lose to a Gryffindor?”
Draco scowled, but Harry jumped up before he could say anything. “Professor, what are you doing, you can’t be here!” he said, shooting a worried look in the direction Snape had come from. “What if someone else sees you? They could be back at any moment!”
“They won’t be back for awhile yet,” Snape said, and then in a swift subject change added, “Nobody here appears to be dying.”
Harry frowned. “How do you know that?”
“Because I have eyes, Potter, and you’re all sitting here looking perfectly content-”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Snape merely raised an eyebrow at him. “You sent me a rather urgent owl,” he said. “I assumed you’d be here. You went to the cave this morning as planned, correct?”
“…Yes,” Harry said after a brief pause. He slowly sat back down again, watching Snape closely.
“And the Horcrux?”
“We got it.” Harry nodded towards Draco. “Or Malfoy did, anyway.”
“We barely made it out of the damn place alive,” Ron spoke up. “You might have warned us! Er - professor,” he tacked on sheepishly.
“I wasn’t fully aware of what exactly you’d be facing,” Snape said. He moved further into the room, finding an empty armchair and sitting down. “Where is it, then?”
Harry glanced at Draco, who lifted his chin a bit. “I destroyed it,” he said.
If Snape was at all surprised that they’d already gotten rid of the Horcrux, he didn’t show it. “So that’s another one down,” was all he said. “Good.”
Harry looked at Draco again and this time the other boy met his eyes. Somehow, Harry knew they were wondering the same thing. “You couldn’t tell?” he asked Snape curiously.
“Tell what?”
“When we destroyed it - you didn’t feel anything?”
“What should I have been able to feel?” Snape frowned slightly. “It contained a part of the Dark Lord’s soul, not mine.”
“Well.” Harry gestured helplessly at his forehead, and now both Ron and Hermione looked confused, too. “When Malfoy used the killing curse on the cup, it sort of…exploded. And it hurt - my scar, I mean. But it’s done that before, sometimes when Voldemort is…angry, I guess. It hurt a lot in fifth year.”
Snape was watching Harry carefully. “Your fifth year was when the Dark Lord was trying to use your own mind against you. He was constantly inside your head, which is something I’m certain he doesn’t do anymore. Not after it backfired on him.”
“But the whole reason he could get into my head in the first place was because we have some kind of connection, right?” Harry asked. “My scar doesn’t usually hurt much anymore, now that Voldemort’s keeping out, but it did today. This morning.” He glanced at Draco. “And…so did Malfoy’s Dark Mark. We were assuming it’s because it has the same kind of connection to - you know. Him.”
That finally seemed to drag some emotion out of Snape, and a faintly startled look passed over his face. “What do you mean, it hurt?” he asked Draco. “The same as it does when the Dark Lord calls a meeting?”
Draco shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, it was worse.”
“Has it ever done that before?”
“Well…” Draco hesitated. “Yes.” He eyes slid towards Harry, and Snape noticed.
“Explain,” he said tersely.
Draco arched his eyebrows questioningly at Harry, and when the other boy nodded he shrugged and did as told. “Whenever Potter touches my mark, it seems to - get a bit out of control. It burns, so much that I have a hard time focusing on anything else. And Potter’s scar hurts, too.”
“Harry, is that true?” Hermione asked, frowning.
“What the hell are you doing touching Malfoy’s Dark Mark?” said Ron, looking a bit disturbed at the thought.
“It’s only happened maybe two times,” Harry replied. “And by accident. But - yeah. If I get anywhere near it, my scar acts up again. Today was the worst it’s ever been, but it wasn’t because I had any contact with the Dark Mark. It was because of the Horcrux. We thought, what with the connection to Voldemort and everything, it was because he felt that part of his soul being destroyed and then in turn…so did we…?” He trailed off somewhat uncertainly.
“You’ve never felt it before when one of the Horcruxes was destroyed,” Snape pointed out.
Harry frowned, thinking. “Probably because Voldemort never felt it. Until now, anyway. Dumbledore said something about how Voldemort’s soul is too mutilated for him to be able to feel when a piece gets destroyed. But maybe with less of them around, now he can?”
“I suppose,” Snape said slowly. “But there’s also a chance that just because you felt something, it doesn’t mean the Dark Lord did.”
Draco shook his head. “No, he definitely would’ve noticed; I thought my whole bloody arm was going to fall off.” He hesitated for a moment, and then continued, “Before, I thought maybe the Dark Lord would be able to sense that I was with Potter if he felt him through the mark. That he might know it was him touching me and come looking for us.”
Snape looked thoughtful as he considered everything they were saying, but Ron and Hermione were another story entirely. They had both gone pale and Hermione in particular seemed extremely alarmed. “Harry,” she choked out. “Do you mean to tell me that you knew about this - about the connection and you knew it was possible that You-Know-Who would be able to find you through Draco?!”
Harry winced. Probably, he should have mentioned that bit to them sooner…
Hermione took his silence as a yes. She made a distressed sound and covered her mouth with her hands.
“And you’re still letting him hang around?!” Ron exclaimed, color abruptly filling his face as he turned a bright red that clashed horribly with his hair. “He’s - he-”
“Destroyed a Horcrux for us?” Harry supplied blithely. “And nearly killed himself doing so?”
Ron scowled. “That’s not the point here,” he said angrily, but to his credit he turned and gave Draco a helpless sort of shrug and added, “I mean - look, no offense, mate, we appreciate it and all, but this…” He threw a hand in the direction of Draco’s left arm. “If that’s going to put Harry in danger, then we can’t-”
“I get it,” Draco interrupted. “I do. You’re worried about your precious Golden Boy, it’s understandable. But like I told Potter when he first found out, it’s really not as easy to find me as all that. The Dark Lord would still have to determine my location, and I’m usually Occluding constantly to keep him out.”
Hermione turned her attention back to Snape. “Professor?”
Snape didn’t say anything for a moment, still looking as though he was thinking things over. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows braced on his knees, and rested his chin on his folded hands. “Draco is mostly correct,” he said slowly. “If he’s utilizing his Occlumency skills, and Potter is as well, then it’s unlikely the Dark Lord would be able to discover your location. However,” he continued loudly, just as Ron and Hermione had begun to look a little relieved, “there are also many other things he’s currently involved with that are keeping his full attention otherwise distracted. If he were to actively look for you… Well.”
Harry didn’t need him to finish that sentence. “…He would probably find us.”
“He is one of the most powerful Legilimens there is,” Snape said in a somewhat dry tone. “And if your theory is true and the Dark Lord does actually notice when a piece of his soul is destroyed, then I’d say you caught his attention well and proper this morning.”
“I really think he does,” Harry said. “Maybe he didn’t before because there were so many pieces, but I think he knows when something happens to one of his Horcruxes now. He can feel it.”
“What about the ring?” Ron asked. “You think he felt when Dumbledore destroyed that one?”
“I’m not sure,” Harry said. “I mean, I didn’t feel it, so maybe at that point he still couldn’t…”
“Or maybe he did and that was part of the reason he wanted Dumbledore dead,” Draco suggested.
“You’re right,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “The timing certainly is interesting.”
“It’s possible,” Snape allowed. “But also unlikely. How would he have known it was Dumbledore? And if he did manage to find out…well, since Dumbledore is no longer with us, we can at least remain hopeful that he doesn’t know who did it this time.”
“He’ll figure that out easily enough,” Harry muttered.
Snape nodded somewhat reluctantly. “It’s probably only a matter of time,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean he’ll know Draco is with you. Especially if you didn’t have any contact with his Dark Mark today.”
Harry shook his head. “He’ll figure that out, too, it’s got to be obvious by now. There are too many clues floating around. Bellatrix actually saw me, for Merlin’s sake. Not to mention what Malfoy’s assignment is. All signs point to us being together.”
“Assignment?” Ron asked sharply. “And what’s that, exactly?”
Harry winced again and Draco’s eyes slid shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, well done, Potter.”
“Harry?” Hermione said.
“Guys…” Harry sighed. “It’s nothing. We’ve had it out already, and - Malfoy was supposed to do something, Voldemort gave him another task, but-”
“Like with Dumbledore?” Ron cut in.
“Yeah. Only…not quite as extreme…”
“Yes,” Draco drawled. “I’m not supposed to kill you, Potter, only turn you over to the Dark Lord.”
Hermione went pale all over again and Ron gaped at the pair of them. “What?!” he shouted.
“Thanks for that,” Harry grumbled, sending a glare in Draco’s direction. He got a smirk in return.
“Oh, you’re quite welcome.”
“Harry James Potter, I cannot believe you!” Hermione said shrilly, frowning and furrowing her brow and looking every bit like Mrs. Weasley when she was getting ready to scold one her sons. She opened and closed her mouth several times, and then gave up and threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even know what to do with you right now. How could you not tell us-!”
“Hermione…” Harry started to say, but she crossed her arms and turned her head away from him.
“No,” she said. “Don’t talk to me right now. I can’t even look at you.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’re dating your mother, you realize that, right?” he said to Ron, who promptly scowled at him.
“Just shut up, alright?” he said. “Are you serious? You’re supposed to turn him over? How the hell are we supposed to trust you now when you’ve probably just been trying to infiltrate our defenses the entire time?!”
“Ron,” Harry tried to interrupt, but Draco spoke over him.
“Do near sacrifices mean nothing to you people?” he cried. “Not to mention it’s been bloody months now that I’ve been with Potter and he’s FINE. What does a bloke have to do to get a little credit around here?!”
“Try being fucking honest with us, you stupid-”
“Potter knew! It’s not my fault he didn’t tell you!”
Ron abruptly fell silent, and even Hermione glanced back over her shoulder at the lot of them. They both glared at Harry.
“Er…” Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “To be fair, I’ve only known a few days…”
“NOT HELPING,” Draco said loudly, as Ron looked ready to start yelling again.
“If you’re all quite finished,” Snape suddenly cut in. “Save your petty arguments for after I’m gone, I don’t want to hear all your whining.” He directed a hard look at Ron. “He destroyed a Horcrux for you, Weasley, what more do you want?”
“That’s not the point-”
“It is the point!” Snape said forcefully. “It’s the most important thing right now! Now stop this childish behavior at once and let’s get back to the matter at hand.”
Ron sunk down in his chair, crossing his arms with a sullen glare. “Fine,” he bit out. “It just would have been nice if someone had told us about this - all of this - instead of keeping secrets.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep secrets!” Harry said, bristling. “We’ve just been busy and I haven’t-”
“I swear, if I was still your teacher I’d take fifty points from each of you right now,” Snape interrupted in a sharp tone. “For the last time, all of you, shut. up.” When they managed to remain in a sulky silence for a good ten seconds, Snape nodded. “Good. Now, Potter, as you pointed out, it does seem…unlikely that the Dark Lord would not be able to come to the correct conclusion in regards to Draco’s whereabouts. And if he does realize you’re aware of the Horcruxes, things will undoubtedly become more problematic for the two of you. But putting that aside for the moment - this business with your scar and the Dark Mark is concerning.” He looked back and forth between Harry and Draco. “It might have had something to do with your proximity to the Horcrux when you destroyed it. Perhaps being that close to the Dark Lord’s soul triggered such reactions, in addition to whatever the Dark Lord himself may have felt.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “But what about the other times? When there was no Horcrux?”
Snape frowned. “…I can’t be sure,” he said after a slight pause. “But I’ll look into it.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us about any of this,” Hermione said weakly, ignoring the exasperated look Snape gave her. “Honestly, Harry.”
“I’m sorry!” Harry offered up his most remorseful look, hoping she’d take pity on him. “I meant to, I just - forgot!”
Ron snorted. “Forgot, my arse,” he grumbled.
Snape gave an aggravated sigh. “I give up. Was that all you needed, Potter?” he asked, annoyance coloring his tone. “I was actually in the middle of something important when I received your owl, I need to get back before I’m missed.”
“No,” Harry said quickly, straightening up in his chair. “No, there’s one more thing - it’s actually the main reason we wrote you, the other stuff just came up first.”
“Well, get on with it,” Snape said impatiently.
“Right.” Harry scooted his chair closer to the table Ron and Draco had been using to play chess, and then he hesitated. This actually was important, and Harry suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted to know just what Draco’s injury might mean. But they needed help and Snape would have answers - hopefully - so Harry tipped his head in Draco’s direction and spoke. “Something happened to his hand. When we were in the cave.”
Snape nodded, looking unsurprised. “I did tell you it would likely leave a mark.”
“Yeah,” Draco said irritably, “but you didn’t say anything about me being cursed.” He lifted his arm and rested it on the table, then let his fingers unfurl.
Snape’s eyes immediately went wide.
This alone was more worrying than anything else they had talked about so far. Snape quickly stood from his seat and crossed to where Draco was, picking up his hand and staring at it. Several long seconds passed before Draco started squirming uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to say something but Snape shushed him before he even got the chance, still eyeing his hand, and Draco subsided with a glower.
Then all at once, Snape swore. “This curse is similar to the one Dumbledore received when destroying the ring,” he said.
“…I take it that’s a bad thing,” Draco said faintly.
Harry’s stomach clenched. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I…thought it might be the same one,” he said after a moment. “It looks like it. But it’s not? It’s only similar?”
“If it was the same one, Draco would likely be dead by now,” Snape said bluntly, and what little color was left in Draco’s face drained away as he swallowed nervously.
“Is there anything you can do?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
Ron nodded. “Yeah, there’s got to be something-”
“There’s no cure,” Snape said in a sharp tone. “Or there wasn’t for the curse Dumbledore received, at least. He only survived because he was an exceptionally smart wizard and did some quick spellwork, and he immediately came to me so I could give him a potion that contained the curse to his hand. I was working on finding a cure last year, but then - well. I’ll have to start my research again.” He pulled out his wand and began waving it over Draco’s hand, muttering some kind of long, involved spell as he did.
“No cure?” Draco repeated as he watched Snape work. “So, if you can’t figure something out, then this could also be - you’re saying this might kill me?”
Snape’s lips pressed thinly together after he finished his enchantment, and he remained quiet for a moment. “Let’s hope not,” he eventually said.
Draco’s eyes widened and he stared at Snape in horrified disbelief. “This might kill me,” he said again. “You sent me to get that fucking Horcrux and you knew it might KILL me.”
“There were no other options.”
“You were an option!”
“The Order needs the information I provide them. I couldn’t risk my position.” There was something that could have been regret in Snape’s voice, but Draco clearly didn’t hear it. He just shook his head, trying again to pull his hand from Snape’s grasp, but Snape still didn’t let him go. “Draco,” he said forcefully. “I’ve a feeling the Dark Lord would have wanted this curse’s victim to survive.” Draco looked up angrily as Snape spoke. “That way he would know who betrayed him and could punish him accordingly.”
“…Oh, well that makes me feel so much better,” Draco snapped.
Snape exhaled harshly through his nose before dropping Draco’s gaze and peering closely at his hand again instead. “The spell won’t be enough,” he muttered. “I’ll have to send you some potions, as well.”
Draco scowled, but didn’t say anything further.
Harry dragged a hand through his hair. Deep breaths weren’t enough for dealing with this news, he decided. He felt as though a Dementor had just accidentally drifted into the room, the way ice was suddenly building up in his gut. “If you can’t find - how long does he…?”
Snape didn’t answer.
“Dumbledore must have lasted at least a year,” Ron said.
“But he looked terrible by the end of it,” Harry mumbled.
“I’ll find the counter-curse,” Snape said. “This is something the Dark Lord came up with himself, I just have to - figure it out. It might not be as complicated as the curse that was on the ring.” He looked more frustrated than Harry had ever seen him, and he was reminded again of the Unbreakable Vow Snape had made with Draco’s mother. For some reason, it made Harry feel a little better. Snape would work it out. He’d fix this. He had to; he was still supposed to be protecting Draco, wasn’t he?
“A-alright then,” Hermione said nervously, before she visibly steeled herself. “Is there anything we need to do in the meantime, Professor?”
“…Yes,” Snape replied after a moment. “You need to avoid leaving Grimmauld Place as much as possible.” He finally let go of Draco’s hand and abruptly turned on his heel, heading for the door. “Other than that, proceed as normal. Draco, I’ll send those potions back by owl.”
“Wait, why can’t we leave?” Ron asked.
Snape paused, looking over his shoulder. “You can. And she can.” He leveled a glare on Harry and Draco. “But unless you want the Dark Lord showing up for an unexpected visit, you two need to remain here until I find out just how much he knows about what you’re doing.”
Harry frowned. “What are we supposed to do until then?”
“Do you know where or even what the next Horcrux is?”
“...No.”
“Well.” Snape raised an eyebrow. “There you go.”
Harry sighed. Research. His favorite.
Snape turned to leave, and then paused yet again. “One more thing,” he said. “Although I’m sure you’d hear the news soon enough anyway, but - the Ministry has fallen. The Dark Lord has had some of his men planted there for weeks and earlier today his Death Eaters staged a coup d'état that resulted in the Minister’s death. The Order had just been spotted in the Ministry when I took my leave.”
He didn’t wait for any of them to comment on the bombshell he’d just dropped, instead sweeping out of the room in the same manner in which he’d entered.
He left nothing but a stunned silence in his wake.
* * *
Ron was in a state of barely contained panic.
“What did he mean, the Ministry’s fallen? There was a coup d’état? And the Order’s there - that must be where my parents went! Bloody hell, what if my whole family’s there - Harry, we have to go help!”
…Okay, so perhaps not contained panic at all.
Hermione was trying to calm him down, but Harry couldn’t blame him; he was up and pacing about the room himself, cursing Voldemort, cursing his Death Eaters, cursing Snape. “This is why he had us go find the Horcrux today!” he complained, digging his hands back into his hair. “The beach will be closed, my arse. He just wanted us out of the way again!”
“Harry, come on, we have to go!”
“This is the second time he’s done this - and I thought we could trust him! He had to know this attack was going to happen, we could have stopped it!”
“Do you think we should Apparate straight there? Maybe we should floo in - Harry, come on, my parents-”
“WILL BOTH OF YOU PLEASE SHUT UP?!” Draco suddenly shouted, jumping up out of his seat and grabbing both of their shoulders. “Merlin, it’s like you’re trying to have a conversation in two different languages - do you realize neither of you is even remotely paying attention to what the other is saying?” He shoved them in the direction of the couch. “Sit down before you hurt yourselves. Granger, explain to these two idiots why going to the Ministry is exactly what we’re not going to do right now, would you?”
“What?!” Ron exclaimed. “Sod off, Malfoy, it is what we’re going to do-”
“No it’s not!” Hermione interrupted quickly. “It absolutely is not, Ron, we’re going to stay here like Professor Snape wants us to and let the Order handle the Ministry!”
“Hermione, we can’t stay here,” Harry said, frowning. “They need our help!”
Draco gave him an exasperated look. “They don’t need the help of a couple barely of age wizards this late into the game, Potter, don’t be thick. It’s been hours; if there was any fighting it’s probably all done by now anyway. I imagine they’re just dealing with the aftermath.”
“Snape said the Order had just gotten there when he left!” Ron said angrily.
“And he probably left ages ago,” Hermione said. “Honestly, Ron, he received our owl, didn’t he? Do you think Hedwig just flew into the middle of the Ministry - into a possible battle - and Professor Snape miraculously had time to take a coffee break and read a letter without anyone noticing?”
Harry and Ron glanced at each other, before directing stubborn looks at the other two again. “I still think we should go,” Harry said, and Draco let out a very put upon sigh.
“Snape just told you why we can’t leave.”
“You can’t leave - Voldemort won’t be able to find me if I don’t have you tagging along like a giant homing beacon.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what you just said, but - just shut up, Potter, alright? Snape doesn’t want me or you leaving, so we’re not going to. End of story.”
“Draco’s right.” Hermione took a seat beside Ron, resting her hand on his arm. “Ron, I’m sure everyone is fine. Somebody would have come for us if anything had happened to one of them, you know they would have.”
Ron looked like he wanted to argue some more, but all at once the tension left his shoulders and he collapsed back against the couch. “I’m really getting sick of being sent away when something’s about to happen.”
“You and me both,” Harry muttered, crossing his arms.
“He does it for your own good,” Draco said. “Otherwise, instead of stomping around here in a huff afterward, completely safe and unharmed, you’d be pulling your wands out at the first sign of danger and gallivanting off to Merlin knows where, only to get yourselves killed.” He propped his hands on hips and lifted his eyes skyward again. “Gryffindors.”
“What are we supposed to do, then?” Harry asked. “I can’t just sit here and act like everything’s okay!”
“I could go back to kicking Weasley’s arse in chess,” Draco said, to which Ron promptly snorted.
“You wish, Malfoy. I would’ve won in two more moves.”
“We could make dinner?” Hermione suggested, and then flushed slightly when all three boys gave her identical incredulous looks. “I’m serious! They’re probably all exhausted and I’m sure they’ve had a more difficult day than even we did-”
“That’s debatable,” Draco muttered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’ll keep our minds off things until they get back. And I know they’ll appreciate it.”
“Slight flaw in your plan, Hermione,” Harry said. “You’re assuming these two even know how to turn on a stove. I mean, this git here was raised by house elves.” He jerked a thumb in Draco’s direction, and then tipped his head toward Ron. “And Mrs. Weasley’s probably never missed a day of cooking in her life.”
“Hey,” Ron said, all prepared to be offended, but then he paused. “…Wait, no, you’re right.”
“Excuse you, I was not raised by house elves,” Draco said. “And you have to be nice to me; I’m dying, remember?”
Harry’s stomach did that weird lurching thing again. “You’re not dying, shut up about that.” He peered closely at Draco. “…Are you feeling alright, though? Maybe you should lie down.”
Draco waved him off. “Oh, I’m fine. Fantastic, actually. I’ve got an excellent case of denial going on right now; I expect I’ll be able to make it last for awhile.”
The corner of Harry’s mouth tugged upwards in amusement, despite everything. “Well then, I hardly have to be nice to you if you’re feeling fantastic.”
“Thank you, Potter, your compassion is overwhelming.”
“I know, I try.”
“Are we cooking, then?” Ron asked.
Harry lifted an eyebrow at him. “You mean, are Hermione and I cooking? I guess. You and Malfoy can - set the table. Or something.”
“Set the table?” Draco looked as if they had asked him to clean out the hippogriff stalls at Hogwarts. “You know, on second thought, maybe I will lie down…”
“Nice try, Malfoy,” Harry said as he stood from the couch. He grabbed Draco’s sleeve so he wouldn’t be able to escape and pulled him toward the kitchen. “You can handle it. Hermione, what should we make?”
They were halfway through dinner preparations when there was a familiar rushing sound that indicated the floo was being used, and Ron’s parents trudged into the room.
“Mum! Dad!” Ron cried, rushing over to them. “Are you alright? Where are Fred and George? Is everyone okay? What happened?!”
“Steady on, Ron, one question at a time,” Mr. Weasley said tiredly, sinking down into one of the chairs at the table.
“Your brothers are fine,” Mrs. Weasley said. She clasped the sides of Ron’s face and dragged him down so she could plant a kiss on his cheek, then pulled back and looked him over closely. “And you? None of you were here this morning, where did you go?”
“Not important, mum - everyone’s really okay?”
She nodded, kissed him again, and then finally let him go. “Fred and George went back to their flat, but they should be coming back here in a bit. There were a few injuries on our side but everyone’s alive. Remus is going to have to take it easy for awhile.”
Harry’s head jerked around. “Remus? What happened? Where is he?”
“Here,” Remus called as he limped into the room, arm around Tonks’ shoulder as she helped him.
“Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks said, looking exhausted but smiling all the same. Her hair was bright blue today. She nodded at the others in turn. “Ron, Hermione - hello, who’s this?” Her eyes landed on Draco.
“Er…your cousin, actually,” Harry said. “Tonks, this is Mal - Draco.”
“Maldraco?” Tonks repeated, raising her eyebrows. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Draco rolled his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He’d shoved himself into a corner of the room when everyone entered and was looking highly uncomfortable. “It’s just Draco,” he said guardedly. “Draco Malfoy. I’m-”
“Oh, Aunt Narcissa’s son, duh!” She grinned at him. “Right, I’d heard you were here. Hanging around with Harry now, eh?”
“It’s quite different from how they were in school,” Remus said dryly. He grimaced a bit as Tonks helped him sit down in one of the chairs.
Ron turned to his dad. “I thought Harry said you weren’t going to tell anyone?”
Mr. Weasley shrugged. “We told Harry that we wouldn’t tell anyone unless we thought it was necessary.”
“…So, naturally, you thought it was necessary right away,” Harry guessed. He didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated by the fact, but it really only confirmed his suspicions that word had spread through the Order.
“From the very beginning,” Mrs. Weasley said with a brisk nod. But then she smiled. “Draco’s been nothing but a gentleman, though, and he really hasn’t been a problem at all - you understand that we just felt more comfortable with the Order knowing, right? For your safety, as well as ours.”
“And his, for that matter,” Mr. Weasley added. Draco scowled, but didn’t say anything.
“So, tell us what happened,” Hermione spoke up, leaving Harry at the stove and darting over to take a seat across from Remus. “You’re alright, truly? Oh, this is just awful. We heard the news about the Minister, I can’t believe-”
“You did?” Remus interrupted, looking surprised. Hermione paled a bit and abruptly shut her mouth.
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Weasley said slowly. “Since the minute we walked through the door, you’ve been acting like you’re aware of what’s happened.”
A startled look passed over Mrs. Weasley’s face. “You knew to ask about your brothers.”
“W-well,” Ron fumbled for words. “They’re in the Order, you’re in the Order, I just thought-”
“You knew about the Minister,” Remus reminded them.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, and then Harry sighed. “Someone told us, we already knew.”
“But this just happened!” Mrs. Weasley cried. “Does this have to do with your absence this morning? Where were you?”
“We can’t tell you, mum,” Ron said. “We had something important to do, that’s all.”
“And then we met up with someone about an hour ago, and he told us,” Harry continued. “We know the Ministry’s fallen.”
“Who?” Mrs. Weasley demanded. “It must have been someone who was there, who?”
“Molly, leave it,” Remus said when no one offered up any sort of response. “We know they have some sort of mission we can’t be involved in, this is just another part of that.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but Harry circumvented anymore of her questions by shoving a cup of tea into her hands. “Mrs. Weasley, please sit down. You look exhausted and you’ve obviously had a rough day.”
“Yes, we’ve made everyone dinner!” Hermione said, jumping up again to help Harry finish cooking. “It should be ready soon.”
“Smells good,” Tonks said. “And I’m starving.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Ron asked. “What does it mean exactly that the Ministry’s fallen?”
“I’m out of a job, for one,” Mr. Weasley said. Ron gave him a wide-eyed look, while Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. Mrs. Weasley rubbed his arm comfortingly.
“But…” Ron looked back and forth between his parents. “How - what will you do? Dad!”
“We’ll manage,” Mrs. Weasley said simply. Ron didn’t appear to believe that for a second.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “I just - how did we lose? Are there not enough people in the Order to fight back?”
“What you have to understand is that there wasn’t really a battle, per se,” Mr. Weasley explained. Harry and Hermione started placing various plates of food around the table as he spoke, and he shot them a grateful look before continuing. “You-Know-Who has evidently had this planned for weeks - possibly months. His men have been working in the Ministry right under our noses, people I never would’ve expected to turn to the other side.”
“Although some of them might claim to be under the influence of the Imperius curse,” Remus added. “And Moody suspects they’ve been using it on some of the higher-ups, as well. Most notably, the men Scrimgeour worked in close contact with. So when it came time to put their plain into action, it was all too easy for them to assassinate him.”
Harry finally sat down at the table himself, frowning in confusion. “If there wasn’t a battle, then what…?”
“Kingsley realized what had happened first,” Mr. Weasley said. “He got word out to those of us in the Order who already worked at the Ministry, then Remus and the others showed up after. The plan was to get to the Minister’s office and take down the men who were there, but we were met with more…resistance than expected.”
“That, and it was difficult not to arouse suspicion as to what we were doing,” said Remus. “Especially as some of us-” He gestured at himself. “-aren’t normally at the Ministry.”
“Didn’t help that the Head Auror was one of the people on their side,” Tonks said around a forkful of food. “Whether under the Imperius or on his own, I still don’t know. How they managed to slip that one by the lot of us…” She gave a disgusted shake of her head, and her hair melted from blue to red. “We all need to be retrained if you ask me, that’s damn well unacceptable.”
“As other workers in the Ministry began noticing something was going on, they tried to stop us,” Remus said.
Hermione gasped. “Stop you? Why?”
“They can’t be faulted,” Mr. Weasley said. “When half of your department heads are supporting the people who have overthrown the Minister - and remember, the Minister’s death wasn’t public knowledge at this point - well, then it just looks like you have a bunch of random, possibly dangerous wizards trying to get to the Minister’s office for no discernable reason. It comes across as rather a large threat, and anyone who was You-Know-Who’s man made sure everyone not involved saw us as such.”
Remus picked up from where he’d left off. “And since we were considered a threat, they obviously tried to impede us. It was chaos, mostly. No one had any real idea what was going on and there was panic everywhere. Meanwhile, Scrimgeour hadn’t been dead for an hour yet and Voldemort’s men were already planning a statement and announcement as to who would be Minister next.”
“A statement that oh-so-conveniently named us as the Minister’s assassins.” Tonks set her utensils down and slumped back in her chair. “A group of ‘overzealous Dumbledore supporters, acting out against the Ministry in a crazed show of revenge for an unfortunate incident that wasn’t even the Ministry’s fault’ is what they said, I believe.”
Remus nodded. “With the explicit mention of one of them being a werewolf,” he said dryly. “Anyway, by the time we were in any position to take on Scrimgeour’s actual murderers, many more innocent people had gotten involved and the odds were fifty-to-one against us. Then the announcement was made, and there wasn’t much fighting we could do without worrying about hurting someone who was only there by accident and oblivious to what the truth of the matter was.”
“So by then we just needed to get out or risk being captured ourselves,” Mrs. Weasley spoke up. She’d barely touched any of her food.
There was silence for a moment as they all stared at their plates, and then Hermione asked softly, “So…what now? What does that mean for the rest of the Wizarding world?”
“You can expect a fairly rapid change of regime, for one,” Remus replied. “And most people won’t even be aware that it’s all being directed by Voldemort. The amount of power he gains by having the Ministry under his thumb… It’s extremely worrying. He can change laws, add laws, monitor the floo network, control how much information gets out to the public through the Daily Prophet - the list goes on and on. We’ll all have to be extremely careful now. He’ll turn everyone in the Wizarding world against us just by making us wanted criminals.”
“He can influence things at Hogwarts now, too,” Tonks added. “He can place whoever he wants there as a teacher.”
“Blimey, it’ll be like Umbridge all over again,” Ron muttered to Harry.
“And,” Tonks spoke up again, “it’s pretty much guaranteed that one of the first things he’ll do is release his remaining supporters from Azkaban.”
Harry’s eyes widened and darted toward the end of the table - only Draco wasn’t there. Come to think of it, he’d either been extremely quiet or, more likely, he’d disappeared awhile ago and Harry hadn’t noticed.
“I saw him carry a plate out,” Hermione said, and Harry felt himself go a bit red at the fact that she’d realized who he was looking for without him even having to say anything.
“I should - go see if he’s okay,” he mumbled, pushing away from the table. Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione gave him an amused look. Harry ignored them both. “Will you be here for awhile?” he directed toward Remus and Tonks.
“Yup!” Tonks said with a grin. “Safest place to be right now and I know You-Know-Who will have his people out trying to track us down. Plus, Moody and some of the others are supposed to be stopping by for a meeting tonight.”
Harry nodded, returning her smile. “Great, then I’ll see you both later. I just - I’ll be right back. Shouldn’t be long. Just want to-”
“Go,” Hermione said, giving him a shove. “Ron and I will clean up.”
Ron gave a squawk of disapproval that nobody paid any attention to, and Harry grinned. “Right. Thanks, Hermione!” he said, and then bounded out of the room.
* * *
Standing outside Draco’s door a few minutes later, however, Harry wasn’t quite sure why he’d felt the need to come check up on him. What if he wanted to be left alone? Maybe that was why he had left the kitchen in the first place. Maybe he needed some time to accept what Snape had told him that afternoon, to come to terms with the curse he now had. The curse that might not have a cure-
Harry swiftly blocked out that line of thought and knocked on the door.
He waited a few moments, but the only reply he got was silence. Was Draco not even in there?
Curious, he checked the doorknob and found that it was unlocked, so he cautiously pushed the door open.
Draco turned from where he was sitting on the windowsill, raising his eyebrows when he spotted Harry. “Potter. What’s the point of knocking when you’re just going to come in anyway?”
“You didn’t tell me not to come in,” Harry pointed out as he stepped into the room. He made sure not to shut the door completely behind him, leaving it open just a crack. “You alright?”
“Are you going to ask me that every time you see me now?” Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.
“…Sorry.” Harry moved to sit down on the end of the bed. “Crazy day, though, huh?”
“Tell me about it.”
“I didn’t notice when you left.”
“Oh, well. I feel loved.” Draco looked out the window again. “I didn’t feel like being there if anyone else from the Order showed up.”
“Well, apparently they all know you’re with us,” Harry said dryly. “So they probably wouldn’t care if they saw you.”
Draco shrugged. “Still.”
“You missed an interesting bit of information.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Harry said slowly. “Tonks - your cousin - she seems to think that now that the Ministry is under Voldemort’s control, one of the first things he’ll do is break the rest of his Death Eaters out of Azkaban.”
Draco’s shoulders tensed, but other than that he gave no sign that he’d even heard at first. “…So, my father…?”
“Yep.”
“He’ll try to find me.”
“You think?”
“Yes.” Draco turned back around again, meeting Harry’s eyes. “If he hears about - what I was supposed to do…he’ll want me to go through with it.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Anything to restore the Malfoy name in the Dark Lord’s eyes.”
“…He won’t have any more luck finding you than Voldemort will,” Harry said. “Not if you stay here.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “And you’re not going to do it anyway, even if he does somehow get to you. Right?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “It actually physically pains me how little you all trust me at this point.”
“Right?”
“Yes, Potter.” Draco grunted as he pushed himself up from the windowsill and went to sit by Harry on the bed. Harry tried to subtly inch away, but Draco just gave him a look that said he’d noticed and thought Harry was being ridiculous. Then he smirked. “Why would I want to hand you over and risk losing all this lovely sexual tension we have going on between us?”
Harry felt his face go red. “There isn’t any - you have got to stop talking like that!”
“Why?” Draco asked, scooting in closer.
“Because!” Harry didn’t make any effort to hide his backing away this time; unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for him to go before his back hit the footboard.
Draco snorted. “Now there’s a good reason.”
“Malfoy, it’s been all of three days since - since Belgium. I can’t-”
“Oh, so I’m just moving too quickly for you?”
“Yes - no - that’s not what I meant!”
Draco leaned in. Harry’s eyes widened more the closer he got. “Then what did you mean?”
“I-” Harry couldn’t seem to form words with Draco right in front of him like that. “It’s just - not a good idea!”
“Why not? Honestly, I could use the distraction.”
“Earlier you were saying it was because you were bored,” Harry reminded him. “And - hard up.” He flushed again as he said it, but set his jaw determinedly and held Draco’s gaze.
Draco waved his hand around aimlessly. “So there are multiple excuses. All the more reason, right?”
“Malfoy…” The hand he was waving about caught Harry’s attention and he grabbed it, looking down at Draco’s blackened fingers for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “This is why you’re coming on so strong right now.”
“What?” Draco glanced at their hands and then yanked his back. “Yeah, what of it? I said I needed a distraction.” He scowled.
“It’s not going to make it go away-”
“No, but at least I won’t be thinking about it for five seconds!” Draco snapped. He spun around, planting both feet solidly on the floor, and hunched over his knees, face buried in his hands.
Harry fell silent. He watched the line of Draco’s back carefully and let out a soft, relieved breath when the other boy didn’t suddenly break out in sobs. After a moment he pulled his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged, and aimed for a sort of teasing smugness when he spoke. “Five seconds? Really, Malfoy? I think it’d be longer than that.”
Draco glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That an offer?”
Harry grinned a bit, but shook his head. “No.”
“Arse.” Draco gave a noisy sigh and leaned back against the wall. “We have one brilliant night together and then you leave me hanging for the rest of forever.”
“Brilliant, eh?”
“Shut up,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes. A light pink spread across his cheeks. “I was being sarcastic.”
Harry nudged Draco’s thigh with his foot. “We agreed it was a one-time thing.”
“I’m well aware.”
“I just don’t understand-”
“And neither do I!” Draco interrupted. “I don’t get why you’re making such a fuss about it - it was good, right? So what’s the big deal?”
“We’re just going to go in circles with this argument,” Harry said, sighing. “It’s not as though you like me or anything - is it?” Harry straightened suddenly as an uncomfortable feeling bloomed in his chest. “You don’t, right?”
Draco scoffed. “Of course not, don’t be stupid.”
Harry looked doubtful. “But just this morning-”
“Potter,” Draco cut in sharply. “I said no.”
For some reason, that didn’t really make Harry feel any better and he frowned. “Well then…you can manage on your own, I suppose.”
“I’m not going to bring it up again.” Draco gave him a glowering look. “I’m not desperate.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “So, what, this is my last chance?”
“Something like that.”
“Well…sorry.” Harry slumped further down on the bed, and on a whim threw his legs over Draco’s. “Not going to happen.”
Draco pouted. “You suck, Potter.”
“Think that’s what I’m saying I’m not going to do, actually,” Harry muttered, and immediately his eyes widened as he slapped a hand over his mouth. Draco shot him a startled glance, and then burst out laughing.
“Oh wow,” he said after a minute or so when he’d finally managed to calm down. “I can’t say that’s exactly what I had in mind, but if you want to go there-”
“NO,” Harry said loudly, waving his hands in front of him. “No, no. We’re done with this conversation. So done, oh my God.”
Draco continued chuckling. “But it was just getting interesting!”
“Done!” Harry said again. “Finished! We’re never bringing it up again!”
“Fine, fine.” Draco shook his head, obviously still amused, and then all at once shoved at Harry’s legs. “What am I, a piece of furniture? Get off me, Potter!”
Harry pouted and slipped even further down the bed so that he was lying on his back. “But I’m comfortable!”
“The hell do I care? Get off.” He paused and then suddenly got a look in his eyes that Harry thought he recognized.
“Don’t,” Harry said, holding up a finger in warning when Draco opened his mouth. “I already know where your mind is going with that one, you bloody pervert, so you don’t have to say it.”
Draco harrumphed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said loftily.
“Uh-huh.”
They both fell quiet after that, and for a couple minutes sat in a companionable silence. Harry stared blankly up at the ceiling, hands folded over his stomach, while Draco drummed his fingers absently against Harry’s legs. Then, after a moment, for no discernable reason, Draco groaned and collapsed sideways so that he was resting beside Harry on the bed. He shifted around until he was on his back, as well.
“This has been the longest fucking day,” he announced, apropos of nothing.
Harry laughed softly. “It really has, hasn’t it? Can’t believe we just went to the cave this morning. It’s a bit weird.”
“No,” Draco said. “This is weird.” He gestured between the two of them.
“How do you mean?”
“I never in my entire life - well. Since I was eleven, anyway - I never would have expected to end up here.”
“Where?” Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “On a bed with me?”
Draco snorted. “Anywhere with you. Especially if it didn’t involve me hexing you six ways to Sunday.”
“…Well, I’m glad we’ve gotten past that particular knee-jerk reaction to being around each other.”
“I make no promises; the urge still lingers and who knows what unfortunate time it might decide to raise its ugly head again.”
Harry made an exasperated sound. “You’re impossible, Malfoy.”
“That’s what you get for snubbing me all those years ago.”
“As you said, we were eleven.”
“Still. I really don’t know what your problem was; I was charming back then.”
Harry didn’t even bother trying to hide the highly incredulous look that instantly appeared on his face. Disbelieving laughter bubbled up in his chest, and while Draco tried to look affronted at Harry’s rudeness, soon he was laughing again, too.
“Impossible, Malfoy,” Harry repeated, still laughing. “And also ridiculous.”
“Sod off,” Draco grumbled, but he was grinning.
Neither of them said anything after that, and despite knowing he should leave and go to his own room at some point so they could both get some sleep, Harry found himself too comfortable to get up.
So he stayed.
More Snape! I always have a harder time writing him, but I think (hope) I'm getting better at it, haha.
New chapter next Friday. Thanks for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated!! :D
~Maxine
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You can also read it at Skyehawke.