Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Invitation from the Ministry ( Chapter 26 )

Part 26

Snowstorms and paranoia kept the dark wizards trapped within the small castle that Draco only suspected might belong to his family. For the three days, when he wasn't in a potion-induced sleep, he paced the room in which he and all the other injured had been placed. Vincent lay in a bed beside him, and Miriam sat up across from him tending her own burns.

Most of the beds were occupied by children who'd suffered frostbite or stubborn flu from flying here through the night. They were lucky to have arrived. From Millicent who'd been left behind, they learned of Aurors sweeping the Forbidden Forest and interrogating the remaining Slytherins, many of whom had vanished as soon as they could. Every day more arrivals straggled to the castle, finding their way by owled letters in the language of dark children, as the entire British dark community went warren.

Fear could only keep the healthy children inside for so long, however, and when the snow stopped falling and left the ground unblemished white, they poured out for snowball fights. Their laughter made the stone walls a little less oppressive.

Draco wished he could join them, but the rawhead's bite in his shoulder healed slowly despite his mother and masters' best efforts. Without the excitement of a battle raging around him, the wound throbbed when he was still and flared painfully when he moved his arm. On the third day, tired of watching his friends through the window and with his arm cradled in a sling, he left the makeshift hospital and explored the rest of the castle. He steered clear of his father and his Knights in the main hall, instead checking in on the kitchen as a few witches and wizards cooked for an entire community. Elves would have been a help, but no one wanted to risk summoning theirs from homes where Aurors might've been waiting.

Once he had slipped everyone's notice, Draco headed up the narrow, lightless stairs alone. On the second floor there were open windows, no charms to keep out the cold and no torches, so he pulled his cloak a little tighter around himself and kept up a lumos charm so he wouldn't blunder into any cobwebs. Exploring kept his mind off his old home and Hogwarts and Harry, but there was little to explore. The castle was old and in disrepair. Most of the furniture had long since been removed. A few threadbare tapestries hung on the walls, but they were gray and moldy. The upper castle was so bereft of magic that he hadn't found doxy infestations or even one boggle. Nothing but a few bird nests empty for the winter.

At least the view was worth coming up here. A thick black forest surrounded them, the branches coated in ice and covered with a light layer of snow.

"I thought I might find you up here."

Despite the stern tone, Draco smiled and glanced over his shoulder. His mother stood at the top of the stairs bundled up in a gray cloak lined with fur. Since he'd never seen that particular cloak before, he supposed she'd killed and skinned whatever animal it was herself during her time in hiding. Coupled with the long scratch down her cheek, it made her look less like a wizarding world socialite and more like a wild witch lurking in the forest.

"Hoping to find something interesting," he said. "Nothing so far, I'm afraid."

"It must've be terribly boring for you stuck in bed," she replied, coming to meet him halfway down the hall. "But if you're well enough to come up here, perhaps you could help your father."

A tempting offer. Lucius was looking for a new place they could hide, someplace fit for a whole community and more comfortable, someplace where the Aurors would never find them, but so far the search had been fruitless.

"Severus said I'm not fit for any kind of work for another week," he said.

"Severus says a lot of things," she replied.

"All of them perfectly sound."

Draco winced as Severus appeared at the top of the stairs, his robes billowing so that he looked like a demonic bat coming towards them. Narcissa sighed in fond exasperation as she turned.

"You are so cautious," she said, "that if we listened to you all the time we should never do anything at all."

"And we would all be much happier, I think," he said, not reacting to her glare. "If you had listened to me, you would have been comfortable and safe in Paris, not starving here with nothing but elves for company."

"Better company than some," she said. "And I wasn't starving."

"Then once again you weren't listening to me," he said. "Haven't I always said you do not need to diet?"

She sighed again, but there was no anger in her voice. "You strange creature. Even your compliments sound like insults."

"Because you never listen."

"Because you are incomprehensible--"

Draco inwardly groaned. The two of them could go on like this for hours, but if he tried to sneak away, they'd both turn on him. As fast as his wit was, they simply had more experience at biting sarcasm. Rather than be torn to pieces, he resigned himself to a long wait.

"Owl!" someone outside yelled.

Their verbal duel instantly forgotten, Severus and Narcissa moved to the nearest window. Draco looked over his mother's shoulder, ignoring the ache in his shoulder when he moved too fast. Although he knew better, he'd hoped to see Harry's snowy owl every time someone spotted a new messenger in the sky. Once again his heart sank at the owl's dark coloring, but as it flew closer, he thought it looked familiar nonetheless. Dark gray and much larger than a snowy owl, he wasn't sure until he clearly made out its patterned feathers.

"Ilmauzer!" he laughed, holding out his left arm. He hadn't even thought his owl had survived.

Snape said something about it possibly being a trap, but Narcissa's voice drowned him out and Ilmauzer landed easily on Draco's arm. The letter tied to his foot was not one of Millicent's plain missives, but rather a large envelope with two gold seals and an address written in calligraphic script.

Because Draco couldn't use his other hand, Severus took the letter and headed for the stairs. He didn't have to argue with Narcissa over this. The seals were from both Dumbledore and the Ministry. Whatever lay within had to be opened by Lucius.

They found him in the large hall by the fireplace with most of the other Knights, all pouring over maps and one ancient globe. A fire kept out the chill and Lucius claimed the prime spot, seated on the warm stones of the raised hearth. The comfortable seat didn't seem to ease his headache as he deciphered tiny handwriting while everyone bickered around him. Upon seeing his family enter, Lucius sat straight.

"Ilmauzer?" he said. "What did he bring?"

"This." Severus handed over the letter and paper.

Lucius turned the envelope over slowly, examining the seals first and then the script. "To Lucius Malfoy, Commander of the Knights of Walpurgis, and Company."

Now he had everyone's attention. Hesitating only a moment, he broke the seals and drew out a letter on two pages, both edged in gold.

"In the hopes that this letter has the honor of addressing Lucius Malfoy and the Knights of Walpurgis, the Ministry of Magic, in conjunction with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry , extends our deepest apologies for the hostile actions of our Aurors at the conclusion of the Battle of Hogwarts."

His voice dying to a whisper, Lucius blinked in shock. Around him, a few hushed murmurs flitted through the room as they all pushed closer.

"Our Aurors were unaware of the full extent of the dark community's aid in this battle. More importantly, however, their judgment was swayed by the long-standing war between what has recently come to be known as the dark and the light communities. Both Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter have assured us that your community wishes for the war to end, and to live in peace with us. Most of the Hogwarts students themselves have repeated this.

"Recently our society has been forced to examine our past and discover ugly truths that were previously hidden. While we do not believe we will ever truly map the entirety of our history, we begin to see a larger picture than we did before.

"For these and other reasons, not the least of which are young Malfoy's unprecedented overtures of trust and goodwill, it is our greatest desire to offer the olive branch. The war between our two worlds has gone on longer than even we remember. It is time for the war to end before any more blood is spilled."

In a rush, Lucius turned the page and read the next part.

"Because the Ministry will be under reconstruction for some time, we hope that you will do us the honor of joining us at the Diggory estate this coming Saturday at 10:00 a.m. A diplomatic envoy of myself, Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter among a handful of others will receive you. We understand you may have concerns for your security and are willing to work out any reasonable requests.

In Great Hope, signed Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, and Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts."

No one knew what to say. Unprecedented was an understatement. Miraculous, perhaps. If it was true.

"A trap," someone breathed. "It has to be a trap."

"They might've followed the owl--"

Snape's voice cut through the worried murmurs.

"We would have seen anyone following it," he said. "And there are no charms on that letter, either."

"Then they're hoping to lure us in," said the witch who'd first thought of a trap, Pansy's mother Draco recognized. "Lure us into an ambush."

Goyle nodded. "Scrimgeour's hunted us for years. Killed my dad himself."

As others attacked the letter's credibility, Lucius sat down and closed his eyes in thought. Draco watched him for a moment, then looked at the rest of the room. How strange that they were all content to bicker amongst themselves when Lucius would make the decision. Except for Snape and Narcissa, he noted, who simply waited for the head of their family to speak.

After leading his Slytherins for so long, however, Draco was not content to wait. Pausing only to give his owl a chance to adjust its balance, he sat down on the other side of the fire and faced Lucius.

"Father," he said.

Lucius opened his eyes and regarded him.

"Someone has to go."

Draco spoke softly but the bickering stopped. Or rather, it turned on him with stunned retorts of "are you mad?" and "is he insane?" with a few disparaging words to the effects of Snape's potions. Lucius raised his hand to quiet them, then stared at his son for a few seconds.

"Why must someone go?" he asked.

"We can't hide forever. Even the hidden families can be found. We can't fight them without most of us dying anyway. If there's a chance that they're honest, we have to take that chance."

"And if they're lying and they kill whoever we send?" Lucius asked.

Draco closed his eyes. Cut down in a petty ambush after killing Voldemort himself seemed like such a cheap way to die. "Then you've only lost a handful of wizards. The rest of us can try to hide for whatever time we have left."

Behind him, Narcissa made a small noise of protest, but Lucius surprised her with a half-smile.

"Draco, you've been spending too much time with Severus," he said. "You sound as cheerful as he does."

Severus made a not-so-small sound of indignation but he didn't try to argue.

Lucius glanced at the letter again, re-reading it and then staring at the worn and faded globe. The world seemed much more manageable when he could spin it under his hand.

"I will write back with several demands," he finally decided. "Some unreasonable, even for a Malfoy."

A bit of unwilling laughter crept out of his Knights, relieved both that he'd come to a decision and that he had a plan.

"If they agree to everything," he continued, "we will know not to trust them."

"If they don't?" Goyle asked.

"Then we'll be prepared. My cane might be able to portkey us out if things go to hell."

Narcissa refused to look at him. "Who will go?"

For a moment he didn't answer. "Myself, Severus, and Draco."

Without another word, she turned and left the hall. Lucius didn't watch her. He lay the letter on top of the maps and looked up at his Knights.

"Continue searching for suitable places," he ordered. "Consider every country. If you have to move everyone to bloody Shanghai, then do it."

He stood and pulled his shoulders back, stretching out several hours of sitting hunched over.

"Draco, Severus."

Neither needed to be told to follow him. They simply did, walking at his side to Lucius' shared chambers. Severus, however, came to a halt several meters from the door and put his hand on Draco's shoulder to stop him as well. They watched as Lucius knocked on the closed door and waited for Narcissa to invite him in. After a moment, the door opened and he slipped in, leaving the door wide expecting Severus to follow. With a whispered spell, Severus shut the door and leaned against the wall to wait.

"If he thinks I'm going to face that woman angry, he's even more foolish than you are," he said.

"She won't hex him, will she?"

"No--" a muffled curse came from inside, then the noise of a deflected spell-- "but only because he's a better duelist."

The next few curses made him wince, spells that could do real damage if Lucius didn't deflect them, but Draco did his best to ignore them and leaned against the other wall facing his master. "You know why I want to go," he said. "Will you really come with us?"

Severus' expression darkened. "Malfoys aren't just reckless. You must have a damn death wish. Blithely walking into the Ministry--it's like sheep visiting a lion because it invited them for tea."

"If they attack us, then we will know better than to trust them ever again," Draco said. "If they play at negotiating a peace deal but are really just lying, buying themselves time to attack us, we have to know. If they're stalling, we might be able to strike preemptively."

Severus tilted his head. "I thought you said we couldn't hope to fight them."

"I needed father to agree to send me there," Draco said.

"You little snake in the grass," Severus whispered. "Not that Lucius probably hadn't already decided. And now you want to make sure I will agree to go."

"We need you there," Draco said. "You keep us from killing ourselves."

"Don't ever forget it," Severus snapped. "God only knows how your family managed to survive without me."

Draco knew from his dreams. "Not long. But now we're the longest lived dark wizards in history."

"Despite your best efforts."

"Master..."

"Have I ever abandoned this family?" Severus sighed and shut his eyes, rubbing his temple with one finger. "Of course I will go with you."

Relieved to hear it said out loud, Draco smiled.

"I shudder to think of the damage you could do if left to your own devices."

Draco's smile fell and he opened his mouth to complain, but he was cut off by the door slamming open against the wall.

"Severus! Get in here!"

The voice was so shrill that Draco couldn't tell which of his parents had yelled. He stumbled as Ilmauzer opened his wings in startlement, clinging a little tighter to his arm.

"Wait here," Severus said softly. "No doubt your mother will want you close by once she calms down."

Silently watching Severus enter the bedroom, Draco gave a little laugh. In a few days he was going to walk into the lion's den and hope it wouldn't eat him. He wanted his mother when she calmed down, too.

Ilmauzer hooted softly, making Draco smile.

"I don't have any food for you," he said. "But if you go to the kitchen, I'm sure they'll give you something."

He went to the window and let Ilmauzer hop onto the sill. His owl gave him a moment to stroke his feathers before taking flight again, winging around the side of the castle and out of sight. Draco sat on the sill and looked out. The snow outside was pristine, unplayed in, and he put his hand out into the crisp air. The difference in temperature from the charmed warm air of the castle and the winter wind sent delicious shivers through him.

"Harry," he whispered. "I'm coming."

Four days later, he stood at the fireplace by his family's side. His right arm still hurt, albeit less so, and his utilitarian sling had been replaced with fine silk snipped from one of his mother's few remaining dresses. It matched his black robe, the rips and burns and stains carefully mended and cleaned until he looked respectable enough for a formal gathering. His wand lay tucked inside a pocket, and he hoped he wouldn't have to use it. Although they all thought the potential reward was worth risking three Malfoys, Draco didn't want to have to fight for his life ever again.

"I wish we could have gotten you something more elegant," Narcissa said, picking a bit of lint from his high collar. "You look like Severus."

"No one will mistake him with that hair of his," Severus countered.

A black ribbon kept his hair back so that he looked like a strange mix between his father and his master. And his mother, he knew, since he got his slight build from her. Useful as a snake, but annoying as a human.

Beside them, Lucius addressed his Knights, giving them what could be his final orders. Draco didn't want to listen and tuned him out as best he could.

"If you don't hear from us by the end of today," Lucius said, "you will move again. Narcissa knows where to go. Listen to her as you would me. She commands you until I return."

He tugged on a pair of gloves and grasped his cane, taking a deep breath as he stepped in front of the fireplace. Goodbyes had already been said. All that remained was to step through. They all took a handful of floo powder and stared at the twisting flames.

"Be careful," Narcissa said softly.

Lucius nodded once, hesitated another moment, then went forward, calling out "Diggory estate" as he disappeared. Severus followed on his heels and Draco right after, knowing that they stood a better chance in an ambush together than alone.

He stepped into a private library with sunlight from a large window streaming onto a desk covered in loose parchment. He couldn't help comparing it with his father's more impressive library, but that had burned with the house and the memory stung. Since there were no shouted curses or spells, he took it that they were safe for the moment and the meeting would go as planned.

All this occurred to him as he stepped around Severus and stood by his side, but he forgot all of it when he saw Harry standing in front of them, looking a little uncomfortable in formal robes. Draco knew there were other people with Harry but for a moment all he could see was the Gryffindor's smile. He didn't look like he'd lived through a battle. All of his injuries were mended with only faint shadows around his eyes and a lingering pallor to his skin hinting at what he'd endured. He hoped he didn't look too ragged in comparison. Then someone started speaking, and Draco had to at least look like he was paying attention to the world around him.

Rufus Scrimgeour and Dumbledore stood next to Harry, and if the Minister of Magic resembled a lion, the Headmaster looked like a cat who not only eaten a canary, but gone back for some cream. Draco wondered what kind of schemes Dumbledore had manipulated behind the scenes to arrange this meeting. Scrimgeour looked downright nervous.

"Honored guests," Scrimgeour said, his smile painfully polite. "Please let me be the first to extend our thanks to you for your aid in the war against You-Know--ahem, against Voldemort."

"The dark lord's death is a great weight from all our minds," Lucius said.

Draco controlled his flinch, but he couldn't stop himself from straightening a little. He'd gone a long time trying not to call Voldemort the dark lord in front of anyone. To hear it spoken aloud in front of the Minister was a stark reminder of how things had changed.

"Indeed," Scrimgeour said. "Although you already know them, please permit me to introduce them in their official capacities. The Boy Who Lived and Destroyer of Voldemort, Harry Potter. Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. And I, Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour."

"Well known indeed," Lucius said, keeping an eye on Scrimgeour's wand hand. "In our capacities as envoys, then, I am Lord Lucius Malfoy, commander of the Knights of Walpurgis. These are my most trusted attendants, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy."

Scrimgeour inclined his head, also never taking his eyes off of them. "All of you are quite well known. Forgive me for asking this, but are you three all that will be arriving? We had expected more."

Lucius nodded. "We were unsure of your true intentions. The only reason we even risked this much was because you turned down my request to completely lower Apparition wards while we spoke."

"You mean--" Scrimgeour blinked. "That request really was fake?"

"Of course."

Dumbledore chuckled. "This meeting was nearly called off because of it. Certain members of the Ministry swore it was a trap."

The dark wizards made small noises of contempt. Such an open attempt at a trap was almost an insult, nevermind that they'd used it as such. Dumbledore must have noticed their looks because he waved his hand dismissively.

"No harm done, though. Shall we go inside?"

Scrimgeour reached back for the ornate door knob, but paused mid-turn. "Because we expected more of you, I'm afraid we will have a surplus of attendants on our side."

They entered into what used to be a large dining room, lit by tall ceiling to floor windows with blue curtains. Plush blue carpet muffled their steps as they approached their side of the ornately carved table. Draco didn't notice until he was right in front of it that it was round. Yet another relic of Merlin's philosophies.

Fortunately there were not so many people that they would fully wrap around the table. As introductions were again given, Draco took the moment to size them up. Griselda Marchbanks of the Wizengamot faced them as if they were locked in the chair before her court. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks took their places at Dumbledore's side, and Draco felt sure that they're presence was due solely to the headmaster's influence. Kingsley Shacklebolt did his best to seem pleasant and failed miserably. Cornelius Fudge did nothing to hide his irritation. Goading the man would be counterproductive so Draco tried to conceal his satisfaction behind his smile. How the tides of war changed everything. Fudge was here no doubt in some Ministry capacity, but Draco was part of a small diplomatic retinue, far more important than one of many Ministry officials.

A handful of quills and parchment had been set out for anyone's use, as well as several glasses and a communal jug of water. It had to be communal. No one would trust it otherwise.

As Rufus and Lucius spoke, exchanging polite words as if there had never been a war between them, Draco glanced at Harry only to find the Gryffindor already watching him. Although they couldn't speak, Harry put his hand to his throat and tugged the leather cord up from under his robes to show off his honey amulet. Draco smiled and hoped his fair skin wasn't turning pink.

Sitting so close and unable to even speak was torture, but worth it to be able to see Harry and make sure he was all right. As the minutes stretched, he wished he could at least pass a note across the table.

"I'm afraid what you ask is entirely out of the question," Fudge said.

What? Apparently he'd missed something. Draco glared at the man and resisted the urge to look at his father.

"Cornelius--" Griselda started, but he ran right over her.

"This farce is a complete waste of time," he snapped. "We all know we can never come to any agreement. Just listen to these demands. Decriminalize dark magic, permit crossbreeding, restitutions--Merlin, next they'll be wanting to legalize necromancy!"

Lucius somehow kept a straight face when he replied. "I admit that was next on my list."

Fudge grimaced and turned away, his thoughts clearly expressed by Shacklebolt's hiss of disgust. Griselda blanched and did not interrupt again. While Dumbledore sighed and shut his eyes, he did not try to silence anyone.

"Legalize necromancy?" Shacklebolt spat. "You think we're too scared to say no? That we'll just roll over and let you butcher people--"

"Of course not," Severus said, finally speaking. "We were hoping you might permit yourselves to be educated on the matter so you don't continue to rant about something you know nothing about."

"I arrested three Death Eaters in the middle of brewing potions with bodyparts in their cauldrons," Shacklebolt said. "I think I know something about it when I see a little girl's head bobbing around, her eyes boiled out."

"That wasn't necromancy," Severus said.

His voice was a flat contrast to Shacklebolt's yelling, and the Auror paused as he narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean, not necromancy?"

"Necromancy is the theft of a little life, a bit of the soul if you wish," Severus said. "You can perform it without killing anyone or anything. Really, if necromancy was about killing, then all the dead animals we put in potions would certainly qualify."

"Kingsley, Cornelius," Rufus said, his voice stern. "Sit down. That is enough."

He didn't like the man, but Draco was a little impressed at how the two obeyed his command. Rufus was about to say something when the scratching of a quill caught his attention, and he glanced aside to see what Griselda was noting down.

"It seems to me," she said, reviewing her spidery writing once more, "that we cannot meaningfully discuss any plans to integrate our worlds peaceably until we understand more about your practices of dark magic. I suggest we put negotiations on hold and spend at least the next few days reviewing some of your basics, to give us a broader understanding that we can get a handle on, so to speak."

"Perfectly reasonable," Lucius said. "Severus can give you a list of things we will need for proper demonstrations."

"Excellent," Rufus said. "Perhaps it would be best to recess for the day?"

Severus lowered his eyes and Lucius softly lay his fingertips on one of the parchments he'd written on. Draco didn't like their silence and although he tried to match their calm demeanors, inside his stomach began to twist. They were scheming and they hadn't told him what about.

"There is one more thing I think we'd best discuss, at least briefly," Lucius said. "It should be brought up now rather than later."

"And what would that be?" Rufus asked.

Lucius drummed his fingers on the table a few times as he carefully crafted his response. "Dark wizards perform our most lasting and important magic with blood--"

"Merlin," Fudge whispered, "if you're asking for a damn sacrifice--"

"Not at all," Lucius said. "I mean that in matters of negotiations, we do not trust solely in a piece of paper and goodwill. If my community is to believe any agreement we come to, they will need something more substantial. In this case, as we unify two disparate worlds...I believe no less than a marriage will do."

"Marriage?" Nymphadora echoed, speaking for the first time. "Like royalty uniting two nations?"

"It makes sense," Dumbledore said. "Political marriages are common enough in our history. And if I understand their feelings about loyalty and family a little, then this would cement our ties better than anything else we might do."

"I will not see any young witch forced into a marriage against her will," Griselda snapped. "And to who? Will this be one of those arrangements of a child married to a wizard three times her age?"

"As to who," Lucius said, "the dark wizard will be my son."

Draco's stomach tighten into one big knot. He couldn't raise his gaze from the table, let alone meet Harrys' look. No wonder his father had said nothing before. He'd known his son would argue, scream and--

No. Lucius knew his son would do nothing but his duty. Loyalty before everything, especially his own happiness. He slid his hand under the table and clenched the edge of his robes. The same loyalty that would have led his parents to die to protect him also bound him to their will.

"And does he agree to this arrangement?" Griselda asked, her voice soft and disbelieving. "To be put up as a peace offering?"

"If my father wills it," Draco said simply. He felt everyone watching him, felt Harry's hurt without having to look at him. There was nothing else to say.

"As to your half of the arrangement," Lucius continued as if there had been no interruption, sliding the parchment across the table to Scrimgeour. "I have a list of attributes we expect."

"'Attributes'?" Remus said, looking sideways at the list. "Not names?"

"You may think us monsters," Lucius said, "but we value ability and intelligence a little higher than you might think. I will not see my family united to any opportunistic witch who can stomach our magic to get to our fortune."

"Of age," Scrimgeour read, his pace quickening as he grew more dismayed, "at least half-blood, well-regarded, of high character, leader amongst her peers, keen dueling ability, proven bravery, proven ruthlessness, experienced in dark magic, a disregard for the opinion of the Ministry--Merlin, Malfoy, I don't know how you expect to find a young lady to fit your exacting requirements. If the peace of our worlds depends on this match, you've shot down any chance of it."

Severus turned slightly and leaned towards Lucius, whispering something only they could hear. Lucius frowned and whispered back to Severus, clearly arguing, and Severus whispered something else, then added a quick remark that turned Lucius' frown into a snarl. But the snarl was not directed at anyone but Severus, and without a word he took back the parchment, struck out one word and wrote in another. Still fuming at his friend, he thrust it back to Scrimgeour, who read the alteration.

"Leader amongst 'his' peers," Rufus said softly. The whole side of the table straightened as their minds not only recognized the change but immediately came up with a solution.

Everyone looked at Harry, who stared back with wide eyes.

"Me?" Harry looked around for confirmation. He stared first at Dumbledore, then at Draco, who stared back with the same confusion.

"Don't see why it has to be him," Lucius grumbled to Severus, just loud enough for Draco to catch. "Draco would like the same attributes in anyone else. Anyone but him."

"If you can find a Girl Who Lived," Severus whispered back, that infuriating smug look comfortably settling on his face. "Neither of the boys is betrothed, correct?"

"That's not the point, you insufferable--"

"An elegant solution," Dumbledore said with a smile, as if he'd known all along what would happen. "However, I must insist that because this decision is so monumental, especially for young Malfoy and Mr. Potter, that they be given time to think and perhaps get to know each other a little better before they formally agree. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Eminently," Lucius muttered, looking anything but sincere.

"As long as they are chaperoned," Severus said since Lucius was in no state to think about it. "At all times. God only knows what trouble young men can get into these days, especially these two."

"Quite true," Dumbledore said. "Their time at Hogwarts would almost read like a cheap penny-dreadful parchment, all adventure and close calls."

"'Close calls'?" Lucius echoed, glancing at Severus. His frown darkened when Severus would not meet his eye and instead seemed entranced by his sparse notes. "I think I'd like to hear about those."

"Very well," Scrimgeour said, "this meeting officially concludes for the day. Gentlemen, you have a handful of guest rooms to select from if you wish. It seems we worked through lunch, but you'll have access to a handful of kitchen elves whenever you like. If there's anything else?"

Lucius paused and tapped one finger on the table, then nodded. "The Malfoy Gringott's account, is it still frozen?"

"No," Rufus said after a moment, eyeing Cornelius to make sure he wouldn't start complaining again. "Against the will of some in the Ministry, I ordered your assets unfrozen yesterday."

"Thank you. If you could arrange a proxy for us, we can prepare a list of purchases we'll require. I'd rather not set foot in Diagon Alley just yet."

"Understandable," Rufus said. "Remus, if you would be so kind?"

Draco didn't bother listening to the rest of their conversation. He knew he should be happy, but he couldn't feel anything except a whirlwind disbelief. His world kept spinning in all directions and he wasn't sure if it was going to come to a stop anytime soon.

At his father's command, he stood and followed him to what he thought would be their guest rooms. Instead Lucius opened a side door to a small courtyard safely enclosed by the rest of the house. A handful of weeping willows shaded a few benches from the winter sun's glare, and the light snowfall didn't cover the moss and ivy working to claim every corner and surface.

"Your cousin Nymphadora will be along to serve as a chaperone. Do not do anything untoward." Lucius paused. "If you hurt him, I'll set you on fire."

Draco blinked in surprise, but his father's threat had been aimed at Harry who had come up behind them. He steeled himself for Harry's sharp reply, but Harry surprised both of them with nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement. After one more murderous look, Lucius backed away and closed the door.

Now that they were finally alone, Draco couldn't make himself move closer. He knew Harry had to feel some betrayal for how quickly Draco acceded to his father's plan of marriage before knowing who he would wed. He'd seen Harry's disappointed face before, and while he wasn't a hopeless romantic to say that it hurt more than Harry's fist, the sting of it certainly lingered worse.

"Harry...I--"

Two warm hands cupped his face and brought his head up for a kiss.

tbc...