Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Conversation in the Dark ( Chapter 11 )

Part 11

Something cold and soft woke him up. With his eyes only half-open, the room looked blurry and dark, lit by a single candle on the nightstand beside his bed. The flame reflected off something shiny nearby, dazzling his eyes as he blinked. Something cool pressed against his forehead and he tried to reach up to take it off.

"Don't move."

A moment passed before Draco recognized Harry's voice. Another few moments went by before he realized that he was holding a cold compress to his face. "What are you...?"

"Snape said to try to cool you down," Harry mumbled, looking up at the door once as if Severus might be listening outside. "Your fever wasn't going down fast enough."

The bed shifted as Harry sat on the edge, careful not to sit on Draco's injured hand which lay on top of the blankets cradled by a soft cushion. Draco frowned and tried to make a fist. His fingers curled slightly and lay still, without the slightest twitch. He couldn't even feel it. Trying not to cry, he shut his eyes and turned his face back down against the pillow.

"How long have we been here?" he mumbled.

"A few hours. I don't know what time we were attacked, but I do know it's breakfast now."

Draco's brow furrowed. "How do you know that? There's no clocks in here."

"Um," Harry stammered. "I heard the bell. First bell. The one before classes, I mean."

Gryffindors make lousy liars, Draco thought, but he let it go. He didn't care about that at the moment. His hand was probably mutilated beyond repair and his whole body hurt and his back... he frowned and gave a tentative shrug. Nothing. He rolled his shoulders and still didn't feel any pain. His master worked fast if it had really only been a few hours. "Did Severus leave anything for us?"

"Oh yeah, a couple bottles of some really vile potion. He said for you to take one when you woke up." Harry grabbed one of them off the nightstand, but he hesitated before uncorking it. "You don' have to drink it. I won't tell if you don't."

"Why wouldn't I?" Draco winced as he slowly pushed himself up on his side. Even without burned skin, his body ached all over. He also realized he wasn't wearing his burned robes, just a pair of soft pants, probably pajama bottoms. "Give it here." He held out his left hand.

"I mean it, it's really vile," Harry said, but he unstopped the top and handed the bottle over.

Essence of lavellan, Draco recognized the scent and downed it all in one go. Although it was a liquid, it felt dry on his throat and he reached out for the glass of water by the candle. As he sipped, the aches faded but they didn't go away entirely, leaving a dull throb in his muscles and joints.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked, taking the bottle back.

"Do what?"

"Drink those things without gagging." Harry held the bottle up to the candle and looked at the grainy bits clinging to the side of the glass. "I usually can't even drink some of Pomfrey's stuff without spitting out the first taste, and Snape's potions make her medicine taste like candy."

"I've grown up taking them," Draco said, yawning. "Hell, I've grown up making them. When you have to brew them nearly every day of your life, you stop tasting them as a whole and taste all the different ingredients. They're not so bad then."

"All the ingredients? What was in the bottle, then?" Harry asked like it was a challenge.

"Lavellan and cobwebs," Draco said with a disdainful roll of his eyes. "Simple healing draught, I learned it as a child. But it doesn't react with other potions or spells, so Severus probably has a couple charms on me."

A sudden thought occurred to him. If Snape could only give him such a mild potion, that meant he probably did have a few charms on him, and complex, powerful charms at that. Maybe his hand was healing very slowly and Severus had just blocked out the pain. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up but he couldn't help it.

"What happened during the fight, after I got knocked out?" Harry asked. "Snape had to do something for the burns on my legs. He said if you hadn't protected me, it would've been a lot worse."

"He said that?" Draco smiled. It was nice to hear something other than the usual 'stupid child'.

"He also said I was lucky because everyone else there got really badly burned, including you." Harry stared at him hard. "What did you do?"

Draco took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm not sure. I cast a lightning spell, but inside the castle, it should've only stunned them. It shouldn't have been as strong as it was. But I'm not sorry it happened," he said, almost daring Harry to argue. "I hope they carry those scars forever."

"Scars?" Harry glanced at Draco's upper body, but he didn't see any damage aside from his maimed right hand. "How strong was that spell? Wait, you didn't have your wand--"

"I used yours," Draco said, speaking quickly when Harry's look darkened. "I didn't have a choice. They stunned you and they were going to kill me."

"How did you cast the spell?" Harry asked slowly.

"What do you mean, how'd I--?"

"How did you do it?" Harry demanded, leaning forward so that Draco leaned back, eyes wide. "Hermione put so many anti-theft jinxes on my wand, it should've been impossible for you to use it."

"I...I didn't..." Draco blinked in surprise. "I just grabbed your hand and held your wand up. If anything, the spell was stronger."

"You grabbed my hand?" Harry asked, sitting back. "You were holding my hand to use my wand?"

"It's not like I had time to ask permission. Besides, you wouldn't let go. The whole time I brought you back through Slytherin, you never let go of your wand."

"You're the one who brought me here?" Harry asked softly. "You...protected me from your spell and then brought me here while I was unconscious?" He seemed to say that more to explain it to himself than ask for confirmation, staring at the edge of the blanket as he thought.

Still wary that Harry might throw a punch, Draco waited until he looked deep in thought before easing back into the middle of the bed and propping up a pillow to lean back on. He glanced at the door and wondered when Snape would come back. That neither he nor Harry had a wand meant that the door was probably locked so that no one could get in or out. He hoped there were more candles somewhere, otherwise when this one burned out, they would be left in the dark.

After a few moments, Harry sighed and looked around the room. In the dim candlelight, he could only see the silhouettes of four other beds. "How on earth do you stand sleeping in here?" he asked. "It's like a prison cell."

"They're called dungeons for a reason," Draco said, relaxing as Harry seemed more at ease. "Besides, they're quiet. And you can let the curtains down--" he motioned at the curtains tied back at the bed's corner posts "--and read alone."

"You read in bed?" Harry asked. "You're as bad as Hermione."

Draco would've snapped at him but a soft pop near the foot of the bed made them look down at the two elves that had appeared. In her hands, Daffy held a tray obviously meant for Draco piled high with pastries and a bowl of hot soup stuck on the edge like an afterthought. With a more sensible meal and studiously looking only at Harry, Dobby did his best to ignore his former master.

"We's sent to bring you breakfast," Dobby said, setting Harry's tray on the table. "The headmaster says tell you he'll meets you soon and he's terrible sorry for everything."

With a disdainful sniff at the other elf, Daffy offered her tray and waited for Draco to nod in acceptance before she set it on his lap. He looked over it, impressed by the amount of different tarts and treats she'd prepared.

"Excellent service," he said softly, less interested in how she brightened at the compliment than at how Dobby gaped in surprise and wounded pride. In all the years he'd served the Malfoys, he'd never been complimented. "Daffy, can you tell me if the all the other students know about the attack last night?"

"Oh yes," she said, excitedly nodding her head. "They's all talking abouts it, how a bunch of students tries to kill Master Draco and Harry Potter, and how they was all in the hospital crying."

"Burned horribly," Dobby said, throwing an accusing glare at Draco. "And Professor Snape's refused to help so Madame Pomfrey can't treats them all fast enough. Sent them off to St. Mungo's, she did."

"And they's all knows how Harry Potter saved Master Draco," Daffy said over Dobby. "And hows you sick and hurt, too. Everyone's talking."

"Did Harry Potter really stand in front of Draco Malfoy?" Dobby asked Harry, glaring sideways at Draco. "That's a life debt for sure."

"I hardly think so, you spiteful little worm," Draco hissed at him. "Not when I had to drag him to safety."

Before Dobby or Harry could respond, Daffy grabbed Dobby's wrist. "Unnatural elf," she scolded. "Wanting to be free, takings wages, now spiting the masters...if there's time to complains, there's time to works." With an unceremonious pop, they both disappeared.

"'If there's time to complains...'?" Harry echoed.

"It's an elf saying," Draco said, taking a bite from one of the pastries. "Dobby's going to be hell to work with now. He used to hear that all the time from the other Malfoy elves."

"Your family had more than one?"

"Oh yes, we have four. Well, three without Dobby." He made a little noise as he finished off one treat and started on the next, the peach filling still hot inside the sugary crust. "Mm. Daffy really outdid herself this time." He spotted a small bowl of honey behind the pastries and dipped the corners in.

Harry sighed and started eating his own breakfast, picking out the sausages one at a time. "I suppose I'm the only one you're willing to speak courteously to."

"He started it."

"How very mature of you."

"If he's going to be spiteful, why should I be nice back?" He sulked when Harry just shook his head quietly.

They ate in silence, and one by one Draco finished all of the sweets on his plate. He stared at the soup bowl on the side, probably chicken soup to help him recover. Should've expected it, he thought. His mother had told him once that even muggles knew about chicken soup's magical restorative properties. He grabbed the spoon in his left hand and awkwardly held it in his fingers for a moment, but he decided that trying to eat with his off hand was too tricky, especially with someone watching. He picked up the bowl in one hand and drank it slowly, grimacing as he tasted celery. It was one of the foods he considered inedible, something Severus found amusing whenever he noticed his apprentice setting celery aside after drinking a potion that would make other people vomit.

"So now what?"

Draco glanced up. "What?"

"So now what?" Harry repeated. "I mean, everyone's going to know you're dark now. Classes will be almost impossible. I guess maybe if Dumbledore--"

"No." Draco took a little satisfaction in how Harry's jaw snapped shut in surprise. He set his breakfast tray aside and regarded him. "I don't plan on staying here long enough to give them a second chance at me. I'll rest up and fly out before Pansy arrives. With any luck, I'll meet her on the road, and then we'll find another place to hide."

"What? That's insane, after they've come so far--" Harry stumbled over his words and stopped when he saw the serious look on Draco's face. "There's a whole house full of children with her! And the Death Eaters are probably watching Hogwarts, it'd be even more dangerous to meet her nearby."

"Potter, the only reason she's been so cautious is because only a handful of them have brooms. If they could fly, there'd hardly be a problem. Before I leave, I can steal the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw brooms and take them with me. If there's still not enough, we can double up with the youngest children. Probably have to do that anyway..."he mused, starting to think of the mechanics of such a large scale flight.

"And where would you go?" Harry demanded. "Winter's almost here...again. You'll be freezing and starving--"

"I suppose we could always find a big muggle house and obliviate its owners. There's a few muggle borns in Slytherin. They'd know which ones to pick."

Harry fell silent for a moment and lowered his head. "Then...you'll be leaving? Today?"

Draco watched him pluck at the edge of his sleeve and nervously chewed his lip for a second. "You could come with us," he said suddenly.

"What?" Harry breathed.

If the subject hadn't been so serious, Draco would've smiled at how Harry's eyes widened like an awed child. "Come with us. It won't be any safer for you here. You defended me. They won't forgive that. But if you come with us, you'll be safer."

"With a bunch of Slytherins who hate me? Trying to get children past Death Eaters?"

"So what if they're young? You fought a troll when you were eleven. And Pansy, Blaise, Daphne, we're all dark children. You'd be surprised what we can do. Come with us, Harry. We could do this!"

"I dare say you could," Dumbledore said from the doorway.

Startled, both boys turned toward the door, and Draco nearly fell into Harry's lap as he turned too fast. Neither of them had heard the door's lock click open, but Dumbledore stood there with a contemplative look on his face.

"The idea of dozens of children flying across the countryside in the middle of a war is frightening at best, insane at worst. But then so is a single child standing against the dark lord long enough to set off a glorified bomb before flying across Britain." Dumbledore walked closer as he spoke, finally conjuring a chair and sitting a few feet from both of them. "With Harry at your side, I have no doubt that you could pull it off. But at what cost, Mister Malfoy? The dark lord's followers are everywhere. Even if they didn't attack, the cold would do their work for them. How many children would you lose in the flight?"

"Less than if we stayed here," Draco shot back. "I'd rather take my chances out there than watch your students pick us off one by one."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "The attempt on your life is a stain on Hogwarts' honor. I promised you sanctuary and you still came to harm. For that, I can only apologize. However, I do not believe that taking the Slytherins back through the countryside would be the wisest route, especially when remaining at Hogwarts may yet be your safest option."

"When the entire castle wants to kill us?" Draco scoffed.

"Fortunately, the entire castle does not want to kill you. Thanks in part to a handful of students doing their best to explain your situation, all of Gryffindor is willing to give you a chance, based on your previous good behavior and your efforts toward destroying the dark lord."

"So I'm attacked and nearly killed, but they're willing to forgive me? How generous."

"They're willing to trust a dark wizard," Dumbledore said. "A Malfoy, even. You know what that means."

Rather than look at the old wizard, Draco looked down at the bedsheets. How many people had his ancestors hexed and jinxed over the years? Tricked lost travelers into dark forests? Stole into homes and barns, leaving cursed amulets to wrack the family long after... His ancestors hadn't caused every mishap in England over the centuries, but they were certainly responsible for a fair bit. Sometimes he wished he could enjoy dreams like those, but he seemed cursed with their deaths instead.

"What about Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?" Draco demanded. "I hadn't done anything and half of them wanted me dead. Now that they know--"

"They will do nothing." Dumbledore's eyes hardened. "This evening at dinner I intend to address the students to ensure your safety."

"What can you tell them that they haven't heard already?" Draco asked.

"I will simply explain to them that the reason their fallen comrades are in St. Mungo's and not in our own hospital is because they broke the laws of sanctuary, and the backlash took the form of your spell."

"The threat won't stop everyone," Draco said.

"It won't need to. I also plan on telling them everything you've done for us."

"A handful of potions will hardly--"

"Your potions are responsible for the deaths of over a dozen Death Eaters and have saved the lives of our aurors countless times."

Draco's jaw snapped shut.

"I understand that your master has not informed you of what your potions have been used for. You may rest assured that I am not exaggerating when I say that your efforts have been instrumental in our war. Without you, we would be at a stalemate. Instead, we are slowly overtaking them."

For a few moments Draco considered that information, mulling over the various poisons and vapors he'd created and how the Death Eaters must have died. He considered how Voldemort knew exactly how fast Snape could brew his potions and must therefore know how the youngest Malfoy, as Snape's apprentice, had facilitated his master's work. And if Voldemort found out that the Hogwarts students had tried to kill him and then assumed that Draco would naturally run from danger--

"Dammit," he snapped, leaning back on his pillow in defeat.

In his chair, Dumbledore gave a soft sigh of relief and also leaned back. Harry looked back and forth between them in confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked Dumbledore while keeping an eye on Draco. "Is he staying?"

"It's not even a bloody choice," Draco growled, glaring at both of them for good measure. "The dark lord will know I'm the one responsible for killing his minions--"

"But it's the aurors who--" Harry started.

"That's not how the dark lord thinks," Dumbledore murmured. "Our Order members just deliver the poison. In his mind, the ones responsible are the ones who betrayed him and created the poisons for us."

"He'll be looking for me," Draco said, mostly in explanation to Harry but also to settle it in his own mind. "He'll have all his servants looking for any dark wizard who's left his service and--dammit!" He almost slammed his right hand down on the mattress but remembered just in time.

If it was just him, he was willing to risk it. After all, he'd crossed most of the country while the dark lord was insanely furious at him. Running and hiding came naturally to him, after all. But with all the children Pansy was bringing, many of them first and second years, he simply couldn't chance it. They'd be too slow to move, too awkward to maneuver and impossible to lead out of a fight. One wizard could slip through the dark lord's net. A whole house full of students, impossible.

"Severus explained that putting anyone out near the gate to guard the children would only frighten them off," Dumbledore said, smiling again now that he'd won the argument. "So we'll simply have to wait for them to arrive. You believe that Miss Parkinson can bring them through any ambushes the Death Eaters may have waiting?"

"She'll bring them here safely, I have no doubt." Now Draco's look turned doubly sharp. "And you will guarantee their safety once they arrive. Because if you can't, we'll simply take over the dungeons and I won't do a damn thing more to help you."

To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore's smile grew and he stood up. "Completely understandable. Now, I believe I've bothered you long enough and you do need rest. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Mister Malfoy. I trust I will see you at dinner?"

"...what?" Draco blinked. "Dinner?"

"Unless you intend for the Slytherins to dine in your common room, which I think would be uncomfortably crowded, it'd be best for them to eat their meals in the great hall. I realize you'd been avoiding it and dining in the kitchen, but I think you should make an appearance tonight."

"That's hardly--"

"A show of pride and strength," Dumbledore continued. "And of your willingness to forgive Hogwarts and give it a second chance. Since any students who might attack you are all in St. Mungo's, you can be sure of the rest of the school's peaceful intentions toward you."

"What about when they come back?" Draco asked. "I'm not foolish enough to hope that you'd send them to Azkaban but can I hope that you might consider expelling them?"

Dumbledore held silent a moment. "Normally I would. But we are at war, and if we cannot end it quickly then we will need every able wizard and witch we can get. All I can promise is that they will not harm you again. I will see to that myself."

Draco didn't know what he meant by that and decided not to ask, although he hoped Severus could give him an explanation later. For now he let it go. "Fine. I'll be at dinner."

"Thank you." Dumbledore glanced at Harry and for a moment Draco thought he might ask him to leave the dungeon since he looked well. But then the headmaster conjured away his chair and left quietly, locking the door behind him.

A long stretch of silence followed. Draco breathed out and stared at the covers over his legs. Amazing how all his plans could change so quickly. He hoped his Slytherins would forgive him for bargaining with their lives, treating them like pieces on a chessboard. His mouth twisted. Dumbledore was playing them all, and he didn't like it. More and more this felt like a game played between Voldemort and Dumbledore, with pieces saved or sacrificed according to their usefulness. But no one played a Malfoy for long. What would the two players do when their perfectly ordered pieces suddenly turned on them and refused to play the game?

I won't be his pawn any longer, he thought. I will do whatever benefits me, and if that means I occasionally do what Dumbledore wants, so be it. But if it means I do what he doesn't want, then that's fine, too. Father has his Knights. I have my Slytherins.

This is no longer a chess game, he decided. This is politics with armies on the side, and he could play politics with the best of them.

"So you're going to stay?" Harry asked softly.

"Yes, Potter. I'm staying."

"Malfoy..." Harry said, pausing to look at the door to make sure they were alone. "About that offer..."

Draco glanced up curiously.

"I would have gone with you."

A small smile appeared on Draco's face. "I'd hoped you would. I...I wanted to thank you. For what you did."

"It was nothing--" Harry said.

"No, it was. No one's ever done that for a dark wizard before. No one."

"You can't know that for sure."

"I can." Draco took a deep breath and pressed on. "You don't know this, almost no one knows about it, but...something about the way we cast magic, the way we let it control us, it lets us see things from the past. Memories of our ancestors."

Harry thought about that for a minute. "That's how you knew about the girl in your grimoire, the one who drew the dragons, isn't it?"

"You remembered?" Draco whispered.

"I've been thinking about it for awhile. It was like you didn't know her until you tried to remember her." He looked away. "I wish I could remember my family."

"I don't remember everything about her. Just how she died. That's the irony, all we dream is how they die. That's how I know for sure no one's ever tried to defend a Malfoy. Or any dark wizards. We would know."

"Every night you watch them die?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't watch them. I am them. I feel everything they felt when they died, or when they were running for their lives. But it's not every night. It's usually only a few nights out of the month. Although lately it's been much more often..."

"That's awful."

"It's just the way it is."

Harry fell silent and didn't answer. After a few seconds, Draco yawned and began to ease back under the blankets. "Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I do need to rest." As he lay his head on the pillow, he noticed Harry still staring at nothing. "You should get some sleep, too."

"Right." Harry set the two breakfast trays on top of each other and left them for an elf to collect later, then walked over to the nearest bed. "It's weird, I only got stunned but I feel like I went through a battle."

"You did," Draco said. He watched Harry pull the blankets back and slide into bed, noticing for the first time that he was still wearing the clothes from the night before. Which made sense, he thought. Snape's good will only extended to letting the Gryffindor stay over. Bringing him clean clothes or anything else was out of the question.

"Hey, Malfoy," Harry called. "Whose bed am I sleeping in?"

"That one? Nott's, I think. Why?"

"Just want to make sure I'm not in Crabbe or Goyle's bed."

"No, they're nearest to the door."

"Like guards?"

"I guess." He pulled the blankets up to his shoulder and turned over to sleep on his stomach, careful to leave his right hand out like Severus had left it.

"Will your friends still hate me when they come back?"

Draco chuckled. "I'll let them know we don't hate you anymore. In fact, I promise that if we have to stay down here, you'll be welcome, too."

"Even if Snape still hates me?"

"There's no if about that, Potter. Nothing will ever make him like you. But he'll put up with you if I ask."

"Oh."

A long pause. Draco yawned again and closed his eyes.

"Malfoy?"

"Go to sleep, Potter..."

"Are you going to leave the candle burning?"

Draco blinked and opened his eyes, staring at the soft orange glow. "I'd rather, if it doesn't bother you."

"No bother. Good night."

"Night." He lay watching the candle burn steadily for several minutes, unmoving as he listened to Harry's breaths deepen. Sleeping with someone nearby made him feel much more comfortable, and he briefly remembered his first night back, sleeping all alone in the cold hospital wing with the snow hitting the windows and pale moonlight making sharp shadows on the wall. Here the flame reflected on the glass on the nightstand, turned the walls a dark orange, and glistened on something very near his eyes.

Draco straightened. There on the mattress just in front of his face was a small dark hair. Glancing once at Harry to make sure he was asleep, Draco picked up the hair and held it to the light. It was one of Harry's, he was certain. Seconds passed as he gently twirled it between his fingers. He knew Harry had a chance of defeating the dark lord simply because he didn't know the rules of society, but at the same time, Harry had just left a single hair for a dark wizard to find. Draco smiled. If Weasley could see him now, the red head would probably beat him into the floor.

He glanced back at Potter, then down at the hair. And made his decision in an instant. Tugging at the hair above his eyes, he found one approximately the same size as Harry's and pulled it out with a wince. Working one-handed was difficult, but he managed to twirl the two hairs together. That done, he leaned over the nightstand and pulled open the drawer, rummaging through the odds and ends he'd stuffed inside over the years. He didn't have ready access to Snape's supplies, but he didn't need to for what he had in mind.

"C'mon...where are you?" he whispered, pushing aside scraps of paper, broken quills, a deck of cursed playing cards, a few pages he'd torn out of other people's books, loose tie pins, a small blue butterfly in a glass case he'd bought years ago and forgotten about, and finally several tiny vials that had fallen into a corner. He found one with a cork top and pulled it out, blowing off the dust that had gathered on it. He also tore off a corner from one of his old notes and grabbed a quill that still had some ink.

Writing left-handed made his letters hard to read, but he managed to write Draco and Harry on either side of the paper. Then he wrapped the paper around the two hairs and tucked them into the vial. With one more glance to Harry to make sure he hadn't heard him so far, he reached for the bowl of honey on his breakfast tray.

Very little honey was left, but he didn't need much. He tipped the edge over the vial and slowly filled it up, corking it when he was done. For a moment he smiled at the little charm he'd made. It was a weak amulet, something children toyed with while their parents roamed the countryside at night, but since it was so weak, maybe no one would find it. Only his closest friends might notice Harry becoming closer to Draco, arguing less with him, spending more time with him, and generally more willing to defend him against anyone. He'd trusted Dumbledore for too long. He wanted a bit more protection than what the headmaster could offer, and using Harry to provide it seemed fair to him. He slipped the amulet under his pillow and lay back down. Later on he'd find a string for it and wear it around his neck for safekeeping.

"Thank you, Potter," he whispered to himself as he closed his eyes. "Looks like something good's come out of that attack after all."

TBC...