Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ A Little Honesty ( Chapter 18 )

Part 18

When Draco arrived at breakfast early the next morning, he was pleased to see only a handful of students and a couple of teachers awake as well, which meant fewer people staring at him. He also found a tall gray owl waiting for him on the Slytherin table, a rolled newspaper in its talons and a card with his name in swirling script. After giving the owl a small tidbit off his plate, he opened the card, pretending not to notice the look Severus shot him from the teacher's table. In elegant gold script, he read the note.

Dear Draco Malfoy,

Our interview turned out so splendidly that my editors elected to create a special edition with my article as the centerpiece. We are also very much interested in a follow-up interview to fill in the details we did not have time to discuss. Please owl me the dates you are available as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Rita Skeeter

P.S. Since your family's account at Gringott's is not accepting deposits, I have included our standard interview fee within. Please note that any further fees are entirely negotiable.

Fee? He tipped the envelope and breathed in sharply when a hundred galleon promissory note fell into his lap. As good as coin, it wouldn't have made him look twice if he hadn't been living on Severus' good will for the last few months. He stuffed the note into his robe and looked back at the newspaper.

With a deep breath, he unfurled the paper so fast that he ripped the edge, then paused.

For several seconds he stared at the thin, fragile-looking boy in the photograph as he blinked too quickly and leaned on the table as if he would fall over without it. Only looking up occasionally at the viewer as if afraid he might be hit, Draco in the picture rubbed the scars on his right hand as if in constant pain. No wonder Severus had hoped they hadn't taken his picture. Draco wondered if he really looked so lost and noticed with a start that he was rubbing his hand right now. With a grumble, he put his hands on his lap.

Still, Rita's picture made him look less like a dark wizard and more like a frightened child. It stung his pride that this picture would probably be the one that went down in history, but for now it served his purpose well. He hardly looked like a threat.

Of course none of that would matter if she'd made him out as a devious monster in her article. He'd lain awake much of the night worrying about all the ways she could twist what he'd said, all the little slips and incongruities she could pounce on.

Daily Prophet Special Edition

In a dramatic first, the Daily Prophet's very own Rita Skeeter sat down with Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts yesterday for an historic interview. For the first time ever, the silence about dark wizardry has been broken. This Daily Prophet Special Edition features her interview, along with informative articles about dark magic and the history of how the two societies evolved side by side.

Rita Skeeter's Interview With Draco Malfoy, Dark Wizard

I found the young Malfoy fighting obvious fatigue after long months of facing hostility at every turn. Trembling from exhaustion and fear, he met me in the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Wizardry nursing an injury to his right hand, a souvenir from recent attempts on his life. After confirming the rumor that he is indeed a dark wizard, we began the interview, which ranged from his troubles at Hogwarts, his daring escape from You-Know-Who, and even touched upon history from a dark point of view.

As he read the article, a light-headed feeling of disbelief began to wash over him and he scanned the paragraphs faster and faster, certain that the tone would eventually turn against him. That Rita would say that none of what he said could exonerate dark wizards. That perhaps he was a misfit who'd slowly been converted away from the dark by his time with normal wizards. Or that the entire article was a plot to gain the wizarding world's trust.

"...severely injured after facing You-Know-Who, Malfoy flew through the blizzard to Hogwarts, where he aids Dumbledore's cause by brewing potions for the war effort. The war, as readers know, is not yet recognized by the Ministry..."

"...while hiding from both You-Know-Who and those in society who would harm him, he has developed an unlikely friendship with another young wizard who suffered hostility and malicious gossip, none other than Harry Potter..."

"...ambushed by several students in Hogwart's dungeons, Potter and Malfoy defended each other as spells flew around them. While rumors have circulated that Malfoy cast dark curses upon unsuspecting children, the truth remains that his spells were cast in self-defense..."

"...in an ironic twist, however, Malfoy told me that while we 'light' wizards are afraid of dark wizards, dark wizards are terrified of us..."

"...of course everyone knows about Wendolyn the Weird, but the dark wizarding world's history portrays her in a much more malicious light, accusing her of seeking out multiple arrests not because she enjoyed the sensation of the flames but in an effort to point muggle authorities to hiding dark wizards in the hopes that they would be arrested and burned or hanged without their wands..."

After several pages, the article ended. The rest of the special edition included a Test Your Knowledge of History quiz and filler material about Camelot and Morgan, but he felt a little rush when he saw the note about how so much had now been thrown into question and needed re-evaluation and study. The complete interview without embellishment lay in the back "for archival purposes" as explained by an editor's note, and as he read over it, he breathed a sigh of relief that none of the slips he'd made had found their way into the full text.

Rita Skeeter depended too much on her special quill, he thought. It made her vulnerable to slip-ups when she didn't use one. Lucky for him, and he almost laughed to have some good luck for a change.

He looked up at the teacher's table to gauge his master's reaction and nearly dropped the paper. Severus sat still with a copy in hand, staring at it with an expression that Draco had never seen before. Anyone else would have thought nothing was different about their potions master reading the paper, but the subtle widening of his eyes and tight grip creasing the page told him that Snape was truly surprised. More than surprised. Awed. But then McGonagall leaned over to ask him something and his customary disdain reasserted itself.

Draco pushed his barely touched breakfast away, too excited to eat. He rolled the paper up as he headed out, avoiding the students coming into the great hall. Enough of them had subscriptions to the Daily Prophet that he knew the interview would quickly become the topic of gossip. He didn't return to the dungeons, though. Stopping just out of sight around a corner, he leaned against the wall and opened the newspaper, reading Rita's article again as laughter started to bubble out of him.

Success. After the ambush in the dungeons, the dragon attack, the blizzard, losing his family and transforming into his half-blood shape, he'd felt like he was running as hard as he could just to stay in one place. Now he felt as if he'd finally gained a step. Of course it remained to be seen if parents would take their students out in droves, but if they did, that was no longer for his lack of trying.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy, there you are!"

Draco turned and spotted Dumbledore coming towards him, a newspaper under one arm.

"I gather you've already read today's Prophet?" Dumbledore smiled as he stopped. "Well done, I have to say."

"Thank you, sir." Draco knew the headmaster never came to see him unless he wanted something, so he tried to keep his voice cool. He found that he couldn't entirely squash his exhilaration, though, and struggled to bring his laughter under control. A sudden thought of how his father might react to his son outing the family to the wizarding world did the trick and his smile faded. "I just hope it worked."

"Indeed. I have already received several owls from parents willing to give you a chance, provided I keep a constant eye on you, of course. I'm afraid I must warn you not to return to the great hall for a few hours, as you left just before several owls could deliver their howlers to you. Still, it is progress."

"True, they're not beating down the doors," Draco said dryly. "Yet."

"Hopefully never," Dumbledore said. "I am also impressed that you managed to convince Rita to go against the Ministry and call this a war. Of course I doubt that will win you any more friends in the Ministry."

"If it makes Fudge and Scrimgeour squirm, so much the better." Draco tilted his head as he noticed something else Dumbledore was carrying. It looked like a list of classes. "Um, did you need to see me for something?"

His voice trailed off as he heard footsteps coming up behind him, but he sighed in relief when he saw Severus coming to stand next to him. No doubt if Draco felt nervous being alone with the headmaster, then Snape felt even more anxious. Draco had just broken centuries of silence. With Dumbledore egging him on, who knew what a reckless Malfoy might do next?

"Ah yes, almost forgot," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Snape mentioned that you were returning to class, and a few of the teachers have asked if you would be willing to demonstrate for the students certain dark spells they might encounter in a fight."

Draco's eyes widened. Telling everyone he was dark was one thing, but casting dark spells? In front of children? Severus beat him to the question.

"Headmaster," Snape started, "he just told the entire world that he's no threat. Don't you think flaunting dark magic might be pushing it?"

"Not if it is at the teacher's behest," Dumbledore said. "And we are in need of real demonstrations. As you continue to tell me, we cannot rely on our enemies relying solely on unforgivable curses. In fact, if you were to do this, it would further prove that you are not dangerous to the school but rather a vital ally in our war."

A vital tool more like, Draco thought. "I suppose... But I reserve the right to stop for any reason. These aren't parlor tricks."

"Don't demonstrate any necromancy, either," Snape told him, then paused. "Unless Potter volunteers, of course."

Draco glared sideways at him but didn't reply. "I do have one condition, though. I don't want any of the other Slytherins asked to demonstrate dark magic."

"Completely understandable," Dumbledore said. "We don't want to cast any more suspicion than has already fallen upon them. And while we're on the topic, since the Slytherins will be attending their own lessons, I meant to ask if you would feel more comfortable with a companion while you go from class to class. I'm sure Harry would be willing to accompany you, unless you'd prefer someone of your own house."

"I think another Slytherin might be best," Snape said.

"Potter will be fine," Draco said and refused to meet Severus' look. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"No, but then I didn't expect a pair of dragons to run through my school, either. When you first arrived, I rearranged a few students I knew I could trust to each of your classes. Since you'll be visiting several different classes, however, that won't work, but the two of you have proven yourselves to be quite formidable together." Dumbledore handed over the list of classes. "The teachers will all be expecting you. If you have any problems, don't hesitate to come talk to me."

With that, Dumbledore turned and left, leaving Draco concentrating hard on the list so he wouldn't have to look up at his master. Half of occlumency was simply avoiding eye contact with the other wizard. And the list itself was interesting. A few teachers wanted to see how a glamour worked, a couple wanted to know about the language of dark magic. Most wanted a demonstration of dark curses.

"I'll have to gather a few more acorns," he mused.

"Draco, look at me."

Wincing but unable to disobey, Draco raised his head and met his master's eyes. When he felt the familiar prickling of Snape's legilimency, however, he instinctively resisted, using the same techniques his master had taught him.

"When I taught you occlumency," Severus said softly, "I didn't intend for you to use it against me."

"I'm sorry," Draco said, looking down again. "But there's some things I don't want to talk about."

"Oh? And those things involve Potter?" Snape cut him off before he say anything. "Don't bother trying to deny it. You Malfoys never learned discretion. Your infatuation is plain to anyone who knows you."

"I'm not infatuated--"

"I don't care what lies you tell yourself," Snape said, "but don't you dare lie to me. And don't think that just because you've survived revealing yourself so far that you're out of danger. They might tolerate you while you pretend to be safe, but if you try anything more serious than friendship with their savior, you'll discover where that tolerance runs out."

When Draco refused to answer, Snape drew closer, looming over him. "And you remember this: you are dark. He is not. Even if such an alliance were allowed, do you think Potter would stand being so close to the dark? He's just like his father and all the rest of them, and there's a reason you didn't tell Skeeter about our necromancy, our blood sacrifices. They hate us and that will never change."

Turning to leave, Snape paused and glanced over his shoulder. "You're focused entirely on winning this war, but you'd better start thinking about what will happen afterwards. They need us now. What do you think they will do when the dark lord is dead?"

As Snape's footsteps disappeared back into the school, Draco leaned back against the wall. What indeed? If Voldemort won this war, then they were all dead. But if Voldemort died and all his Death Eaters were rounded up into Azkaban and all their hopes came true, then what? What use would the world have for a dark wizard? A novelty? An accepted member of society? A dangerous mongrel that needed to be put down now that the enemy was dead?

Of course Harry would stand between him and the world, just as surely as he stood between him and the students now. Draco frowned. Maybe. What about when everyone turned against Potter, even his friends? And would the dark wizards accept Potter as his friend? What about himself? His blood ran cold at the thought of being outcast from his own kind, but after everything he'd done, he knew that was a real possibility.

Drawing his hood low, he walked back into the main hall and dropped the newspaper inside the nearest trash bin as he headed for the door. Harry had exhausted all of his acorns before on his lessons and no doubt the mudblood hadn't stopped practicing, no matter what her blood traitor boyfriend said. If they didn't want him to hex the students, then he needed targets.

A light snowfall greeted him as he walked outside and headed to the forest's edge. Very few students lingered on the grounds. The air was cold as real winter pushed in and he shivered, pulling his cloak tight as he scanned the ground. As he knelt to pick up his first acorn, however, he closed his eyes and cursed himself. He'd forgotten to bring a jar.

Footsteps crunched in the thin layer of snow behind him, and he turned, not surprised to see Harry walking towards him. Harry stopped at his side with a smile.

"Saw you heading out here," he said. "Gathering acorns?"

"Mm-hmm. Dumbledore wants me to show off a bit for his classes."

"Yeah, he told me this morning. He said he wants me to escort you from class to class, just in case anyone tries anything."

"My hero," Draco said dryly. "I guess you can start by escorting me back inside. I forgot to bring a jar to carry them all in and there's no way I'm carrying them all in my cloak."

"Well, I've got a small bag you can use," Harry said, reaching into the pocket of his muggle jeans. "I had my snap cards in here but they all exploded."

Draco took it and opened it up. "I think I can make do."

After a quick engorgio charm, he knelt again and began gathering up acorns. Harry knelt next to him and helped, and between them they filled the bag quickly. Draco tied it off and stuck it in a pocket, but made no move back to the castle.

"You all right?" Harry asked.

"Just a little nervous." Draco brushed a stray wisp of hair from his face, then startled slightly when Harry reached out and pushed his hood back.

"You've let your hair get long," Harry said softly. "Makes you look a little like your father."

"I haven't had a chance to get it done," Draco said, lowering his eyes. "Rather annoying, really."

"I think I like it." Leaning closer, Harry cupped Draco's face and held him still for a kiss. When he met no resistance, he put his arm around him and tugged him against his body.

To hell with Severus and his paranoid caution, Draco thought. He'd worry about the consequences later. For now, he had the Boy Who Lived.

He found himself pushed against a tree with Harry's hands on his shoulders, holding him still before pushing his cloak off his shoulders. A little clumsy, Harry fumbled at the two clasps holding Draco's collar shut, finally unsnapping them and pulling his robe open a few inches.

"Why'd you get such tight robes?" Harry whispered as he kissed along Draco's exposed throat. "You never wore them before."

"Had to let Severus buy them for me," Draco said. He leaned his head back against the tree and stared at the sky, letting Harry do whatever he liked. The snow through the bare branches looked like falling stars.

"They look good on you," Harry murmured as he undid two more clasps at the side, finally opening the front of Draco's robe. "Form-fitting."

"If I tell Severus that, he'll get me nothing but loose robes." And possibly obliviate my memory, Draco thought.

"Tell him, then," Harry said. "Loose robes come off easier."

Draco shivered as the breeze touched his bare skin. Harry's hands and lips felt like fire.

"You're almost as white as the snow," Harry said. "Is that from being half-wyvern?"

Draco almost laughed. Even now Harry couldn't stop asking questions. "I don't know. Never asked." He yelped as Harry's fingers hooked into his boxers and instinctively grabbed his hand, holding him still.

Before Harry could say anything, the bell rang, summoning students to class. Not sure if he was relieved or disappointed, Draco quickly did up his robe clasps and arranged his cloak over his shoulders again. Patting his pocket to make sure the acorns were still there, he took a deep breath to steady himself before standing straight.

"Come on," he said with a slight tremor in his voice. "We'd better get going."

"Draco, are you okay?" Harry put a hand on his shoulder before he could walk away.

"I-I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Draco, I didn't mean to--I mean, if you didn't want to--"

"It's not that," Draco said. He breathed out again and turned to face Harry. "Believe me, it's not that. Although I think next time I'd rather do this somewhere warmer."

Harry didn't seem too relieved and Draco sighed. "I'll explain on the way."

While they crossed the grounds, Draco considered how to best explain to Harry. Drawing on Theo's example, he decided to just blunder into the subject.

"Have you ever slept with anyone?"

A little to his relief, Harry turned faintly red. His lion was simply eager, not a sex starved maniac.

"A couple times. You?"

"Never."

Harry's eyes widened. "Never? But..."

"But what?"

"I've heard you're rampant. That you've had girls from every house."

"Well, then that's definitely not true," Draco said with a smile. "I've never fancied girls."

"But then why would they say that?"

"Wishful thinking, maybe," Draco said. "Perhaps hoping a reputation for sleeping around will convince me to do it for real. Or there could be someone who's gotten some of my hair and is seducing girls while under the effects of a polyjuice potion. Since there haven't been any pregnant girls demanding a marriage or stipend for my bastard child, however, I doubt it."

"So you've never slept with anyone?"

"Harry, did the mu--did Granger ever talk about dark families while she was researching us?"

"Nice save," Harry said slowly. Draco winced and looked away, but Harry didn't pursue his slip. "To answer your question, no. She complained that she couldn't find a lot of information, though."

"Ravenclaws can be damned annoying when it comes to libraries," Draco said. "Harry, dark families are...well, you've heard me talk about it. Loyalty to family, our loyalties to Morgan and Mordred because they were considered family."

"You said loyalty is everything," Harry nodded.

"And it can't be taken lightly. Our friendships are usually impossible to sever, and..." He stopped and looked up at Harry. "Our relationships are forever. To sleep with someone before marriage is...well. Frowned upon, to say the least."

"So dark wizards never have sex until they get married?" Harry asked.

"At least not with other wizards. Now you see why those night rides are so important to us," Draco said, unable to stop a small smile. "It wasn't so strict before. Dropping into the local village at night and sporting with muggles was fine while we were in power, but when they started turning against us, when your kind turned against us, we couldn't do that nearly so much."

"So," Harry breathed, rubbing the back of his neck. "M-marriage."

Draco laughed out loud. "Relax, Potter, I'm not putting a chain around your neck yet. I just wanted you to know why I tensed up a little. I'm not supposed to do things like that 'till marriage."

"Oh, right." Harry glanced sideways at him. "If loyalty's so important, how do dark wizards get divorced?"

"We don't divorce, Harry. We widow."

When Harry's eyes got wide, Draco realized how that sounded. "No no, not like that. I didn't mean it to sound like that. Well, not usually anyway. I just meant we don't live very long. I don't think I've ever heard of someone having a second spouse."

By now, they were inside and the halls had emptied of most of their students. Draco took out the list of classes Dumbledore had given him and read the first one. "McGonagall, charms for seventh years."

"Really?" Harry said, looking over his shoulder. "That's my class right now. What does she want you to do?"

"Show you what a glamour looks like, I think."

As they walked through the school and took the stairs up, Draco found himself walking closer to Harry. Each time they passed a classroom, everyone inside turned to watch them go by. After passing a few rooms, he drew his hood low so he wouldn't have to see them. He kept alert for any signs of danger but when raised voices suddenly erupted from a corner near them, he bumped hard into Harry as he shied away.

They were close to the tower, Draco realized, because two parents were standing over a first year student with luggage while berating Dumbledore for knowingly harboring a dangerous dark wizard amongst children. The headmaster took their complaints in stride, but the hatred and anger in their eyes made Draco's heart race. They sounded so familiar, as if his dreams echoed around him, and he stopped in middle of the hall, unable to make himself move forward. But he didn't have to. Harry's arm came around him and held him close as he guided Draco past the parents and down the hall.

"Who was that?" Draco heard the father say. "You allow children to walk around out of class while there's a dark wizard in your dungeons?"

"Ah, no," Dumbledore said, his voice fading as they hurried away. "That child was the dangerous dark wizard..."

Draco didn't hear the rest, though he found himself curious as to what Dumbledore would say.

"You all right?" Harry asked.

Nodding, Draco straightened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Don't feel sorry," Harry said, and Draco spotted him putting his wand away. "That's what I'm here for."

Arriving just before the bell, they reached McGonagall's class without further incident. As they stood at the door, everyone, even the teacher, gave Harry a quick look over as if they might find a mark or tattoo or some kind of evidence that he was under Draco's control. Forcing a smile onto her face, she motioned them inside and faced the class.

"We've been talking about glamours and how to dispel them," she told the class of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. "But we've only had the theory, never any practical examples. As you know from your defense classes, especially in your fifth year, theoretical knowledge is no substitute for practical experience. As such, Mister Malfoy has been kind enough to agree to cast a glamour for us. Mister Malfoy, if you need anything for your spell...?"

Draco shook his head. "Glamours are fairly simple, but unless you have a mirror, I think I'd better have a volunteer."

She stiffened but didn't argue. "If someone would be good enough to come up front?" she asked the class.

For a moment, no one moved, too stunned to be asked to participate in the dark arts. Draco almost laughed at the wide eyes as they glanced at each other and then at McGonagall, terrified she might call on them. And then one hand shot up into the air.

"Hermione!" Ron hissed.

"Shut up, Ron," she hissed back. From the sound of it, they'd been arguing even since Ron found out about her lessons. "I want to see this up close."

"But it's dark magic," he said despairingly as she stood and walked forward. "Hermione, don't! It's Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Weasley, even if I was evil, you think I'd try something in front of all of you? I'm dark, not suicidal."

"Or brave enough," someone muttered in the back.

Not in the mood to argue the similarities between bravery and stupidity, Draco pulled out two chairs and spun them to face each other to give the class a side view. "Have a seat," he said. "This is best done sitting."

"Does it take a long time?" she asked, sitting in front of him.

"No, but a steady hand makes the illusion more real." He stared at her face wondering how he would change her looks. Make her hideous, perhaps? No, Harry was standing behind him watching. He sighed and raised his wand.

"Will I look very different?" she asked.

"The best lies are just subtle twists of the truth," he said. "Now hold still."

Whispering the word "gramaire," he traced his wand over his face, leaving a soft glow on her face that faded into his skin. Then with soft flicks of the wand, he raised her cheekbones, made her eyes a little larger and changed their color to blue, then lengthened and straightened her hair before making her a blonde. A tremor in his right hand accidentally made her nose crooked, but another sweep of his wand fixed it. After one final touch to lighten her skin another shade, he sighed and leaned back.

"There. Finished."

Amidst the murmurs of her classmates, Hermione stood up and took the compact mirror Lavender offered her from the front row. She breathed in slightly and touched her face.

"Does it hurt?" Parvati asked.

"I don't even feel it," Hermione said. She turned back to Draco. "Could a glamour make me look like someone else?"

"If you mean like polyjuice, no," he said. "Dark wizards can brew potions just as well as you. Glamours aren't suited for pretending to be someone specific. All they do is make you look just different enough so that no one will know it's you."

"So it's like a mask," Hermione said.

He nodded. "Glamours can cover your entire body, make you look taller or shorter. It depends on how much magic you're willing to use. Some witches use them so often they forget what they really look like."

From the opposite side of the classroom, McGonagall looked ill at ease watching dark spells cast on one of her students. "I've heard that glamours can be addictive if used too often," she said, "and that some witches lose everything they own trying to keep the spell up."

"Only because they let vanity get the better of them." Draco nodded once at Hermione. "A glamour like that can cost a hundred galleons and it'll wear off in a week."

Hermione's eyes widened in fright. "I don't have to wait a week, do I?"

Draco shook his head. "No. It's just an illusion. It comes right off."

"Why does it cost a hundred galleons?" Seamus asked. "It only took you a couple minutes."

"Dark magic takes a lot of power," Draco said. "But usually the buyer has very specific demands. It can take awhile to get the face just right."

Hesitating for a moment, Hermione glanced at the class before carefully considering her words. "Dark magic takes more power because it changes something's basic nature, right?"

Draco looked at her sharply. He'd told her that himself weeks ago. She wouldn't forget one of his lessons so easily. "Yes, like humans turning into werewolves. Why?"

"If a glamour is just an illusion, why does it take so much power?"

A good question, he grudgingly admitted, but he didn't say so. "Because I did change something about your nature. I didn't alter your face, I altered how your face looks. I changed how the air and light twist around you."

"Oh," she said in sudden understanding. "Like water bending light."

"Exactly. Ready to take it off?"

Without waiting, he cast a deletrius spell. The glamour rose off of Hermione's face like smoke, curling away into the air.

"You see? No special counter-spell. You can get rid of it easily."

For a moment no one said anything and Draco was about to leave the class to rest. He hadn't slept well and he had a lot more spells to cast today.

"I don't get it," Seamus suddenly said. "Why bother with a glamour if it's so easy to get rid of?"

Draco blinked. Wasn't it obvious? "You must have studied some instances of when glamours were used?" He looked at McGonagall for confirmation and she nodded.

"We discussed the most recent instance," she said. "When two known Death Eaters slipped into the Ministry and assassinated several officials."

"But they got caught," Seamus said. "So why use a glamour when they could've used polyjuice potion?"

"What were their names?" Draco asked softly.

No one replied.

"That was weeks ago," McGonagall said. "I'm afraid I don't remember."

"Wait a minute." Hermione went to her seat and pulled a muggle notebook out of her bag, flipping through several pages before stopping somewhere in the middle. "I've been keeping notes. It was Helia Sarracenia and Betula Carriway."

He recognized their names from his mother's dealings with Voldemort. She kept her batches of poisons carefully labeled so that she never mixed them up, terrified of what the dark lord would do if she gave someone a wrong potion. Draco leaned back against McGonagall's desk and stared at the floor.

"Polyjuice is good for impersonating someone," he said. "But glamours aren't meant to impersonate someone. They're meant to hide your real features like a mask, to mingle unnoticed in a crowd. They're useless in a duel, but if you use them right, you won't need to duel."

"Because you'll be so close to your target," Harry reasoned, finally speaking for the first time, "that he won't have time to draw his wand."

Draco nodded once. "Those witches were new converts to the dark, completely inexperienced. And yet well cast glamours got them into the Ministry and let them kill a few officials. I guarantee a practiced dark wizard could use a glamour even more effectively."

After a few moments when it became clear that if the class had any questions, they'd rather hear them from McGonagall, Draco left with Harry at his side. The rest of the classes he visited were even more awkward since he had to cast several curses at targets he created in the front of each room. Even Harry, who'd seen and practiced them before, shuddered each time he saw a man-shaped target burst into flames after the section representing its heart exploded.

The last class involved a demonstration of risana spells on several of Professor Sprout's rowan bushes and mandrakes, making them sprout from seeds into mature plants in a few seconds. By the time the final bell rang, Draco was breathing hard and wondering if she'd requested a demonstration just to hurry her plants along. While the students scurried out of class, uncomfortable staying inside with a dark wizard, Draco leaned on a flowerpot as tall as he was to catch his breath.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

"I've never cast so many spells in one day," Draco said. He didn't move as Harry put a hand on his forehead.

"You're really warm," Harry said. "Do you want to see Pomfrey?"

Put himself at her mercy? Draco snorted. "No, I'll be fine. Just help me get down to Slytherin. I need to take a shower."

Since the greenhouses lay some distance from the castle, they walked into the constant snowfall and followed the path the other students had already trudged. The brisk winter air played havoc with Draco's hair so he pulled his hood up, wrapping his cloak around himself a little tighter.

"If it's too much," Harry said apologetically, as if he felt somewhat to blame, "you could ask to do only a couple of classes a day."

"No," Draco shook his head. "I'll get Theo to let me skip practice tonight so I can sleep. Tomorrow I should be fine."

Harry didn't look convinced. "You've looked exhausted for months. I don't think one night is going to make it all better."

A brief memory of his photograph in the Prophet flashed into his mind. "Do I really look that bad?" Draco asked.

"You look like you're going to fall over," Harry said.

Draco sighed. He felt like it, too. "I thought it would be easier when my Slytherins got here," he whispered. "Instead it's gotten harder. God, if I'd known all this would happen when I burned the manor down, I would've flown to France."

"It may be hard," Harry said. "But you've done a lot of good. You're helping destroy Voldemort. You're bridging the gap between the light and dark. And, well, I'm glad you didn't fly to France. Very glad, really."

The sincerity in Harry's voice made Draco want to scream. Why had he ever thought that making that amulet was a good idea? Harry wasn't a poppet to be controlled. Every day the urge to smash the glass became stronger, but fear of what might happen if he did stayed his hand.

"Why?" Draco stopped and turned to face him. "Why me? I'm dark."

"I know," Harry laughed. "Everyone keeps telling me that as if I've forgotten."

"Harry, I'm serious," Draco whined. He nearly even stomped his foot but stopped himself. "You may be different from the others, but just a few months ago you were calling me an evil dark wizard that didn't care about anything. You can't just stand there and pretend this was easy for you."

"Malfoy..." Harry sighed. "I admit, I sat up some nights wondering why on earth I love you, but that had nothing to do with you being dark and everything to do with you being a spiteful, bigoted little monster sometimes."

Draco scowled. "If I'm so bloody awful, why'd you fall in love with me, then?"

"I don't really know why. I can't point at some reason or moment. When I was with you in the showers...I just knew." He touched Draco's hair again, swirling it around his fingers. "I spent time with you. And you're not the cocky bastard you try to make everyone believe you are. You're self-conscious, you're hopeful, you're even brave when you let yourself be."

"There's no such thing as a brave Malfoy."

Harry bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I think there is."

Draco didn't know whether to smile or cry.

TBC...

Author Notes:

1. gramaire -- old french gramaire, grammar, from when words were more cleanly linked to magic

2. If this was a three act play, we've just finished the Act Two. Possibly Act Three, scene one. Around five more chapters to go.