Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Coming Out ( Chapter 12 )

Part 12

Dreams came to him as he slept through the day, not the nightmares of his ancestors' deaths but of flying through the twilight sky on a broom made of ancient magics, dipping through the clouds as the stars glimmered and the moon lit his way over the tree tops. The wind lifted him up higher and higher until he watched the land fly by like a patchwork quilt dotted with houses and barns. There was no need to hide from muggles or light wizards, and he was vaguely aware of several more wizards and witches flying behind him as they crossed the countryside. He lowered his broom in an easy swoop and came back up again for the sheer pleasure of the night air swirling around him.

"You were right," someone said close by. "It's even more beautiful when the sun sets."

"You can only see the stars at night," Draco said. He tried to turn to see who'd spoken, but he could only turn his head a little bit, just enough to see the tip of his companion's Firebolt broom. The more he tried to look, the farther away his companion flew until he seemed like a little gold bird in the distance. Then Draco put his hand out and gently cupped the bird in his hand and pulled it close to his chest.

"I've finally caught you," he whispered, and then he woke up.

Sitting at his bedside, Severus met his eyes as he blinked the sleep away. "No nightmares today?"

Had he slept through the whole day? It seemed like he'd just closed his eyes. "No nightmares. I just remember flying and...someone was with me, I think." He groaned as he shook the sleep out of his head.

"Mm. Can you move your hand?"

Looking over at his right hand and wincing at the candle light, Draco tried to make a fist. His fingers curled loosely and with no strength behind them. A dull ache started in his bones, growing stronger as he flexed.

"It hurts," he said.

"Good," Snape said. "That means it's healing. Sit up and drink this."

Another potion was thrust into his hands and he drank it down, noting the heather, vervain and several different types of toadstools that he didn't try to sort. Another healing draught.

"And how does your back feel?"

He rolled his shoulders and stretched a little. "Fine. Did it scar?"

"You're just like your father," Snape sighed, gathering his things together. "Survives a fight by the skin of his teeth and all he cares about is that he's not going to scar."

"What fight?" Draco asked.

"Back when we were still students," Snape said, not offering any more information. "Now, I understand you told the headmaster that you intend to stay here?"

"Yes," Draco said slowly. There was no way to tell what his master thought. "Was that the best choice?"

"I can hardly foretell the future. Time alone will tell us if your decision was prudent or if it will cost the lives of the children." Snape glanced at him and saw the worried look on his apprentice's face. "But it may be the most practical choice at the moment. After all, you can easily leave the castle at a later time if need be."

That didn't sound very reassuring to Draco, but he didn't say anything except to ask what time it was.

"An hour before dinner," Snape said. "Which gives you enough time to shower and get ready."

"This feels a little insane," Draco said.

"Of course it's insane," Snape said as he stood up. "No dark wizard has ever come into the open like this before. But then...so much is changing, even though no one seems to notice. If you can pull this off..." He let the thought hang as he moved towards the door, but he turned just before he left. "Well, hurry up. Get ready. And you'd better wake up Potter. If he's not with you tonight, they'll think we sacrificed him."

"Right." Draco watched him go and looked back at the nightstand, spotting his and Harry's wands next to the candle. Relieved to see them, he eased out of bed, rubbing his sore hand as he knelt and rummaged through the trunk at the foot of his bed. Once he had a handful of clothes, he grabbed both wands, then walked over and put a hand on Harry's shoulder to shake him. "Get up, Potter."

"...wha?" Harry mumbled something unintelligible and turned over.

"I said wake up," Draco said and shook him hard. "It's almost time."

Still grumbling, Harry sat up and glared, but without his glasses and with worse hair than usual, he didn't frighten Draco at all. "It can't be time. I just laid down."

"You've been asleep for hours," Draco said. "Come on."

He waited until the other boy got up and then realized that Harry didn't have an extra change of clothes. Draco figured he could give them a quick cleaning while he was in the shower.

"Did anyone come by while I was asleep?" Harry asked, following him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

"This isn't the hospital," Draco said. "Even if your friends tried to visit, I doubt Severus would let them in."

Taking the nearest shower stall, he hung his clothes on the towel rack and stepped inside, closing the curtain before he stripped off his pajama pants. After whispering his cleansing chant a few times under the hot water, he felt something cold splash against his foot and he looked down. To his surprise, Harry had chosen the shower right next to him again, and apparently he preferred his water at a cooler temperature than nearly scalding.

Draco paused, staring at the thin metal wall between him and Harry. He put his hand against it to feel the water from the other side strike it and closed his eyes, listening as the water changed pitch against the tile as Harry moved. He leaned forward until his forehead touched the wall, just standing and listening. Knowing Harry was so close felt reassuring.

With a start he blinked and stepped back, one hand over his mouth. He hadn't expected his little amulet to take effect so quickly or to spill over into his own emotions. After the initial shock, he figured that at least he knew it was working. Finishing his shower quickly, he dressed and stepped out, relieved that Harry was still washing. He aimed his wand at the pile of clothes on the floor and scourgified them, then added a pressing charm to give them an ironed look before he lay Harry's wand on top.

"I'll wait for you in the common room," he said as he left.

"Be out soon," Harry answered.

A large bowl of apples stood on one of the end tables, so Draco grabbed one and sat down to eat. A few seconds later he stood up and started pacing as he ate. When he finished, he tossed the core into the fireplace and sat down again. He drummed his fingers on the seat for a little while, then stood up and paced the room again.

His mind refused to stop whirling. His Slytherins were coming home tonight, but first he had to face the rest of the school. Maybe they would hex him before Dumbledore started talking. Maybe someone would try to get revenge for what he did to their friends. Maybe Death Eaters would try to storm the castle tonight. He heaved a sigh and stared at the glass window to the lake.

"And maybe the apples are poisoned," he chided himself. Worrying wouldn't help anything and there were no memories from his ancestors to help him, so he leaned against the glass with his eyes shut and tried not to think about it.

When he looked up again, the giant squid's massive eye was staring right at him. He cried out and jumped back, knocking his hip against the table's corner. As he hissed in pain, he tilted his head and watched the squid hover in front of him, its tentacles stretching out in all directions. This close, it looked like a horrible monster pulsing in the water. Draco wondered if something was wrong with it. The squid had never looked into the room like this. It always swam by without noticing anyone inside.

"Its even bigger than I thought," Harry whispered from the doorway.

Draco glanced over his shoulder at him but didn't answer. The squid's tentacles brushed against the glass and followed the edges where it met the stone, as if searching for a gap. As it moved, its body turned up slightly, giving both of them a clear view of its sharp beak opening and closing slowly. Scowling, Draco raised his wand and cast a lumos so bright that the squid shot away into the murky water, its tentacles leaving streaks on the glass for a few seconds before the currents washed them away.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry demanded, stepping closer. "It wasn't doing anything."

"It..." Draco stared after it and hoped it wouldn't come back. "It's not supposed to..."

Harry leaned forward, trying to get a look at Draco's face. "Malfoy, did it scare you?"

Feeling his face heat up, he turned away and went to stand by the fireplace, hoping that the flames would explain his flushed skin. To his dismay, Harry followed after him, but he was saved by the door opening and Severus coming through.

"Good, you're ready," Snape said when he saw them. "Let's go."

The walk to the great hall never felt so long. The whole school was uncommonly quiet. Usually at dinner, stragglers would still dot the corridors and students skipping a meal would be on their way to the library. Now their footsteps sounded too loud and Draco felt like the school was empty.

"Don't let your guard down," Severus said as they walked. "That goes for you, too." He glared at Harry as if speaking to him was an insult. "They may be focused on us, but they're hardly enamored of you, either."

Harry ignored Snape's attitude and instead looked at Draco, who walked with his head slightly lowered. "Gryffindor won't attack you. You could sit with us if--"

"No," Draco said, cutting him off quickly, before he gave into temptation to sit beside the boy who'd protected him. "No. I'll be all right." He smiled. "You'll be right across the room in any case."

Brightening when he saw Draco's smile, Harry nodded once.

Severus took them around to the front doors and paused a moment, giving them all a chance to steel their nerves. Draco went to put the hood of his cloak up and almost panicked until he remembered that he wasn't wearing it. He took a deep breath and raised his head as Snape pushed the doors open and led them in.

The entire student body turned to watch them enter. Conversations died and whispers started as Harry left their side and walked to his table, smiling nervously as he sat down at the space Ron and Hermione made for him. On the other side of the room, Draco followed just behind his master and crossed around to sit at the head of the Slytherin table, facing the students. Severus continued up and sat at his usual seat, ignoring the teachers watching him out of the corner of their eye.

Draco sat ramrod straight, one hand on the table and the other beneath it, gently easing his wand out of its pocket and resting it on his lap. Now he waited, breathing shallow and staring at a spot on the floor near the front table. In his peripheral vision he could keep everyone in sight. No matter what happened, the first one to attack him or Harry would be cut down before they could form the spell.

At the front of the room, Dumbledore stood up and faced the hall, waiting for the whispers to fade away before he spoke. "I know that you have all heard rumors regarding last night and the continued absence of several of your housemates today, rumors that a group of students gathered in the dungeons to make an attempt on another student's life. I am sad to say that the rumor is true." Startled whispers started flying, but Dumbledore did not wait for them to stop, instead talking over them until they quieted.

"Last night several Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students attempted and came quite close to murdering both Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. It is a testament to the skill and ingenuity of these two boys that they are still alive, and it is to the shame of Hogwarts that they had to defend themselves at all." He paused to take a breath. "The absence of their attackers is not due to any punishment, but is rather the retribution of a broken sanctuary vow. It shall be many days before they can be released from St. Mungo's, and you can be sure that any further attacks will result in similar injuries, if not outright death."

"By now, I have no doubt that you have come to a conclusion regarding Mister Malfoy's affiliations. However, what you do not know is that his actions have already won several battles against the dark lord, depriving him of nearly half of his Death Eaters in one fell swoop and causing the deaths of several more. All of you have heard about the destruction of his home, but few know that Mister Malfoy had to risk capture to destroy the manor himself before flying across the country in the middle of a blizzard to reach Hogwarts. And his efforts while under our protection have been crucial to fighting the dark lord."

Draco almost laughed. Dumbledore made it sound like such a heroic adventure. Some day when this was all written down in the history books, he hoped no one would remember that he'd been too petrified to think when he'd faced Voldemort, or that he'd nearly crippled himself while he panicked and hid in his dormitory. He couldn't help a small smile from escaping. A heroic Malfoy in the history books, wouldn't that be amazing?

Amongst all the whispers in the great hall, one stood out among the rest. A first year's voice, probably, too young to keep her voice down as she clearly asked, "but he's a dark wizard, isn't he?"

Everyone stilled as the question hung in the air. Draco swallowed and tightened his grip on his wand. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to dodge this question with euphemisms, and he braced himself in anticipation. At the front table, although he didn't look, he knew Snape was doing the same. His breathing started to come in quick shallow bursts and he struggled to keep himself still. No matter how much he wanted to bolt, he knew running would only make things infinitely worse.

"Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore started slowly, "is indeed a dark wizard."

Immediately everyone turned and faced him, as if that pronouncement meant that Draco would suddenly change shape before them, his true form revealed. Seeing the same thin blonde who wouldn't return their look was a bit of a letdown.

"I sincerely doubt any of you have ever seen a dark wizard or witch and realized it," Dumbledore said. "They are not the monsters you've read about in your storybooks. They keep very well hidden, and for good reason I might add, if last night's attempt on Mister Malfoy's life is any indication. And yet he sits before you, willing to trust you despite the actions of your classmates. Despite any actions you yourselves might have taken before today, if you'd been as certain as your friends."

"Then...he's really on our side?" the same child asked from the Hufflepuff table, her voice carrying through the silent hall.

"He has lost his home and quite possibly his family to aid us in this fight," Dumbledore said gravely. "And he has proven his intentions to my satisfaction. In fact, he has proven his intentions so well that Mister Potter stood between him and the mob."

That certainly sent fresh whispers across the hall, but whispers of a distinctly approving tone, and Draco started to let himself believe that this might actually work.

"For the first time in our collective history," Dumbledore said, "we have the chance to end the long conflict between dark and light. Draco Malfoy took the first step in trusting us. Harry Potter took the second to prove that trust was not in vain. Can we have faith that the rest of Hogwarts will honor that trust?"

Long seconds passed as the question lingered. Draco wondered why on earth Dumbledore had asked that and fought the urge to look at the rest of the hall as the students looked around at each other, wondering what to do.

"Gryffindor will honor that trust."

Draco blinked as Ron's voice echoed around him and faded. His gaze swept the Gryffindor table, looking for any sign of deceit or reluctance. There was none.

"Hufflepuff will honor that trust," came almost immediately after.

At their table, it seemed like every Hufflepuff wanted to redeem their house's besmirched honor. Like everyone else, he waited for the last table to echo the sentiment. This time he could see the reluctance on their faces. He had no doubt that Ravenclaw students had delved into the library and the forbidden section to glean more information on dark wizards, finding more false stories than true, although he was sure the true stories meticulously described dark wizards' less savory pastimes.

"Ravenclaw will honor that trust." Spoken like a Ravenclaw promise, too, with cautious reservation and unspoken conditions. But it was still a promise.

Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and from a quick glance at Severus, he saw his master do the same.

Dumbledore smiled as if he'd expected this outcome the entire time. "I find that as I get older, my highest hopes are realized not by adults but by the boundless idealism of youth. Perhaps when this conflict is defeated, we will discover that we have won not one but two wars, one against the dark lord and one against ourselves. Now, I think we've dwelt on the unpleasant business of war long enough."

As dinner popped up on the tables, a tangible sigh of relief went through the whole hall, Draco included, and he slipped his wand back into his robe. The atmosphere was still tense, but at least the school wasn't contemplating killing him, at least not tonight. He looked down at his plate and hoped that Dobby hadn't poisoned it.

Dinner passed interminably slowly, and within a few minutes he started to wish his dinner was poisoned after all. No one could resist the occasional glance at the dark wizard, like children looking at a dangerous snake in a zoo, tapping the glass and hoping to make it move. Draco refused to look up or move except to eat, doing his best not to react to the poorly hid whispering as they gossiped about his missing parents or the Ministry officials still trying to talk to him. But he did keep his ears open and caught every scrap of information about Hogsmeade, how the ice cream parlor had closed and its owner gone missing, and then the rumors about how Amelia Bones' continued absence might not be illness like the Ministry said. They even listed the people they'd heard had died with a morsmordre over their homes. As he put what he'd heard together in his mind, he smiled. The dark lord was looking for the missing children, but he had assumed they would hide somewhere and had gone on a wild search through the homes of his traitorous Death Eaters only to find empty houses. He'd never imagined that they'd scurry into the forests like little night creatures.

But it didn't make sense. Why hadn't the dark lord known they'd disappear into the woods? It was what any good dark child was taught to do almost from birth. Maybe Voldemort was even more insane than anyone realized.

After awhile, the students realized that he wasn't going to put on a show and began to leave bit by bit. Silence was far more tolerable to their gossip and he relaxed in earnest as the room emptied out. After awhile only a handful of students remained, including Harry and his friends. Draco watched as he spoke with them, nodding when they seemed to ask him something. Hermione looked at Draco with a disapproving glare and then back at Harry, but they finally all stood and walked out, leaving him at the table. Harry pushed his dinner plate away and looked up at Draco, smiling. The last of the students left soon after, as had most of the teachers. Only Snape and Dumbledore remained at the front table, both of them having finished eating long ago. Severus was writing out something on a roll of parchment while he waited, and beside him Dumbledore slowly built a house of cards, carefully stacking it higher and wondering when it would explode.

Draco sighed and stood up, stretching slightly as he walked around to the center of the room, sitting on the corner of the Ravenclaw table. As he expected, Harry joined him.

"When do you think they'll show?" Harry asked as he sat.

It was the question he'd been dying to ask Severus, but Draco knew if he asked, his master would mock him for being even more stupid than usual. Indeed, he heard the quiet scoff from the front table. "Who knows? They'll be fairly well hidden so we won't even know when they come through the wards around the castle. We'll just have to wait for them to come in. Might not even be tonight."

"So...we're just going to wait here all night?" Harry asked.

"No one is forcing you to stay," Severus said.

"Still," Dumbledore said, adding another layer to his house of cards, "it would be a nice gesture for Gryffindor to have a representative to welcome the Slytherins back."

Severus glared at the headmaster and then at Potter and then went back to writing.

"Wish I'd known it could be awhile," Harry said. "I'd have borrowed Ron's chess set."

Draco gave him a sidelong look. "Got your wand?"

"Yeah, right here."

Turning on the table so that he was facing the empty hall, Draco pulled out his own wand. "Fyria raebaena."

A thin red stream of fire slipped out of his wand and into the air towards the ceiling, twisting like a snake as bits of orange and yellow flames sparkled along its length until he finally snapped his wand and cut the stream off. It glowed brightly for a moment, then exploded in a small shower of sparks. Harry held his hand out to catch them and smiled when they felt like feathers.

"What was that?" he asked. "Was that dark magic, too?"

"It's a ribbon of fire," Draco said. "It doesn't really do anything. It's just one of the spells I learned as a child waiting for...um..." His voice trailed off.

"Waiting for what?" Harry asked.

"For my parents to come home," Draco said, not mentioning that he'd waited for them to come home after flying around the countryside terrorizing the neighbors. "Our parents, actually. Pansy, Greg, Thomas, Vincent, all of us who live close to each other, we'd get together while our parents went off to, mm, social functions."

"Like sleep-overs?" Harry asked.

"Kind of." He sent another stream of fire, blue with green and white glimmers this time, spiraling towards the ceiling until he dispersed it into a cloud of smoke. Beside him, Harry raised his wand to try the spell himself. "Not too strong,," he reminded him.

Harry took a deep breath and concentrated. "Fyria raebaena!"

A gigantic bolt of yellow fire streaked out of his wand, crackling in the air with violent energy. Harry gasped and jumped back, which broke the connection between his wand and the ribbon. It pulsated dangerously close for a moment, sending out black bursts of power in all directions.

"Tempestas!" Draco called as fast as he could. A white beam engulfed Harry's spell and exploded in a harmless shower of white fluff that faded after a moment. He stared at Harry with wide eyes. "How the hell did you do that?"

"What? I just...I didn't expect it to...I just did what you did!" Harry said. "You said it couldn't do anything."

"It's never done that before!"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore called from his seat, his beard singed after the pulse of energy had detonated his cards, "fireworks are not the best means to pass the time indoors?"

"Sorry, sir," both of them muttered. Draco shot a suspicious glance at Harry but didn't yell anymore.

"Surely you can pass the time," Snape said, "with something a little less explosive?"

Draco frowned and thought, but nothing immediately came to mind. All of the little spells he knew were spectacular light shows. Maybe Malfoy magic really was flashy after all.

"Actually," Dumbledore said as he cleared the smoking remains from his table, "There is something within the realm of dark magic that I've heard of but never seen. Ever since I first found out about it, I've always been curious to see it."

Interested though a little wary, Snape glanced at the headmaster. "And what would that be?"

"I've heard of magic that instills life within inanimate objects, usually dolls. Not the cursed dolls you'd find for sale in Knockturn Alley, I mean--"

"Poppets," Snape interrupted, his voice very soft. "We call them poppets, not dolls."

"But since it's forbidden magic," Dumbledore said, "I've never had a chance to see it."

Severus and Draco exchanged a look. After revealing the Malfoy line to the school, shying away from a small demonstration seemed ridiculous, but to create a poppet and set it dancing on the headmaster's whim went against every instinct of self-preservation they had.

"If it's too much to ask, I completely understand--" Dumbledore started.

"No," Draco said. "It's all right. I...I can do it."

Snape's expression let everyone know what he thought about such a display of magic, but he didn't argue. Malfoys were inherently flashy creatures, after all. "You'll need cloth," he said, and conjured a large rag for him, sending it across the air with a swish of his wand.

Draco caught it and turned it over in his hands. Green and tattered, he recognized it as a cleaning rag from the potions storeroom. Normally he would prefer using a clean section of cloth for any kind of spell, but a potions rag by its very nature had to be kept clean of ingredients, lest they accidentally combine and cause some kind of reaction.

He hadn't made a poppet in years, but they weren't difficult to make. He tore a few strips off of the sides and lay them in his lap as he folded the rag over and bunched the cloth out in places to make arms and legs. The torn strips were then used to tie off the limbs and make a bunch at the top for the head. When he was done, it looked like a little ragdoll, just big enough to hold in his hand.

Before Draco could ask, Severus tossed over the small knife he used to sharpen his quill. Draco grimaced but made the cut in his hand, his left hand this time because he was tired of mutilating his right hand all the time, and let a few drops of his blood soak the doll's torso, staining the green cloth black.

He glanced at Harry's hands. "Let me see your fingers."

"What?" Harry reflexively drew them away.

"Just let me see. I'm not going to hurt you."

Once offered, Draco grabbed Harry's hand and held it out. As he suspect, Harry's fingernails were long and messy as if he chewed them regularly. Considering he had a dark lord out to kill him, that was understandable. "Hold still," he said, using the quill knife to cut off a few bits of his fingernails and push the pieces into the doll's folds.

"That's not going to do anything to me, is it?" Harry asked.

"Not at all." Draco jumped off the table and walked over to Dumbledore, climbing up on the raised floor so he could stand in front of him. He held the doll up to his face and breathed over it once, then set it before the headmaster and tapped it on the head three times.

At first nothing happened. And then slowly, like a leaf blown by a breeze, the poppet's arms started to move. It turned over on its side and came up to its feet, swaying unsteadily. Moving like a marionette with broken strings, it bent its arms and legs in haphazard angles trying to walk towards Dumbledore, who leaned closer for a better view.

"Don't let it touch you," Snape warned him. "Fingernails were used, so it's fairly dangerous to touch it now that it's moving."

"Fascinating," Dumbledore whispered. "I'd read about it, but I've never seen necromancy step by step. It's only blood and breath and nails, though."

"Grass is better if you want a harmless poppet," Snape said. "That thing would drain the lifeforce right out of you if it got close enough."

"That's what you said before," Harry said, looking at Draco. "I remember, when you were talking about Knockturn Alley and the woman there selling fingernails."

"'Selling them'?" Dumbledore asked. "Yes, I recall seeing such vendors on my occasional visits. But why sell them when they grow so readily?"

"Can't use my own," Draco explained. "Not if I use my own blood. They've got to be someone else's. I'm surprised you don't know about this, sir."

"Don't underestimate the lengths your culture has gone to hide itself," Dumbledore said, entranced by the poppet. "Despite my long searches, I've yet to find a book on dark magic comparable to our textbooks, or even your grimoire. Living under constant threat has made dark wizards more likely to pass information down orally than through the written word." He picked up a scrap of an exploded card and poked the poppet with it, keeping it at bay. "How do you get rid of them?"

"There's only a few drops of blood," Draco said. "It should just collapse in a few moments."

"Can you make them last longer?" Harry asked.

Draco hesitated before answering. "We can. It takes more blood, though."

"How much?" Harry asked, starting to frown. "Is this what Ron was talking about? Human sacrifices?"

"All blood is a sacrifice," Draco muttered. "But I haven't heard of a poppet being created that would need an entire life, not recently anyway. They're too dangerous. We don't make these little ones very often, either."

"Why would you need something like that?" Harry glanced at the poppet as it stopped moving and flopped over, its little time clearly run out. "Why make even a little one?"

"If you could sneak a few of these into a Death Eater's home," Draco said, "wouldn't you?"

Harry watched Dumbledore pick up the lifeless doll and turn it over, clearly contemplating how something like that would be used as a weapon. "It's not right," he whispered. "It's like a little assassin."

"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "A little monster that could kill a Death Eater without risking an auror...well, until he has to destroy the thing."

"Potter," Draco said, "do you think the dark lord would hesitate to use them against us if he knew about them?"

Harry frowned and didn't answer, but he still didn't agree.

Draco's earlier thought about the dark lord not understanding that dark children would hide like animals popped back into mind. Coupled with this new thought that Voldemort didn't know about some of the tools in any dark wizard's arsenal, he decided to risk his master's insults again. "Severus, I've been thinking about something. The dark lord hasn't figured out how to find Pansy yet, and he hasn't used a lot of the magic we know. He only casts Unforgivables. Do you know why?"

Both Severus and Dumbledore shared a look that Draco thought held more than just a meaningful glance. That was the bad thing about legilimens, you could never know when they were talking about you in front of your face. Even more disturbing, though, was that Harry also looked wary. Draco frowned. Did everyone know something that he didn't?

"There is a reason, yes," Dumbledore said slowly, measuring out each word. "Not many people know the dark lord's true origins. Suffice to say, he lost his family early on and so he didn't have any chance to learn his heritage."

"Lost his family?" Draco echoed. "But then...if he wasn't adopted by another family, his dreams should have taught him how the world works. Even if he didn't know what he was, the nightmares would've taught him everything."

"There are many oddities surrounding the dark lord's life," Dumbledore said. "It may be that his environment simply wasn't conducive to magic. His mother died in childbirth and he was brought up in a muggle orphanage."

"Raised by muggles?" Draco said, his voice dripping with disgust. "You mean like--" He almost said "Potter," but one look at Harry's face and he stopped short. Harry's face was drawn up as if in physical pain. And then another thought struck him, even worse than before.

"Wait..." he said. "If he's a dark wizard with no family knowledge, then he's been using dark magic for years without ever cleansing himself?"

Snape nodded once.

"No wonder he's insane," Draco whispered. "How's he even alive?"

"Sheer power, probably," Dumbledore said. "In fact, I have no idea what will happen when he dies. His accumulated magic may fade away, or, with his strength diminished, it may swallow him completely."

It would be nice if it would swallow him now and save them the effort, Draco thought. He went back to the Ravenclaw table and sat down on it again, lost in thought.

They weren't telling him something, he could figure out that much. All three of them knew something important, probably something that they hadn't told anyone else. Certainly not the Ministry. No doubt it had to do with the dark lord's true name. After all, Voldemort couldn't have been born looking like a corpse. He must have been created, or had created himself in that monstrous image.

Severus cleared his throat, catching Draco's attention. "I'll explain it to you later," he promised. "Not soon, but...in time. You won't take it very well, I'm afraid, and I don't need more tantrums than you usually throw."

Draco narrowed his eyes but he didn't snap back. Not with other people present. A master could insult his apprentice freely while the apprentice had to show proper respect at all times when others were around. That was simply one of the privileges of being a master. Still...he sighed and sulked. It wasn't fair.

"You'll have to tell him soon," Dumbledore said to Severus, "now that he's figuring some of it out. After all he's done, we shouldn't--" He broke off suddenly with a startled look on his face. "Oh my...amazing. I thought I'd sense it, but I didn't."

At first no one knew what he meant as he stared at the far door with a surprised look, but then Draco heard it. The sound of dozens of people coming up the stairs that led to the great hall, and the sound of excited young voices mingled with weary older ones. They started soft at first but gradually grew louder until he could no longer contain himself. Heedless of what the others would think, Draco jumped to his feet and ran down the length of the great hall, but he was still several feet away when the doors were pushed wide open, Pansy at the forefront with Crabbe and Goyle flanking.

The edges of their robes were tattered and threadbare, the result of walking long distances through briars and underbrush. Even though their robes were clean, they had the air of scourgify spells rather than soap and water. Almost all of them were pale and most of them had lost weight, which had done Vincent good but everyone else ill.

He scanned their faces quickly just to make sure they were all there, Blaise, Thomas, Gregory, Daphne, Pansy...he crossed the remaining space between them and put his arms around her, tightening his grip when she hugged him back. Her small hands and the sound of her voice made their return feel more real, less like a dream. They'd tease him for this in the coming weeks, he was sure of it, but for now he couldn't hide a grin as his friends piled in close to see him and put a hand on his shoulder in return.

"Draco! Finally--"

"--you'll never guess what happened--"

"--we were chased like rabbits--"

"--had to kill three Death Eaters--"

"--good thing too, their blood hid us for months--"

"--one of 'em was Mrs. Pellinore, remember her? One of Greg's cousins, the one with the hair--"

"--a few of the little ones got hit by a wisprian curse, though--"

Draco could hardly follow all of them, and he didn't try. All that mattered was that they were back, the sound of their voices drowning out all of his worries for the moment. Tomorrow he'd explain what had happened and how things stood with them at Hogwarts, but for now his Slytherins were back where they belonged, at his side.

TBC...

Author's Notes:
1. fyria raebaena -- from old English fyr, fire, and old French riban, ribbon
2. tempestas -- from Latin, tempest
3. wisprian -- from the Old English hwisprian, a whisper