FIC: All the Answers - Chapter 4
Title: All the Answers
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 6500
Disclaimer: It's not mine. Really. J.K. Rowling's the brilliant mind behind HP.
Notes: Post-HBP, so yes, SPOILERS! Many, many thanks to my lovely betas, smutella and impish_nymph! Ladies, you're both fantastic!
Summary: Since when has conquering evil ever been easy?
--> All chapters can be found here. <--
previous chapter
~~Chapter 4~~
The wide-eyed looks of disbelief and something that could easily give way to anger that he could see growing in the Weasleys’ eyes nearly had Harry grabbing Malfoy’s arm and Disapparating on the spot. Since that was hardly an option, he forced himself to stand his ground and instead looked at Remus, who appeared to be more curious than anything else.
He was glad he had waited until after dinner to do this, because by now the other guests had cleared out of the Burrow. Beside him, Malfoy was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and doing his best to appear unaffected by the tension in the air.
“I promise he won’t do anything,” Harry said for the third time. “I’ve got his wand and everything - look, there’s nowhere else for him to go!”
“Harry,” Mr. Weasley said slowly, “We could find somewhere else for him to go. It’s good that he’s decided to switch-”
Malfoy looked up sharply before the man could finish. “Who said anything about-”
“Shut it,” Harry hissed, digging his elbow into Draco’s side. “Really not helping your case here.” Malfoy subsided and settled for glowering at nothing in particular, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.
“Harry, dear, it’s just that - you know what happened to Bill, we can’t-” Mrs. Weasley fretted, wringing her hands as she looked at her husband.
“We need to inform the rest of the Order,” Mr. Weasley said. “If he’s got the Dark Mark we can’t just ignore that. They’ll be able to find a place for him - a safe house, maybe.”
“The Burrow is the most protected place there is right now, you’re not going to find anywhere better!” Harry exclaimed. “Please, Mrs. Weasley - he didn’t know Greyback was going to be there, he didn’t mean for Bill - or anyone - to get hurt!”
“Just Dumbledore,” Remus spoke up, and Harry couldn’t help shooting him an annoyed look.
“Fine,” he said. “We all knew what he meant to do but the fact is that he didn’t. He lowered his wand, I saw it! And anyway, his family was being threatened by Voldemort.” Harry looked imploringly back at the Weasleys. “What if it was Ron? What if something happened to the two of you and Voldemort tried to use you against him? Don’t you think he might panic and do something rash?”
“Plotting someone’s death and very nearly going through with it is a little more than what I would call a rash action, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said tiredly. He ran a hand over his face and then gently took Mrs. Weasley by the elbow and led her to the table in the middle of the kitchen. “Here, let’s all sit. Harry, I’m not sure I understand why you don’t want to go to the rest of the Order with this. It’s not as though we’re saying you should toss Draco back to You-Know-Who. We’re still willing to help.”
“And this is quite an attitude change from last year,” Remus added. “You can’t blame us for being curious.”
“I just-” Harry sighed, reaching out to tug Malfoy along with him and push him down into a chair. He plopped down into the seat beside him. “It’s better this way.” Which wasn’t much of an answer at all, Harry knew, so he tried to elaborate. “The less people who know he’s here, the better. If Voldemort finds out…”
“He’ll kill my parents for sure,” Malfoy finished for him, finally looking up at the other people sitting around the table. “Desertion is worse than just - disappearing. If he thinks he can still lure me back by keeping my parents’ welfare on the line, then at least they’ll still be alive. If he knows I’ve gone to you people for-” Help. Protection. All the things he didn’t want to admit he was here for. He opted for scowling instead of finishing his sentence.
“But you didn’t,” Remus said. Malfoy looked at him. “You didn’t come to us; Harry said that Hagrid found you. In fact, you had more than a month to make this exact decision and you didn’t.”
For a moment, Malfoy shifted his gaze to the side, his fingers tapping agitatedly against the tabletop. “Your point?” he eventually said.
“How do we know you wouldn’t go back to him if Harry were to give you your wand back?”
“…You don’t,” Malfoy said. “And what does it matter anyway? I could sit here all day making promises, but it wouldn’t do any good because none of you would believe me. Not to mention the rest of your precious Order, if you told them.”
Harry sighed, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. Leave it to Malfoy to be utterly unhelpful. “I promise you nothing bad will happen while he’s here,” he said yet again. “I’m just trying to do what I think Dumbledore would have wanted done.”
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other, apparently having some sort of silent conversation between them. It was Remus who spoke again.
“If I recall, you’re a fairly talented wizard, Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “More than,” he said.
“And smart.”
“You would know, Professor.”
Remus nodded, watching Draco for a brief moment before he turned to the Weasleys. “He doesn’t have his wand,” he said. “If it remains that way for the time being, then I think-”
“Remus.”
“No, Arthur.” Mrs. Weasley laid a hand on his arm. “I agree, I think it’ll be alright. If he has nowhere else to go - maybe it’ll be good for him.”
“Good for me - ow!”
“So he can stay?” Harry asked, withdrawing his hand from where he’d pinched Draco underneath the table.
Mr. Weasley shared yet another long look with his wife, and then sighed. “He can stay.”
“And you won’t tell anyone?”
“For now,” Mrs. Weasley said. “But Harry, if something comes up, or if we feel the need to inform other people, then you need to trust us and let us do what we think is right, too.”
“Of course.” Harry nodded. “Of course - Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, you’ll see, it’ll be fine. Thank you!”
Draco seemed surprised, like he hadn’t actually thought they’d agree. Harry didn’t wait around for him to open his mouth and say something that might ruin everything. Instead, he grabbed the other boy by the arm and hauled him up.
“We really appreciate it,” he said as he pulled Malfoy out of the room. “Remus, I’ll see you soon?” He only just caught the man’s amused nod as he let the door swing shut behind them.
“Get off me,” Malfoy said once they were alone, shoving Harry away. “What’s with the manhandling? Perhaps it’s escaped your notice, Potter, but I can walk on my own.”
“Sorry,” Harry said cheerfully. He headed for the stairs, pausing when Draco didn’t follow. “…Problem, Malfoy?”
Malfoy, who’d been looking back towards the kitchen, shook his head. “No… They’re really going to let me stay here?”
“That’s what they said.”
“They’re far too trusting.”
“Is there a reason they shouldn’t be?”
Draco turned back to face Harry, staring at him with a somewhat perplexed look on his face.
“…Let’s hope not.”
* * *
Ginny took the news even worse than her parents did.
“How could you have brought him here?” she asked angrily, pacing about the floor in her room. Harry watched her from where he was sitting on her bed. “You know what he did to Bill. Harry, it’s because of him that Professor Dumbledore is dead! He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts!”
“Funnily enough, it was the Death Eater Malfoy didn’t let in that killed him,” Harry pointed out. “In fact, aside from what happened to Bill - and did I mention that Malfoy hadn’t planned on Greyback tagging along? - anyway, aside from that, the only thing the other Death Eaters managed to do was kill one of their own!”
“Aren’t you getting tired of sticking up for me yet, Potter?” Ginny spun around abruptly, and Harry turned to see Draco leaning against the doorjamb.
“Get out of here, Malfoy!” Ginny spat. “No one asked you to eavesdrop on us!”
“Then maybe next time you should shut the door if you don’t want the whole house to hear you,” Malfoy suggested dryly.
Harry honestly hadn’t been expecting Malfoy to venture out of Fred and George’s room for the rest of the night, so seeing him again so soon after he’d left him there was somewhat of a surprise. He frowned over at him. “What do you want, Malfoy? Something wrong?”
Draco adopted a look of faux innocence. “Just taking a tour of my new…place of residence.”
“Finding it to your liking?” Ginny asked tightly, her eyes narrowed.
“It’ll have to do,” Malfoy said with a shrug. “Smaller than I’m used to, of course. More cluttered. And the company is subpar-”
“Malfoy,” Harry interrupted, having solved that mystery quickly enough. It didn’t take much to realize that the only reason Malfoy was bothering them right now was so that he could irritate the hell out of Harry’s girlfriend. Er - ex-girlfriend. Right.
Draco smirked. “Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but. He leaned further into the room, as if examining the interior decoration. “So was that a little lovers’ tiff I just interrupted?”
Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but Harry beat her to it. “We’re not together anymore,” he said, and then when Ginny glared at him he added quickly, “At least, not for right now…”
“Shame, that,” Draco said, and he couldn’t have sounded more insincere if he’d tried.
“Harry, where’s Malfoy sleeping tonight?” Ginny asked, apparently deciding to follow Ron and Hermione’s lead and just ignore Malfoy altogether.
“Fred and George’s room.”
“And where are you staying? With Ron, I suppose?”
“No, actually. Er, I’m staying in Fred and George’s room, too.”
“…Excuse me?” Ginny asked dangerously. “Why?”
“Ron and I agreed it would be best if someone stayed in the same room as him,” Harry explained hastily. “Plus, their room already has two beds in it, and Ron’s room always gets too cramped when you try to stuff another bed in there. And Ron didn’t seem to mind too much, anyway.”
“That’s only because he’s going to sneak Hermione in there later on,” Ginny groused, crossing her arms across her chest.
“And that was entirely too much information,” Draco quipped, turning on his heel and leaving.
“I’d better go, too,” Harry said. He stood and crossed to where Ginny was standing, trailing a hand softly up her arm before his fingers closed gently around her shoulder. Bending down, he pressed a quick kiss against her cheek. “Night, Ginny. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“So I’m down to the cheek, am I?” Ginny asked, just as Harry was halfway out the door.
He paused, turning slowly back to look at her. “Ginny…”
“Harry, please.”
Harry stared at her helplessly. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, he knew that. He was already at the door, all he had to do was take one more step and he could go back to his room. Willpower, Harry, come on, willpower.
A familiar flowery scent drifted by, and Harry briefly squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to look at Ginny. Her bottom lip had disappeared in between her teeth as she stared at him.
Harry shut the door behind him without even realizing it. And he could hate himself all he wanted, but somehow the way Ginny’s smile lit up her face like that made it all worth it.
* * *
He stumbled into Fred and George’s room nearly an entire hour later, shutting the door and then leaning back against it. His hair was still damp from the cold shower he’d just submersed himself in. It took a few minutes before he realized that Draco was sitting up on his bed - George’s, he thought - and staring at him with raised eyebrows.
“What?” Harry asked, a defensive tone in his voice. One corner of Draco’s mouth tugged up.
“Did you just fuck your ex-girlfriend?”
Harry swore and felt his cheeks burn as he moved to his own bed and collapsed on top of it, promptly burying his face into the pillow.
“You did!” Draco said gleefully, and Harry could almost hear him smirking. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Potter! I thought for sure you’d be a virgin for the rest of your life. Not that I often think about your virginity, but if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have thought you’d lose it so quickly-”
“I didn’t,” Harry interrupted, though his voice was muffled by the pillow so it was hard to make out.
“What was that?”
“I said I didn’t.” Harry flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “We didn’t do…that…”
“But you did do something?”
Harry groaned. “I’m not talking about this with you of all people, Malfoy.”
“Well who else are you going to talk to? Weasley?” Draco snorted. “I don’t know how well he’d take that.”
Harry’s insides twisted at the idea of Ron knowing anything of what his little sister did with him. He also didn’t like thinking about what the rest of her brothers would do, either. For God’s sake, she had six of them. It certainly wouldn’t be a pleasant day if they ever found out. He’d seen how Fred and George had questioned her last summer...
“Remembering your little tête-à-tête with the Weaselette?” Harry jerked, having forgotten that Malfoy was even in the room, and Draco snorted again. “Merlin, you do zone out easily, don’t you?”
“Shut it, Malfoy.”
“So what did you do, then?” Draco pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. “Come on, tell me!”
Harry’s cheeks warmed and he averted his eyes. Draco’s grin widened. “We didn’t do much,” Harry said hesitantly. “Just…kissed and…stuff.”
“Stuff?” Draco repeated. “Such as…?”
“Malfoy,” Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“Did she suck you off?”
Harry bolted up into a seated position, glaring at Malfoy from beneath his fringe. Malfoy’s grin became more of a leer.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he quipped, and Harry rolled his eyes and let out a long breath.
“Yes, fine, alright,” he snapped. His face had to be bright red by now, he just knew that it was.
“And did you go down on her?”
He could still taste her on his tongue, actually, but he wasn’t about to mention that. “Why do you want to know?” he asked instead.
“I don’t really,” Draco admitted airily. “But this conversation is embarrassing the hell out of you, which makes it fun. And as I’ve been bored out of my mind for the past two weeks, anything fun is a very good thing right now.” He smirked at Harry again, peering at him so hard that Harry thought he might be trying to read his mind to see what had happened.
And actually, seeing as how Malfoy was supposedly good at Occlumency, the idea of him being able to use Legilimency probably wasn’t too far-fetched. Harry abruptly tried to clear his mind, but he hadn’t practiced Occlumency since fifth year so he was sure it was a weak attempt. Draco’s smirk widened.
“Fess up, Potter. Why didn’t you two just go all the way?”
“Why didn’t who go all the way where?” a third voice asked, and if possible, Malfoy’s smirk went even wider. Harry’s eyes widened and he tried to communicate silently to Draco that if he even dared mention in the slightest what had happened, then Harry would have to kill him.
“Nothing, Ron,” Harry said, turning to look at his friend, who had apparently managed to crack the door open without Harry noticing and was now leaning halfway through it. Harry swallowed nervously and tried to look like he hadn’t just almost had sex with his best friend’s little sister. “It’s not important. We were just…talking.”
Ron peered doubtfully between Harry and Malfoy, like the idea of the two of them just talking was about as likely as Hermione deciding to give up S.P.E.W.
“Well,” he began to say, still looking uncertain, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You disappeared after dinner, Harry; we weren’t sure where you went.”
“Yeah, they were real worried, Potter,” Malfoy said snidely. “It only took him two hours before he was able to tear himself away from Granger so that he could go looking for you. God forbid you might actually be in danger.”
Ron’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he ignored Malfoy and continued talking to Harry. “I figured you were with Ginny or something-” Either realization had suddenly come to Ron or he’d just been bit on the arse by Ginny’s Pygmy Puff, because he cut himself off abruptly as his eyes widened. Harry’s mind ran through a string of curses. He could feel his cheeks going warm again, no matter how hard he tried to keep his face blank. “Right,” Ron said, blinking. “Okay. Um. Goodnight then. See you.” And then he was gone, the door closing rather loudly in his wake.
Harry winced. Draco let out a low whistle. “That was fun,” he said, turning back to Harry, who glared at him. “So you didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you-”
“Because I’m not going to sleep with her in her parents’ house, Malfoy!” Harry finally bit out, falling back onto the bed again. “It’s amazing we actually managed to get that much time alone as it is. And I shouldn’t have done it anyway. She’s - I mean, we’re not - we’ve broken up,” Harry said determinedly. “We aren’t together anymore. I can’t let that happen again.”
“Who exactly are you trying to convince here?” Draco asked, lying back down in his own bed. He yanked the covers up to his chin and then promptly turned away to face the wall, leaving Harry with his thoughts. “Night, Potter.”
Harry sighed, trying to calm himself. He bit his lip, remembering the way Ginny’s hair had been tangled in his hands, the way her pale, freckled skin had fit so well beneath his hands, the way-
No. None of that. He could feel himself growing hard again, and he quickly pulled his own covers up.
He couldn’t let anything with Ginny happen again. There were more important things going on.
“Night, Malfoy,” Harry said quietly, and then he rolled over and tried to fall asleep.
* * *
“Harry, are you even sure Grimmauld Place is safe anymore?” Hermione asked after lunch the next day. She’d blushed furiously and then promptly grinned at Harry when he had first spoken to her in the morning. Whether it was because of something Ron had said or because Ginny had told her everything that had happened the previous night, Harry didn’t know. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. He’d be mortified if Hermione knew anything about his activities in the bedroom.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
They were sitting around the kitchen table, Hermione, Ron, and him, discussing what they were going to do for the rest of the summer and how they were going to go about finding the Horcruxes. Ginny had gone off to a friend’s house earlier, for which Harry was very glad. Not only did he plan on never involving her in what he and the other two were doing, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last in her presence before he made a fool of himself somehow.
Malfoy was also absent, but that was because Harry had left him up in their room and he was pretty sure the other boy was afraid to venture out into the rest of the Weasley household alone.
“Well… I mean, Professor Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper, and…I’m not sure what happens when the Secret Keeper dies. Will anybody be able to get into the house now?”
“I think someone would have mentioned that to us, if it were the case,” Harry pointed out. “I doubt they’d just let it be open to the public for a month-and-a-half.”
“We could ask my dad,” Ron spoke up. He’d been suspiciously quiet around Harry during breakfast, but once Ginny had left he seemed to have opened up again. “He’s in the Order after all, and haven’t they been using it this summer anyway? It has to be safe then.” Hermione still looked doubtful, so Ron sighed and pushed himself away from the table to that he walk over to the stairs. “MUM!”
“You called, Ron, dear?” Mrs. Weasley said, a bit sarcastically, as she appeared around the corner. “I was doing the laundry, so be quick.”
“Mum, has the Order been using Grimmauld Place?”
“Of course we have,” she answered promptly. She glanced between the three curious expressions leveled on her, and raised her eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper and now he’s dead?” Ron supplied, as if it were obvious.
“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Secret Keepers have a way of passing on their duties. It’s very much like how Sirius passed all of his property over to you, Harry-” She glanced at him briefly. “-even though rightfully it should have gone to the next person in the Black family line. Just a bit of old magic, is all.”
“So who’s the Secret Keeper now, then?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing. He felt that someone should have mentioned this to him by now, but then again he was used to the adults leaving him out of things. He didn’t bother hiding his scowl.
Mrs. Weasley faltered. “Well… See, we’re not…entirely sure,” she admitted.
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked quickly. “Mrs. Weasley?”
“The thing is, Dumbledore didn’t tell anyone, at least that we know of, that they were going to be the next Secret Keeper. And generally, the person obviously needs to know ahead of time. So…”
“So you don’t know who it is,” Ron clarified. He let out a heavy breath. “Dumbledore would do something like that.”
“Well, who do you think he could have made Secret Keeper?” Hermione asked, looking thoughtful. “It would have to be someone he trusted implicitly, of course…”
And just like that, Harry knew who it was. In fact, he couldn’t believe no one else had thought of it yet. “It’s Snape,” he said in clipped tones, before groaning and burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, who else would it be?”
“Harry James Potter!” Mrs. Weasley exploded, and Harry started because he’d honestly forgotten she was there for a moment. “You watch your language, young man! I don’t want to hear you talking like that again!” She thwapped him across the back of his head. Ron snickered, and Harry shot him an annoyed look.
“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” he mumbled, but then looked at her sharply. “That’s who it is, though. It has to be.”
She looked uncomfortable for a second, and Harry wondered if maybe they had thought of it already. “Yes, Harry, we… Well, that’s the general consensus. That Severus is now the Secret Keeper.”
“And you’re still using the place!” Ron’s eyes were bulging. “You could have all been killed, mum! You’re crazy!”
“Oh, no one’s going to get killed,” Mrs. Weasley scoffed, which Harry thought was a bit rich considering what her boggart had turned into two summers ago.
“You’re not saying that you trust him, are you?” Harry said angrily, half rising out of his chair. “He killed Dumbledore, in case you forgot!”
Mrs. Weasley sighed deeply, and reached over to push Harry back into his seat. She left her hand on his shoulder, saying calmly, “Harry, dear, no one’s forgotten what he did. And certainly no one’s forgiven him. We’ve put extra wards up around Grimmauld Place, and while it won’t keep Severus from telling anyone where it is, we don’t think he’s going to. I don’t want to upset you, but…some people in the Order believe that… Well, just let me say that there’s reason to believe that Dumbledore had an Unbreakable Vow with Severus that may or may not explain a lot of what went on a few months ago.”
“An Unbreakable Vow?” Hermione repeated. “But then…there must have been a Bonder.”
“Exactly.” Mrs. Weasley nodded. “And who that might have been, we really don’t know.”
“Do you have any guesses at least?” Hermione asked. “Harry, what do you think?”
But Harry wasn’t listening. The words ‘Unbreakable Vow’ had sparked a memory inside of him that he’d nearly forgotten about. It took a second before he realized that he was staring at Ron, and Ron was staring right back at him with a knowing look in his eyes. Harry glanced up at the ceiling.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmured.
* * *
Draco was reading one of Harry’s books when Harry threw the door open so hard it banged off of the wall behind it, and he literally jumped at the sudden intrusion.
“Bloody hell, Potter! Give a bloke a little warning before you come barging in like that-”
“Malfoy,” Harry interrupted, walking over until he was standing directly in front of him. Draco peered up at him curiously. “What were the conditions of the Unbreakable Vow that Snape took with your mother?”
Draco’s eyes went impossibly wide. “How do you know about that?”
“Not important,” Harry said, his own eyes narrowing. “Just tell me.”
“I…I don’t really know,” Draco said, closing the book he was holding and setting it off to the side. “I didn’t - it was Snape who told me there even was a Vow, and I didn’t really stick around long enough for him to tell me about it.”
Harry sighed agitatedly and sat down on the bed across from Malfoy. “I know that already,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “That was after Slughorn’s Christmas party; I followed you and Snape.”
“Oh, of course.” Draco scowled and rolled his eyes. “You and your little stalking adventures last year.”
“He never told you anything else about the Vow?”
“Never mentioned it again. Not that I ever really talked to him much last year.”
Harry sighed again. “Damn. What did he say to you that night? That he was trying to help?”
“Or some such bollocks like that, yeah,” Draco said, nodding. “Why is this important?”
Harry ignored him. “What did he say that night…?” he said slowly, trying to remember. “I’ve got an Unbreakable Vow with your mother… Something like that…”
“No.” Draco frowned. “It was… He said he was trying to help me. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made an Unbreakable Vow. That’s what he said.”
“He said he’d help and protect you?” Harry repeated, arching his eyebrows.
Draco blinked. “Yeah,” he said slowly. His brow furrowed. “Killing Dumbledore would have been helping me, wouldn’t it? Since it was my task and I…couldn’t do it…”
Harry leaned back against the footboard of the bed. “It could be considered protecting you, too, since you were supposed to do it and if it didn’t get done, Voldemort would have killed you.”
“Yeah, right, protecting me.” Draco scowled. “Completing my mission was just like sentencing me to death, I don’t see how that’s protecting me.”
“Well, I doubt those were the exact terms anyway. Maybe he swore he’d do it if you couldn’t…” Harry trailed off as he remembered a conversation from months ago. There was something Hagrid had said to him… What was it? It had been important at the time, so surely he could remember… And then it hit him.
I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted an' maybe he - Snape - didn' wan' ter do it any more…Dumbledore told him flat out he'd agreed ter do it an' that was all there was to it.
“Oh God,” Harry said, feeling sick. His mind whirled. “There’s no way…”
“What?” Draco asked, startled. “What are you on about?”
Harry looked at him sharply. “Would your mother have asked Snape to do what you were supposed to if it seemed like you were going to fail?”
“I…I don’t…” His eyes went wide. “I don’t know. Do you think that’s what it was?”
“I have no idea.” Harry shook his head briefly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “That would…”
Severus… Severus…please…
“Shit,” Harry said despairingly.
Yes, Harry, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, I understood everything you told me. I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood more than you did.
“Potter?”
“He knew,” Harry moaned. “Oh God, he knew the entire time. How many times did Dumbledore tell me he trusted Snape? How many fucking times?! Over and over and over, no matter what I said to him.”
DON’T CALL ME COWARD!
“Snape had to have told him. That’s probably the first thing he did. And Dumbledore told him to stick with it. Even in the end, he fucking asked Snape to kill him so that Snape would fulfill his vow!”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Draco asked, sounding slightly bewildered. “Dumbledore was begging for his life, not asking Snape to kill him. How does that make any sense?”
It felt sort of odd realizing that Malfoy knew exactly what Harry was talking about since he had been there as well, but Harry didn’t have time to focus on that. His mind was working too furiously at the moment.
“Say that again,” he said in a low voice, turning to Draco.
“What-”
“What you just said, say it again.”
“Which part?”
“The Dumbledore was begging for his life part.”
“That was all I said.” Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Dumbledore was begging for his life.”
“Okay,” Harry said, breathing quickly. “Okay, say it again, and listen to what you’re saying.”
“Dumbledore was begging for his life,” Draco said slowly, looking at Harry as if he’d just sprouted wings.
“Listen,” Harry repeated.
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes, and then said, deliberately pausing between each syllable, “Dum-ble-dore. Was. Begg-ing. For. His. Life.” He paused then, blinking, and Harry nodded eagerly at him. “Dumbledore was begging…” Draco blinked again. “That doesn’t really fit, does it?”
“No!” Harry exclaimed. “No, it doesn’t! Not at all. Dumbledore never would have begged for anything, not like that. And he told me once that death was only the next great adventure.” He stood abruptly, crossing to the door, and called downstairs, “RON!” Then he turned back to Draco. “Dumbledore would have wanted Snape to go through with it,” he explained quickly. “So that he could stay undercover.”
“Undercover?” Draco muttered, arching an eyebrow, but Harry ignored him.
“It would have kept you safe, for one thing. Dumbledore’s big on the innocence of youth, and he’d just promised you protection and all that. And he was dying anyway, I think - oh.” Harry’s eyes widened and he paled so quickly that Draco actually stood and took a step toward him in case he fell over. “Shit. Fuck. Oh my God.” He met Draco’s eyes. “I killed Dumbledore.”
Both of Draco’s eyebrows went up this time, just as Ron and Hermione appeared outside the door. They glanced at Draco briefly, who was still staring dumbly at Harry, and then Hermione spoke up.
“Harry… Did you just say that you killed Dumbledore?”
Harry turned to face them, a wild look in his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. “Harry,” she said slowly, but he shook his head quickly.
“I’m not crazy,” he said, pulling them into the room so that he could shut the door. He ushered them over to his bed and made them sit down, while Draco slowly sat back down on his own. “I don’t mean I literally killed him. But - I mean, I just as good as.” He began pacing the length of the room. “You remember what I told you about that night? When Dumbledore and I were getting the Horcrux?”
He heard Hermione gasp and out of the corner of his eye he saw the way Draco’s eyes widened, realizing belatedly that he probably should have made the boy leave the room. But it was too late now and Harry’s mind was working too quickly for him to pause long enough to shove Malfoy out. Ron shushed Hermione, giving Draco a wary glance, and Harry continued.
“I had to force-feed him that potion, do you remember? I think... I’m pretty sure it was poisonous. It had to have been. Dumbledore was growing weaker and weaker throughout the entire ordeal, but he knew that - that if he just let go and died, then I would have blamed myself.” Harry choked on the last word, his eyes squeezing shut, and paused in the center of the room. “He kept telling me he needed to see Snape.”
It is Professor Snape who I need.
“Over and over, and I said I’d take him to see Madam Pomfrey, but he refused.”
Severus… I need Severus.
“He knew what was going on, too, when we heard about the Dark Mark. He probably realized what was happening, that Malfoy had made his move. And even after we saw it, he still ordered me to get Snape.”
Go and wake Severus. Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else, and do not remove your cloak.
“Because he knew, don’t you see?” Harry opened his eyes and looked at Hermione and Ron. They stared back at him, wide-eyed, and Harry was surprised to notice that his eyes felt wet. “He knew what Malfoy was going to do, Snape had told him. And he knew he was going to die, because the potion that I forced him to drink was slowly killing him. I forced it down his throat, even though he was screaming for me not to…”
“Harry…” Ron said, but Harry shook his head quickly. He opened his mouth to talk but was unable to form words. Hermione picked up where he had left off, speaking carefully, her brow furrowed.
“So Dumbledore was already dying, Malfoy was trying to kill him, and Dumbledore wanted you to get Snape - why? I don’t understand where it connects…”
“We think that Snape’s Unbreakable Vow with my mother might have been something along the lines of him swearing to kill Dumbledore if I couldn’t,” Draco spoke up, pale and looking like he was about to be sick.
“What?” Ron said sharply.
“No,” Hermione gasped. “He wouldn’t have-”
“He would have,” Draco snapped. “You lot don’t get it, he’s a Death Eater, he’s not on your side!”
“Listen!” Harry yelled, interrupting them. “Snape’s a good actor either way, and I still don’t trust him but - but Dumbledore did, so this…theory still works. Dumbledore wanted Snape there so that when Malfoy failed - because he knew you would.” He directed that at Draco, who scowled. “So that when he failed, Snape would be there, ready to go through with it. To kill him and-”
“And subsequently protect both you and Malfoy,” Hermione breathed, sudden understanding dawning in her eyes. “Yes - Harry - that…that makes sense! Sort of. I mean - it’s kind of far-fetched, but it works.”
“Do you know what this means?” Ron asked, looking from Harry to Hermione and back. “Snape might not… I mean, he might still actually be…on our side.” There was silence for a moment, before Harry dropped down onto the bed beside Malfoy and buried his face in his hands.
“I don’t want to believe it,” he mumbled. “I still hate him for what he did.”
“But it is a possibility,” Hermione said gently. Harry nodded slowly.
“It’s not!” Draco exploded, standing up so that he could tower over the three of them. “Snape works for the Dark Lord! He always has and he always will! Why do you think my mum went to him? Because she knows that he’s still loyal to Him! My aunt tried to persuade her otherwise, but in the end he went through with it. He agreed to that vow because he’s an evil, sadistic bastard. You can’t just stop being a Death Eater, you know!”
“So I reckon we should throw you out then, yeah?” Ron said, his eyes narrowing. “Since you’re so evil and all.” Draco visibly faltered, his right hand clasping unconsciously over his left forearm.
“You just don’t want to admit that you actually should have listened to him,” Harry said softly. Malfoy flinched. “Don’t worry, I’m not sure if I entirely believe it myself,” he continued, looking tired. “Dumbledore said it was important that Voldemort still thought Snape was loyal to him, but how far can an act like that go? Would he really have killed the only person who actually believed in him? The only person who trusted him?” But as soon as he said it voices of the past swept through his mind again.
DON’T CALL ME COWARD!
I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted an' maybe he - Snape - didn' wan' ter do it any more…
DON’T-
Snape didn' wan' ter do it any more…
-CALL ME-
…didn' wan' ter do it any more…
-COWARD!
“Fuck…” Harry murmured, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbing his eyes.
“I still don’t believe it,” Draco muttered. “You haven’t been around Death Eaters like I have. Some of them… You can’t just… And - and the Dark Lord is one of the most powerful Legilimens around, how would Snape have been able to hide something like that?”
Harry didn’t reply because the answer was obvious. Voldemort may have been a powerful Legilimens, but likewise, Snape was probably just as proficient an Occlumens.
“Perhaps we should just leave it for now,” Hermione suggested. “It sounds like the Order isn’t worried about Snape, so we shouldn’t try to cause trouble. Besides,” she glanced down at her watch, “your Apparating appointment is in an hour. We should get ready to go.”
Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to concentrate much on Apparition at the moment, but he also didn’t like thinking that maybe he really had been judging Snape wrongly all these years - it gave him a headache remembering all the different times he’d thought the man was evil, before grudgingly having to accept at the last minute that he wasn’t, only to suspect him for something else yet again the following year. Back and forth, back and forth. Would he ever really know?
“Finally,” Ron said, a grin splitting across his face. “First thing I’m going to do when I get my license is pop in on Fred and George. And then I’m going to do it again. And again. And once more, just because I can. See how they like it.”
Hermione smiled indulgently at him, but Harry caught her rolling her eyes once Ron’s back was turned.
“Malfoy, are you coming?” he asked, standing and stretching his arms above his head. Draco shook his head.
“You honestly think they’d see my name and not bring me in for questioning? No, I think I’ll stay here, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” Harry said, shrugging. “We’ll see you at dinner.”
lol, I promise we’ll eventually be getting to the Horcruxes and everything else! At least we’re making some progress with the Snape issue, yeah? Thanks so much for the comments! I'm so sorry I didn't reply to them for the last chapter, but I'll be sure to this time around! I really do appreciate all the feedback, it's very helpful. *hugs*
~Maxine
next chapter
You can also read it at my website, or at Skyehawke.
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 6500
Disclaimer: It's not mine. Really. J.K. Rowling's the brilliant mind behind HP.
Notes: Post-HBP, so yes, SPOILERS! Many, many thanks to my lovely betas, smutella and impish_nymph! Ladies, you're both fantastic!
Summary: Since when has conquering evil ever been easy?
--> All chapters can be found here. <--
previous chapter
~~Chapter 4~~
The wide-eyed looks of disbelief and something that could easily give way to anger that he could see growing in the Weasleys’ eyes nearly had Harry grabbing Malfoy’s arm and Disapparating on the spot. Since that was hardly an option, he forced himself to stand his ground and instead looked at Remus, who appeared to be more curious than anything else.
He was glad he had waited until after dinner to do this, because by now the other guests had cleared out of the Burrow. Beside him, Malfoy was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and doing his best to appear unaffected by the tension in the air.
“I promise he won’t do anything,” Harry said for the third time. “I’ve got his wand and everything - look, there’s nowhere else for him to go!”
“Harry,” Mr. Weasley said slowly, “We could find somewhere else for him to go. It’s good that he’s decided to switch-”
Malfoy looked up sharply before the man could finish. “Who said anything about-”
“Shut it,” Harry hissed, digging his elbow into Draco’s side. “Really not helping your case here.” Malfoy subsided and settled for glowering at nothing in particular, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.
“Harry, dear, it’s just that - you know what happened to Bill, we can’t-” Mrs. Weasley fretted, wringing her hands as she looked at her husband.
“We need to inform the rest of the Order,” Mr. Weasley said. “If he’s got the Dark Mark we can’t just ignore that. They’ll be able to find a place for him - a safe house, maybe.”
“The Burrow is the most protected place there is right now, you’re not going to find anywhere better!” Harry exclaimed. “Please, Mrs. Weasley - he didn’t know Greyback was going to be there, he didn’t mean for Bill - or anyone - to get hurt!”
“Just Dumbledore,” Remus spoke up, and Harry couldn’t help shooting him an annoyed look.
“Fine,” he said. “We all knew what he meant to do but the fact is that he didn’t. He lowered his wand, I saw it! And anyway, his family was being threatened by Voldemort.” Harry looked imploringly back at the Weasleys. “What if it was Ron? What if something happened to the two of you and Voldemort tried to use you against him? Don’t you think he might panic and do something rash?”
“Plotting someone’s death and very nearly going through with it is a little more than what I would call a rash action, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said tiredly. He ran a hand over his face and then gently took Mrs. Weasley by the elbow and led her to the table in the middle of the kitchen. “Here, let’s all sit. Harry, I’m not sure I understand why you don’t want to go to the rest of the Order with this. It’s not as though we’re saying you should toss Draco back to You-Know-Who. We’re still willing to help.”
“And this is quite an attitude change from last year,” Remus added. “You can’t blame us for being curious.”
“I just-” Harry sighed, reaching out to tug Malfoy along with him and push him down into a chair. He plopped down into the seat beside him. “It’s better this way.” Which wasn’t much of an answer at all, Harry knew, so he tried to elaborate. “The less people who know he’s here, the better. If Voldemort finds out…”
“He’ll kill my parents for sure,” Malfoy finished for him, finally looking up at the other people sitting around the table. “Desertion is worse than just - disappearing. If he thinks he can still lure me back by keeping my parents’ welfare on the line, then at least they’ll still be alive. If he knows I’ve gone to you people for-” Help. Protection. All the things he didn’t want to admit he was here for. He opted for scowling instead of finishing his sentence.
“But you didn’t,” Remus said. Malfoy looked at him. “You didn’t come to us; Harry said that Hagrid found you. In fact, you had more than a month to make this exact decision and you didn’t.”
For a moment, Malfoy shifted his gaze to the side, his fingers tapping agitatedly against the tabletop. “Your point?” he eventually said.
“How do we know you wouldn’t go back to him if Harry were to give you your wand back?”
“…You don’t,” Malfoy said. “And what does it matter anyway? I could sit here all day making promises, but it wouldn’t do any good because none of you would believe me. Not to mention the rest of your precious Order, if you told them.”
Harry sighed, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. Leave it to Malfoy to be utterly unhelpful. “I promise you nothing bad will happen while he’s here,” he said yet again. “I’m just trying to do what I think Dumbledore would have wanted done.”
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other, apparently having some sort of silent conversation between them. It was Remus who spoke again.
“If I recall, you’re a fairly talented wizard, Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “More than,” he said.
“And smart.”
“You would know, Professor.”
Remus nodded, watching Draco for a brief moment before he turned to the Weasleys. “He doesn’t have his wand,” he said. “If it remains that way for the time being, then I think-”
“Remus.”
“No, Arthur.” Mrs. Weasley laid a hand on his arm. “I agree, I think it’ll be alright. If he has nowhere else to go - maybe it’ll be good for him.”
“Good for me - ow!”
“So he can stay?” Harry asked, withdrawing his hand from where he’d pinched Draco underneath the table.
Mr. Weasley shared yet another long look with his wife, and then sighed. “He can stay.”
“And you won’t tell anyone?”
“For now,” Mrs. Weasley said. “But Harry, if something comes up, or if we feel the need to inform other people, then you need to trust us and let us do what we think is right, too.”
“Of course.” Harry nodded. “Of course - Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, you’ll see, it’ll be fine. Thank you!”
Draco seemed surprised, like he hadn’t actually thought they’d agree. Harry didn’t wait around for him to open his mouth and say something that might ruin everything. Instead, he grabbed the other boy by the arm and hauled him up.
“We really appreciate it,” he said as he pulled Malfoy out of the room. “Remus, I’ll see you soon?” He only just caught the man’s amused nod as he let the door swing shut behind them.
“Get off me,” Malfoy said once they were alone, shoving Harry away. “What’s with the manhandling? Perhaps it’s escaped your notice, Potter, but I can walk on my own.”
“Sorry,” Harry said cheerfully. He headed for the stairs, pausing when Draco didn’t follow. “…Problem, Malfoy?”
Malfoy, who’d been looking back towards the kitchen, shook his head. “No… They’re really going to let me stay here?”
“That’s what they said.”
“They’re far too trusting.”
“Is there a reason they shouldn’t be?”
Draco turned back to face Harry, staring at him with a somewhat perplexed look on his face.
“…Let’s hope not.”
* * *
Ginny took the news even worse than her parents did.
“How could you have brought him here?” she asked angrily, pacing about the floor in her room. Harry watched her from where he was sitting on her bed. “You know what he did to Bill. Harry, it’s because of him that Professor Dumbledore is dead! He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts!”
“Funnily enough, it was the Death Eater Malfoy didn’t let in that killed him,” Harry pointed out. “In fact, aside from what happened to Bill - and did I mention that Malfoy hadn’t planned on Greyback tagging along? - anyway, aside from that, the only thing the other Death Eaters managed to do was kill one of their own!”
“Aren’t you getting tired of sticking up for me yet, Potter?” Ginny spun around abruptly, and Harry turned to see Draco leaning against the doorjamb.
“Get out of here, Malfoy!” Ginny spat. “No one asked you to eavesdrop on us!”
“Then maybe next time you should shut the door if you don’t want the whole house to hear you,” Malfoy suggested dryly.
Harry honestly hadn’t been expecting Malfoy to venture out of Fred and George’s room for the rest of the night, so seeing him again so soon after he’d left him there was somewhat of a surprise. He frowned over at him. “What do you want, Malfoy? Something wrong?”
Draco adopted a look of faux innocence. “Just taking a tour of my new…place of residence.”
“Finding it to your liking?” Ginny asked tightly, her eyes narrowed.
“It’ll have to do,” Malfoy said with a shrug. “Smaller than I’m used to, of course. More cluttered. And the company is subpar-”
“Malfoy,” Harry interrupted, having solved that mystery quickly enough. It didn’t take much to realize that the only reason Malfoy was bothering them right now was so that he could irritate the hell out of Harry’s girlfriend. Er - ex-girlfriend. Right.
Draco smirked. “Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but. He leaned further into the room, as if examining the interior decoration. “So was that a little lovers’ tiff I just interrupted?”
Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but Harry beat her to it. “We’re not together anymore,” he said, and then when Ginny glared at him he added quickly, “At least, not for right now…”
“Shame, that,” Draco said, and he couldn’t have sounded more insincere if he’d tried.
“Harry, where’s Malfoy sleeping tonight?” Ginny asked, apparently deciding to follow Ron and Hermione’s lead and just ignore Malfoy altogether.
“Fred and George’s room.”
“And where are you staying? With Ron, I suppose?”
“No, actually. Er, I’m staying in Fred and George’s room, too.”
“…Excuse me?” Ginny asked dangerously. “Why?”
“Ron and I agreed it would be best if someone stayed in the same room as him,” Harry explained hastily. “Plus, their room already has two beds in it, and Ron’s room always gets too cramped when you try to stuff another bed in there. And Ron didn’t seem to mind too much, anyway.”
“That’s only because he’s going to sneak Hermione in there later on,” Ginny groused, crossing her arms across her chest.
“And that was entirely too much information,” Draco quipped, turning on his heel and leaving.
“I’d better go, too,” Harry said. He stood and crossed to where Ginny was standing, trailing a hand softly up her arm before his fingers closed gently around her shoulder. Bending down, he pressed a quick kiss against her cheek. “Night, Ginny. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“So I’m down to the cheek, am I?” Ginny asked, just as Harry was halfway out the door.
He paused, turning slowly back to look at her. “Ginny…”
“Harry, please.”
Harry stared at her helplessly. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, he knew that. He was already at the door, all he had to do was take one more step and he could go back to his room. Willpower, Harry, come on, willpower.
A familiar flowery scent drifted by, and Harry briefly squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to look at Ginny. Her bottom lip had disappeared in between her teeth as she stared at him.
Harry shut the door behind him without even realizing it. And he could hate himself all he wanted, but somehow the way Ginny’s smile lit up her face like that made it all worth it.
* * *
He stumbled into Fred and George’s room nearly an entire hour later, shutting the door and then leaning back against it. His hair was still damp from the cold shower he’d just submersed himself in. It took a few minutes before he realized that Draco was sitting up on his bed - George’s, he thought - and staring at him with raised eyebrows.
“What?” Harry asked, a defensive tone in his voice. One corner of Draco’s mouth tugged up.
“Did you just fuck your ex-girlfriend?”
Harry swore and felt his cheeks burn as he moved to his own bed and collapsed on top of it, promptly burying his face into the pillow.
“You did!” Draco said gleefully, and Harry could almost hear him smirking. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Potter! I thought for sure you’d be a virgin for the rest of your life. Not that I often think about your virginity, but if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have thought you’d lose it so quickly-”
“I didn’t,” Harry interrupted, though his voice was muffled by the pillow so it was hard to make out.
“What was that?”
“I said I didn’t.” Harry flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “We didn’t do…that…”
“But you did do something?”
Harry groaned. “I’m not talking about this with you of all people, Malfoy.”
“Well who else are you going to talk to? Weasley?” Draco snorted. “I don’t know how well he’d take that.”
Harry’s insides twisted at the idea of Ron knowing anything of what his little sister did with him. He also didn’t like thinking about what the rest of her brothers would do, either. For God’s sake, she had six of them. It certainly wouldn’t be a pleasant day if they ever found out. He’d seen how Fred and George had questioned her last summer...
“Remembering your little tête-à-tête with the Weaselette?” Harry jerked, having forgotten that Malfoy was even in the room, and Draco snorted again. “Merlin, you do zone out easily, don’t you?”
“Shut it, Malfoy.”
“So what did you do, then?” Draco pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. “Come on, tell me!”
Harry’s cheeks warmed and he averted his eyes. Draco’s grin widened. “We didn’t do much,” Harry said hesitantly. “Just…kissed and…stuff.”
“Stuff?” Draco repeated. “Such as…?”
“Malfoy,” Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“Did she suck you off?”
Harry bolted up into a seated position, glaring at Malfoy from beneath his fringe. Malfoy’s grin became more of a leer.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he quipped, and Harry rolled his eyes and let out a long breath.
“Yes, fine, alright,” he snapped. His face had to be bright red by now, he just knew that it was.
“And did you go down on her?”
He could still taste her on his tongue, actually, but he wasn’t about to mention that. “Why do you want to know?” he asked instead.
“I don’t really,” Draco admitted airily. “But this conversation is embarrassing the hell out of you, which makes it fun. And as I’ve been bored out of my mind for the past two weeks, anything fun is a very good thing right now.” He smirked at Harry again, peering at him so hard that Harry thought he might be trying to read his mind to see what had happened.
And actually, seeing as how Malfoy was supposedly good at Occlumency, the idea of him being able to use Legilimency probably wasn’t too far-fetched. Harry abruptly tried to clear his mind, but he hadn’t practiced Occlumency since fifth year so he was sure it was a weak attempt. Draco’s smirk widened.
“Fess up, Potter. Why didn’t you two just go all the way?”
“Why didn’t who go all the way where?” a third voice asked, and if possible, Malfoy’s smirk went even wider. Harry’s eyes widened and he tried to communicate silently to Draco that if he even dared mention in the slightest what had happened, then Harry would have to kill him.
“Nothing, Ron,” Harry said, turning to look at his friend, who had apparently managed to crack the door open without Harry noticing and was now leaning halfway through it. Harry swallowed nervously and tried to look like he hadn’t just almost had sex with his best friend’s little sister. “It’s not important. We were just…talking.”
Ron peered doubtfully between Harry and Malfoy, like the idea of the two of them just talking was about as likely as Hermione deciding to give up S.P.E.W.
“Well,” he began to say, still looking uncertain, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You disappeared after dinner, Harry; we weren’t sure where you went.”
“Yeah, they were real worried, Potter,” Malfoy said snidely. “It only took him two hours before he was able to tear himself away from Granger so that he could go looking for you. God forbid you might actually be in danger.”
Ron’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he ignored Malfoy and continued talking to Harry. “I figured you were with Ginny or something-” Either realization had suddenly come to Ron or he’d just been bit on the arse by Ginny’s Pygmy Puff, because he cut himself off abruptly as his eyes widened. Harry’s mind ran through a string of curses. He could feel his cheeks going warm again, no matter how hard he tried to keep his face blank. “Right,” Ron said, blinking. “Okay. Um. Goodnight then. See you.” And then he was gone, the door closing rather loudly in his wake.
Harry winced. Draco let out a low whistle. “That was fun,” he said, turning back to Harry, who glared at him. “So you didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you-”
“Because I’m not going to sleep with her in her parents’ house, Malfoy!” Harry finally bit out, falling back onto the bed again. “It’s amazing we actually managed to get that much time alone as it is. And I shouldn’t have done it anyway. She’s - I mean, we’re not - we’ve broken up,” Harry said determinedly. “We aren’t together anymore. I can’t let that happen again.”
“Who exactly are you trying to convince here?” Draco asked, lying back down in his own bed. He yanked the covers up to his chin and then promptly turned away to face the wall, leaving Harry with his thoughts. “Night, Potter.”
Harry sighed, trying to calm himself. He bit his lip, remembering the way Ginny’s hair had been tangled in his hands, the way her pale, freckled skin had fit so well beneath his hands, the way-
No. None of that. He could feel himself growing hard again, and he quickly pulled his own covers up.
He couldn’t let anything with Ginny happen again. There were more important things going on.
“Night, Malfoy,” Harry said quietly, and then he rolled over and tried to fall asleep.
* * *
“Harry, are you even sure Grimmauld Place is safe anymore?” Hermione asked after lunch the next day. She’d blushed furiously and then promptly grinned at Harry when he had first spoken to her in the morning. Whether it was because of something Ron had said or because Ginny had told her everything that had happened the previous night, Harry didn’t know. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. He’d be mortified if Hermione knew anything about his activities in the bedroom.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
They were sitting around the kitchen table, Hermione, Ron, and him, discussing what they were going to do for the rest of the summer and how they were going to go about finding the Horcruxes. Ginny had gone off to a friend’s house earlier, for which Harry was very glad. Not only did he plan on never involving her in what he and the other two were doing, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last in her presence before he made a fool of himself somehow.
Malfoy was also absent, but that was because Harry had left him up in their room and he was pretty sure the other boy was afraid to venture out into the rest of the Weasley household alone.
“Well… I mean, Professor Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper, and…I’m not sure what happens when the Secret Keeper dies. Will anybody be able to get into the house now?”
“I think someone would have mentioned that to us, if it were the case,” Harry pointed out. “I doubt they’d just let it be open to the public for a month-and-a-half.”
“We could ask my dad,” Ron spoke up. He’d been suspiciously quiet around Harry during breakfast, but once Ginny had left he seemed to have opened up again. “He’s in the Order after all, and haven’t they been using it this summer anyway? It has to be safe then.” Hermione still looked doubtful, so Ron sighed and pushed himself away from the table to that he walk over to the stairs. “MUM!”
“You called, Ron, dear?” Mrs. Weasley said, a bit sarcastically, as she appeared around the corner. “I was doing the laundry, so be quick.”
“Mum, has the Order been using Grimmauld Place?”
“Of course we have,” she answered promptly. She glanced between the three curious expressions leveled on her, and raised her eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper and now he’s dead?” Ron supplied, as if it were obvious.
“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Secret Keepers have a way of passing on their duties. It’s very much like how Sirius passed all of his property over to you, Harry-” She glanced at him briefly. “-even though rightfully it should have gone to the next person in the Black family line. Just a bit of old magic, is all.”
“So who’s the Secret Keeper now, then?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing. He felt that someone should have mentioned this to him by now, but then again he was used to the adults leaving him out of things. He didn’t bother hiding his scowl.
Mrs. Weasley faltered. “Well… See, we’re not…entirely sure,” she admitted.
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked quickly. “Mrs. Weasley?”
“The thing is, Dumbledore didn’t tell anyone, at least that we know of, that they were going to be the next Secret Keeper. And generally, the person obviously needs to know ahead of time. So…”
“So you don’t know who it is,” Ron clarified. He let out a heavy breath. “Dumbledore would do something like that.”
“Well, who do you think he could have made Secret Keeper?” Hermione asked, looking thoughtful. “It would have to be someone he trusted implicitly, of course…”
And just like that, Harry knew who it was. In fact, he couldn’t believe no one else had thought of it yet. “It’s Snape,” he said in clipped tones, before groaning and burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, who else would it be?”
“Harry James Potter!” Mrs. Weasley exploded, and Harry started because he’d honestly forgotten she was there for a moment. “You watch your language, young man! I don’t want to hear you talking like that again!” She thwapped him across the back of his head. Ron snickered, and Harry shot him an annoyed look.
“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley,” he mumbled, but then looked at her sharply. “That’s who it is, though. It has to be.”
She looked uncomfortable for a second, and Harry wondered if maybe they had thought of it already. “Yes, Harry, we… Well, that’s the general consensus. That Severus is now the Secret Keeper.”
“And you’re still using the place!” Ron’s eyes were bulging. “You could have all been killed, mum! You’re crazy!”
“Oh, no one’s going to get killed,” Mrs. Weasley scoffed, which Harry thought was a bit rich considering what her boggart had turned into two summers ago.
“You’re not saying that you trust him, are you?” Harry said angrily, half rising out of his chair. “He killed Dumbledore, in case you forgot!”
Mrs. Weasley sighed deeply, and reached over to push Harry back into his seat. She left her hand on his shoulder, saying calmly, “Harry, dear, no one’s forgotten what he did. And certainly no one’s forgiven him. We’ve put extra wards up around Grimmauld Place, and while it won’t keep Severus from telling anyone where it is, we don’t think he’s going to. I don’t want to upset you, but…some people in the Order believe that… Well, just let me say that there’s reason to believe that Dumbledore had an Unbreakable Vow with Severus that may or may not explain a lot of what went on a few months ago.”
“An Unbreakable Vow?” Hermione repeated. “But then…there must have been a Bonder.”
“Exactly.” Mrs. Weasley nodded. “And who that might have been, we really don’t know.”
“Do you have any guesses at least?” Hermione asked. “Harry, what do you think?”
But Harry wasn’t listening. The words ‘Unbreakable Vow’ had sparked a memory inside of him that he’d nearly forgotten about. It took a second before he realized that he was staring at Ron, and Ron was staring right back at him with a knowing look in his eyes. Harry glanced up at the ceiling.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmured.
* * *
Draco was reading one of Harry’s books when Harry threw the door open so hard it banged off of the wall behind it, and he literally jumped at the sudden intrusion.
“Bloody hell, Potter! Give a bloke a little warning before you come barging in like that-”
“Malfoy,” Harry interrupted, walking over until he was standing directly in front of him. Draco peered up at him curiously. “What were the conditions of the Unbreakable Vow that Snape took with your mother?”
Draco’s eyes went impossibly wide. “How do you know about that?”
“Not important,” Harry said, his own eyes narrowing. “Just tell me.”
“I…I don’t really know,” Draco said, closing the book he was holding and setting it off to the side. “I didn’t - it was Snape who told me there even was a Vow, and I didn’t really stick around long enough for him to tell me about it.”
Harry sighed agitatedly and sat down on the bed across from Malfoy. “I know that already,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “That was after Slughorn’s Christmas party; I followed you and Snape.”
“Oh, of course.” Draco scowled and rolled his eyes. “You and your little stalking adventures last year.”
“He never told you anything else about the Vow?”
“Never mentioned it again. Not that I ever really talked to him much last year.”
Harry sighed again. “Damn. What did he say to you that night? That he was trying to help?”
“Or some such bollocks like that, yeah,” Draco said, nodding. “Why is this important?”
Harry ignored him. “What did he say that night…?” he said slowly, trying to remember. “I’ve got an Unbreakable Vow with your mother… Something like that…”
“No.” Draco frowned. “It was… He said he was trying to help me. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made an Unbreakable Vow. That’s what he said.”
“He said he’d help and protect you?” Harry repeated, arching his eyebrows.
Draco blinked. “Yeah,” he said slowly. His brow furrowed. “Killing Dumbledore would have been helping me, wouldn’t it? Since it was my task and I…couldn’t do it…”
Harry leaned back against the footboard of the bed. “It could be considered protecting you, too, since you were supposed to do it and if it didn’t get done, Voldemort would have killed you.”
“Yeah, right, protecting me.” Draco scowled. “Completing my mission was just like sentencing me to death, I don’t see how that’s protecting me.”
“Well, I doubt those were the exact terms anyway. Maybe he swore he’d do it if you couldn’t…” Harry trailed off as he remembered a conversation from months ago. There was something Hagrid had said to him… What was it? It had been important at the time, so surely he could remember… And then it hit him.
I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted an' maybe he - Snape - didn' wan' ter do it any more…Dumbledore told him flat out he'd agreed ter do it an' that was all there was to it.
“Oh God,” Harry said, feeling sick. His mind whirled. “There’s no way…”
“What?” Draco asked, startled. “What are you on about?”
Harry looked at him sharply. “Would your mother have asked Snape to do what you were supposed to if it seemed like you were going to fail?”
“I…I don’t…” His eyes went wide. “I don’t know. Do you think that’s what it was?”
“I have no idea.” Harry shook his head briefly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “That would…”
Severus… Severus…please…
“Shit,” Harry said despairingly.
Yes, Harry, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, I understood everything you told me. I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood more than you did.
“Potter?”
“He knew,” Harry moaned. “Oh God, he knew the entire time. How many times did Dumbledore tell me he trusted Snape? How many fucking times?! Over and over and over, no matter what I said to him.”
DON’T CALL ME COWARD!
“Snape had to have told him. That’s probably the first thing he did. And Dumbledore told him to stick with it. Even in the end, he fucking asked Snape to kill him so that Snape would fulfill his vow!”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Draco asked, sounding slightly bewildered. “Dumbledore was begging for his life, not asking Snape to kill him. How does that make any sense?”
It felt sort of odd realizing that Malfoy knew exactly what Harry was talking about since he had been there as well, but Harry didn’t have time to focus on that. His mind was working too furiously at the moment.
“Say that again,” he said in a low voice, turning to Draco.
“What-”
“What you just said, say it again.”
“Which part?”
“The Dumbledore was begging for his life part.”
“That was all I said.” Draco’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Dumbledore was begging for his life.”
“Okay,” Harry said, breathing quickly. “Okay, say it again, and listen to what you’re saying.”
“Dumbledore was begging for his life,” Draco said slowly, looking at Harry as if he’d just sprouted wings.
“Listen,” Harry repeated.
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes, and then said, deliberately pausing between each syllable, “Dum-ble-dore. Was. Begg-ing. For. His. Life.” He paused then, blinking, and Harry nodded eagerly at him. “Dumbledore was begging…” Draco blinked again. “That doesn’t really fit, does it?”
“No!” Harry exclaimed. “No, it doesn’t! Not at all. Dumbledore never would have begged for anything, not like that. And he told me once that death was only the next great adventure.” He stood abruptly, crossing to the door, and called downstairs, “RON!” Then he turned back to Draco. “Dumbledore would have wanted Snape to go through with it,” he explained quickly. “So that he could stay undercover.”
“Undercover?” Draco muttered, arching an eyebrow, but Harry ignored him.
“It would have kept you safe, for one thing. Dumbledore’s big on the innocence of youth, and he’d just promised you protection and all that. And he was dying anyway, I think - oh.” Harry’s eyes widened and he paled so quickly that Draco actually stood and took a step toward him in case he fell over. “Shit. Fuck. Oh my God.” He met Draco’s eyes. “I killed Dumbledore.”
Both of Draco’s eyebrows went up this time, just as Ron and Hermione appeared outside the door. They glanced at Draco briefly, who was still staring dumbly at Harry, and then Hermione spoke up.
“Harry… Did you just say that you killed Dumbledore?”
Harry turned to face them, a wild look in his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. “Harry,” she said slowly, but he shook his head quickly.
“I’m not crazy,” he said, pulling them into the room so that he could shut the door. He ushered them over to his bed and made them sit down, while Draco slowly sat back down on his own. “I don’t mean I literally killed him. But - I mean, I just as good as.” He began pacing the length of the room. “You remember what I told you about that night? When Dumbledore and I were getting the Horcrux?”
He heard Hermione gasp and out of the corner of his eye he saw the way Draco’s eyes widened, realizing belatedly that he probably should have made the boy leave the room. But it was too late now and Harry’s mind was working too quickly for him to pause long enough to shove Malfoy out. Ron shushed Hermione, giving Draco a wary glance, and Harry continued.
“I had to force-feed him that potion, do you remember? I think... I’m pretty sure it was poisonous. It had to have been. Dumbledore was growing weaker and weaker throughout the entire ordeal, but he knew that - that if he just let go and died, then I would have blamed myself.” Harry choked on the last word, his eyes squeezing shut, and paused in the center of the room. “He kept telling me he needed to see Snape.”
It is Professor Snape who I need.
“Over and over, and I said I’d take him to see Madam Pomfrey, but he refused.”
Severus… I need Severus.
“He knew what was going on, too, when we heard about the Dark Mark. He probably realized what was happening, that Malfoy had made his move. And even after we saw it, he still ordered me to get Snape.”
Go and wake Severus. Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else, and do not remove your cloak.
“Because he knew, don’t you see?” Harry opened his eyes and looked at Hermione and Ron. They stared back at him, wide-eyed, and Harry was surprised to notice that his eyes felt wet. “He knew what Malfoy was going to do, Snape had told him. And he knew he was going to die, because the potion that I forced him to drink was slowly killing him. I forced it down his throat, even though he was screaming for me not to…”
“Harry…” Ron said, but Harry shook his head quickly. He opened his mouth to talk but was unable to form words. Hermione picked up where he had left off, speaking carefully, her brow furrowed.
“So Dumbledore was already dying, Malfoy was trying to kill him, and Dumbledore wanted you to get Snape - why? I don’t understand where it connects…”
“We think that Snape’s Unbreakable Vow with my mother might have been something along the lines of him swearing to kill Dumbledore if I couldn’t,” Draco spoke up, pale and looking like he was about to be sick.
“What?” Ron said sharply.
“No,” Hermione gasped. “He wouldn’t have-”
“He would have,” Draco snapped. “You lot don’t get it, he’s a Death Eater, he’s not on your side!”
“Listen!” Harry yelled, interrupting them. “Snape’s a good actor either way, and I still don’t trust him but - but Dumbledore did, so this…theory still works. Dumbledore wanted Snape there so that when Malfoy failed - because he knew you would.” He directed that at Draco, who scowled. “So that when he failed, Snape would be there, ready to go through with it. To kill him and-”
“And subsequently protect both you and Malfoy,” Hermione breathed, sudden understanding dawning in her eyes. “Yes - Harry - that…that makes sense! Sort of. I mean - it’s kind of far-fetched, but it works.”
“Do you know what this means?” Ron asked, looking from Harry to Hermione and back. “Snape might not… I mean, he might still actually be…on our side.” There was silence for a moment, before Harry dropped down onto the bed beside Malfoy and buried his face in his hands.
“I don’t want to believe it,” he mumbled. “I still hate him for what he did.”
“But it is a possibility,” Hermione said gently. Harry nodded slowly.
“It’s not!” Draco exploded, standing up so that he could tower over the three of them. “Snape works for the Dark Lord! He always has and he always will! Why do you think my mum went to him? Because she knows that he’s still loyal to Him! My aunt tried to persuade her otherwise, but in the end he went through with it. He agreed to that vow because he’s an evil, sadistic bastard. You can’t just stop being a Death Eater, you know!”
“So I reckon we should throw you out then, yeah?” Ron said, his eyes narrowing. “Since you’re so evil and all.” Draco visibly faltered, his right hand clasping unconsciously over his left forearm.
“You just don’t want to admit that you actually should have listened to him,” Harry said softly. Malfoy flinched. “Don’t worry, I’m not sure if I entirely believe it myself,” he continued, looking tired. “Dumbledore said it was important that Voldemort still thought Snape was loyal to him, but how far can an act like that go? Would he really have killed the only person who actually believed in him? The only person who trusted him?” But as soon as he said it voices of the past swept through his mind again.
DON’T CALL ME COWARD!
I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted an' maybe he - Snape - didn' wan' ter do it any more…
DON’T-
Snape didn' wan' ter do it any more…
-CALL ME-
…didn' wan' ter do it any more…
-COWARD!
“Fuck…” Harry murmured, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbing his eyes.
“I still don’t believe it,” Draco muttered. “You haven’t been around Death Eaters like I have. Some of them… You can’t just… And - and the Dark Lord is one of the most powerful Legilimens around, how would Snape have been able to hide something like that?”
Harry didn’t reply because the answer was obvious. Voldemort may have been a powerful Legilimens, but likewise, Snape was probably just as proficient an Occlumens.
“Perhaps we should just leave it for now,” Hermione suggested. “It sounds like the Order isn’t worried about Snape, so we shouldn’t try to cause trouble. Besides,” she glanced down at her watch, “your Apparating appointment is in an hour. We should get ready to go.”
Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to concentrate much on Apparition at the moment, but he also didn’t like thinking that maybe he really had been judging Snape wrongly all these years - it gave him a headache remembering all the different times he’d thought the man was evil, before grudgingly having to accept at the last minute that he wasn’t, only to suspect him for something else yet again the following year. Back and forth, back and forth. Would he ever really know?
“Finally,” Ron said, a grin splitting across his face. “First thing I’m going to do when I get my license is pop in on Fred and George. And then I’m going to do it again. And again. And once more, just because I can. See how they like it.”
Hermione smiled indulgently at him, but Harry caught her rolling her eyes once Ron’s back was turned.
“Malfoy, are you coming?” he asked, standing and stretching his arms above his head. Draco shook his head.
“You honestly think they’d see my name and not bring me in for questioning? No, I think I’ll stay here, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” Harry said, shrugging. “We’ll see you at dinner.”
lol, I promise we’ll eventually be getting to the Horcruxes and everything else! At least we’re making some progress with the Snape issue, yeah? Thanks so much for the comments! I'm so sorry I didn't reply to them for the last chapter, but I'll be sure to this time around! I really do appreciate all the feedback, it's very helpful. *hugs*
~Maxine
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You can also read it at my website, or at Skyehawke.