Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Masks of Real Heroes	By : Aelys_Althea Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 17641 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Many thanks to the wonderful J. K. Rowling who offered such a beautiful world for amateurs such as myself to frolick in. This is a not-for-profit fanfiction and all characters and original storylines of Harry Potter belong to her!

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
A/N: A little bit of canon divergence in regards to Voldemort's orders for Draco. Sorry if this offends anyone.

Chapter 16: The Changing and the Unchanged
The moment Draco walked through the door in the Great Hall, Severus was on his feet and marching through the staff passage to the headmasters office. Dumbledore had mentioned the Malfoy's meeting, and though he hadn't expected an invitation, he could at least hope to catch the tail end of the discussion of Lucius and Narcissa were still in the old man's clutches.
He was, after all, involved. Even if his relationship with the Malfoys had taken a turn for the worst since the Dark Lord's return, Narcissa had still requested his assistance. That had to could for something.
Muttering the password to the condescending griffin statue, Severus ascended the stairs two at a time and entered the room barely a moment after knocking. Dumbledore didn't seem surprised at his appearance, barely sparing him a glance. The Malfoys each turned at the interruption, however, and Severus could have sworn both pairs of eyes could have frozen fire for their chill.
"Ah, Severus, how kind of you to join us."
"I didn't realise he had been invited." Narcissa's cool tone was clipped, unfriendly, and bordering on aggressive.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Not specifically, no, but I believe his presence would be advantageous for the ensuring conversation." With a gesture of his hand, the headmaster directed Severus to one of the rickety wooden seats lined before his desk. Severus inclined his head and stepped forward, but transfigured the chair into a far more suitable oaken-backed ladder style, far sturdier than the alternatively dubious option. He thought he saw Lucius' jaw tighten from the corner of his eye but didn't turn to confirm his suspicions.
"Tea, Severus?" The elderly wizard raised a cup in one hand, saucer in the other and gestured questioningly.
Refraining from rolling his eyes, Severus shook his head. Ever the pleasantries. He always delays that which is important with idle chatter. He lowered his eyelids, fixing a stare on the headmaster as he shrugged, raised the cup in his hand and –
His hand!
Severus was unable to keep his eyes from widening, even aware as he was of his audience. "Your…"
Dumbledore flickered his eyes towards him, raising one bushy white brow in query. "Yes, Severus?"
From the twinkle in the man's eye, Severus knew he was entirely aware of the focus of Severus' attention. Yet he was too stunned to be irritated by it. "Your hand…"
"Yes, quite remarkable, is it not?" Twisting the white hand, wriggling wrinkled digits, the headmaster admired his appendage as though it were a piece of art. "Just the topic of conversation, in fact."
"How...?" It should not have been possible.
"Harry Potter. He seems to have developed a knack for ridding dark taints from hapless victims."
Severus narrowed his eyes. Potter? The quite, strange boy – well, quite most of the time – who seemed so erratic in his magical ability that he was almost a danger to work around? He removed the curse? "Explain, if you would."
There was an almost imperceptible sound of protest from the Malfoy's – Severus wasn't sure which – but Dumbledore spared them an unreadable glance that quelled any further protest. Settling his teacup precisely in the ring of the saucer, he spoke. "During the ceremony of the Single Vow of Mutualism between myself and Draco Malfoy, Harry acted as our Conduit. I believe that the physical contact may have triggered a natural repellant response from his own magic, and, perhaps against his will and better judgment, he proceeded to extricate and exterminate the taint that has infected my left arm for more than half a year." The old man paused, raising the teacup to his lips once more as though he had simply commenting on any changes to the curriculum for the coming new year.
Severus' mouth threatened to pop open. Too many facts were crying for attention from the brief explanation and he had to blink rapidly to restore a semblance of order to his muddled thoughts. A Single Vow of Mutualism? Natural repulsion? He exterminated it? The effects of such a powerful dark object…
He wasn't the only one left speechless from the explanation – though perhaps for different reasons – but the Malfoy's recovered faster than he. Narcissa hissed between her teeth in a way Severus was familiar with and very happy to not be the focus of. "You speak of such things to him?"
Dumbledore nodded, eyes on his tea and a small smile quirking his lips. "Of course. I have utmost faith in him."
Severus suspected Lucius would be hissing now too if his rigidity and composure permitted as much. His words were clipped and icily cold. "He is a Death Eater. You have sentenced our son to his death."
Turning his head slowly, Severus raised a thin eyebrow at the blonde man. He was met with a gaze so chilling that had he not been subject to the dissatisfaction of greater men he would have shriveled in fear. "My being a Death Eater ensures that? Not simply the involvement of your son within such circles."
"Do not play the fool with me, Severus. You are aware of the circumstances. More than aware, given your own vows committed for Draco's sake. And anything ignorance you may have had the headmaster has ensure is now remedied." Lucius' frozen gaze shifted to Dumbledore, who only blew softly on his tea in response.
"That is hardly a concern, Lucius." Severus clicked his tongue in exasperation. "Surely you would have realised the reality of the situation by now?'
Twin pairs of Malfoy eyes turned upon his once more. Yes, if he had been a weaker man… It was like being trapped in the eyes of weaving snakes. Narcissa raised a perfect eyebrow. "Oh? Pray tell, what situation would that be?"
"Please, allow me, Mrs. Malfoy." Settling his cup once more, Dumbledore folded his hands before him. "Unless you have any objections, Severus?"
"Would you consider them had I any?"
Dumbledore only smiled benignly in response, shifting his attention back to the Malfoys. "Severus has been my double agent for nigh on fifteen years. He has infiltrated Voldemort's ranks and kept me informed of developments, even embedding certain catalysts into Death Eater midst to ensure that the plans of those of the Light can be conducted to their optimal efficiency."
"A double agent." Lucius face indicated the term held the same flavour as a rotten lemon. "You expect us to believe such, that Severus," he pointed the base of his cane abruptly towards Severus redundantly , who resolutely ignored the jab, "has been double-crossing the Dark Lord since his first vanquishing?" The blonde man's eyes turned towards Severus, narrowing coldly. "You expect us to believe such a story?"
"I expect you to believe the truth." Dumbledore locked eyes with Severus, who nodded in allowance of the request. "Severus was the one who informed me of the task your son was granted at the beginning of the school year. He has kept me informed of developments on the subject."
Narcissa's gasp was almost a choke, her face visibly paled. "Severus… you betrayed my son? But, the Unbreakable Vow –"
"Never specified my silence on the matter, Narcissa."
"You betrayed him…"
Scowling, Severus fixed the woman with a pointed stare. He had always been fond of Narcissa, of her strength, but she was blind when it came to her son. "I betrayed nothing. Do you truly believe I would jeopardise Draco's safety?"
"For your own life? To protect your own skin? I have my suspicions." The woman sounded venomous, shaking her head not in dissent but self-reprimand. "I should never have trusted you."
That, if nothing else, caused Severus to struggle to contain a flinch.
Dumbledore apparently decided that Severus had been left to the wolves for long enough. "Mrs. Malfoy, I understand your concern. It has been a trying day for you, to be sure, and you are likely wearied by travel. However, know that Severus had your son's safety as a priority. Every instance he informed me of developments in Voldemort's plans, Draco arose as a topic of consideration."
Severus cringed at that. He's making me sound like a guardian angel. Still, it seemed to calm Narcissa some. A hint of colour returned to her cheeks and she glanced warily at Severus; not gratefully or fondly, but at least without aggression. "Narcissa, I wish to help your son. He does not deserve the situation he is in now."
"Indeed he does not," Dumbledore agreed, leaning forward slightly in his seat. "No child should be drawn unnecessarily into the war, to have responsibilities greater than their age thrust upon them. It is a game for the mad and the desperate." Severus wondered idly if the headmaster considered a certain Gryffindor boy when he made such a claim. "Which leads me to another matter, a matter that was overlooked prior, to spare your son further distress."
Frowning Severus glanced between the elderly man and the Malfoys. He was uncertain of the segue, but suspected he should keep his lips sealed regardless. He was not disappointed.
Narcissa sighed heavily. "You preach of the altruism of your protection, headmaster, yet the payment you request is… substantial."
"I am striving to win a war, Mrs. Malfoy. I will use every weapon at my disposal."
Narcissa nodded, but her downcast eyes still held resentment. "You suspected the change in his orders?"
Severus' frown deepened. "Change? What change?"
Rather than Narcissa, Dumbledore replied. "Voldemort has dubbed Draco the hand that is to murder me."
Silence met the old man's words. It was not entirely unexpected; Severus had assumed the order would be given sooner or later, directly assigned. But to Draco… To their credit, Narcissa and Lucius looked pained at the prospect, though Severus suspected it was due more to fear for their son than for any overt impact Dumbledore's death would have on the Wizarding world. Severus nearly snorted at the shortsightedness that had them considering themselves exempt of the fallout of such an explosive collapse.
"That is what pushed you to seek protection? He would fail, if he attempted."
Lucius nodded. "Of course he would. We love our son, but we are realistic."
"And you offered… what? To turn spy?"
All eyes turned towards the headmaster, watching the exchange with sharp eyes. Severus raised an eyebrow slightly in question.
Nodding slowly, the Dumbledore dropped a hand to his beard. Severus felt his eyes captured by the steady stroking of white-grey curls. "I find spy a harsh word." Severus snorted quietly, but was ignored by his fellows completely. "However, in this instance, it will do. Yes, I would request you act as eyes and ears in the Death Eater ranks. And, as Severus has done so in the past, to assist in our efforts where possible."
Lucius scowled. "You included none of this in the Vow."
"Of course not. I wished to spare your son." The reference to Draco caused both Malfoy's to drop their heads and Severus realised that, even free of magical bindings, they would both do as requested for the sake of their son. Such is the power of love… the power of family. Whether unconsciously – unlikely – or deliberately, Dumbledore was urging them into their role as moles.
Slowly, then with more force, they nodded acceptance. Narcissa seemed to have lost her voice for once, leaving Lucius to reply. "Do you have any specific orders you wish to be translated presently?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I believe that ensuring the stability of your position will be trying enough. Voldemort does not suspect the difficulties Draco is suffering with the Vanishing Cabinet. At what point does he demand completion?"
"Before the end of the school year. At least a month in advance." Severus ignored the pained glances Narcissa and Lucius turned towards him.
Inclining his head, eyes fastening on the tabletop, Dumbledore stared fixedly. "Then we have less than six months before your definite endangerment." His head nodded slightly to himself. "Yes… we can work with this. There is time."
"And after such time?"
Dumbledore flickered his eyes to Lucius. "If you prove yourselves trustworthy, I will be more than willing to offering protection towards you, much as I have offered to Draco."
"At a price," Narcissa murmured.
"There is always a price, Mrs. Malfoy. A price of equal value to that which is offered."
Severus heard Narcissa swallow beside him in the ensuing hush. Lucius was nodding slightly, as though attempting to come to terms with his fate. Dumbledore flickered his gaze between the two Malfoys, emotionless, as though studying unfamiliar tools and assessing their possible function.
Finally, unwilling to await the continuation of conversation, Severus broke the silence. "You formed a Vow of Mutualism with Draco?" If there was a slight reprimand in his tone, well, it couldn't be helped. Distant though he maintained their relationship, Severus did… care for the boy.
"Yes. It was necessary."
"And the price?"
'Simply that he renounce attempts to pursue further Death Eater activity.'
Severus nodded, accepting. "You used Potter as a Conduit?"
"He was the only one available at hand."
"You could have requested my presence."
Dumbledore smiled. "I was in the process of doing as much, but Draco's distress on the possible introduction of a stranger into the ceremony drove Harry to offer himself as an alternative."
"A stranger? You could have told him it would have be me."
"Do you think he would have accepted, even had he known?"
Severus clicked his tongue once more. No, most likely Draco would not have. The boy was stubborn, a trait he seemed to have inherited in equal parts from his mother and father. "Potter was objective enough to act as a Conduit?"
The old man's smile widened. "Perhaps not particularly objective, but his magic is innately light. His following actions," Dumbledore raised his right hand, illustrating his words, "proves this. As such, there was nary a hiccup in the process."
"Innately light?" Narcissa spoke up for the first time from her self-imposed silence. "Did you suspect the nature of his magic prior to agreement, or was it purely coincidental?"
"Harry is one of the Boys Who Lived, a child who escaped one of the darkest homicides of Wizarding history. Though not a recipient of a Killing Curse, his survival through the curse that was cast upon him in itself credits a significant magical allegiance if ever there were one. The boy must have incredible strength, both of magical and personal character, to be able to eliminate such a profound taint. And not just once." Satisfaction, almost smugness, settled on the old man's face. Severus pinched his lips in irritation. The headmaster was wise, to be sure, and powerful, but his condescension and lack of emotional investment at times was incredibly vexing.
"Strength? Oh yes, I can assure you he has that."
Severus turned slowly to Narcissa, puzzlement threatening to further wrinkle his brow. She sounded almost as angry as she had when defending Draco. It sounded almost as though she… cared for Potter? Did she even know the boy?
Dumbledore was similarly regarding the witch with question. "You are obviously distressed over some matter?"
"Distressed? No, not as such." Her tone bespoke otherwise.
"Then tell me, what troubles you?"
Not for the first time that day, Severus was relieved that Narcissa had trained her focus upon the headmaster. He was not sure even he could weather the force of her cold glare. "How much do you know of Harry's family, headmaster?"
Hand clasping on Narcissa's elbow, Lucius leant into his wife's side and whispered inaudibly in her ear. His wife did not even turn to him, simply tugged her arm from his grasp and hardened her stare further.
Frowning curiously, Dumbledore turned towards Severus. "Harry was raised initially with his aunt and uncle, before deciding to live with his second cousin in Paris at the age of eleven. It was this reason that he chose not to attend Hogwarts."
"And this family. They treated him well?"
Again Albus fixed Severus with a stare. 'Perhaps you would share your knowledge Severus?'
Tipping his chin, Severus opened his mouth to speak. He directed the words at the headmaster, however; he didn't think he would be able to retain his dignity if he met Narcissa's gaze. "From what I can understand, his aunt and uncle feel… little love for him. They chose to offer only the bare minimum regarding his time in their care – a time, they assured me repeatedly, was more than five years ago. They have not seen the boy since." He couldn't keep the ring of anger from his tone. Little love? Not even. Severus had been left with the impression that they purely disliked the boy, that they considered him unruly and difficult to handle. An exaggeration, Severus was sure; he couldn't image anyone ever genuinely referencing the quiet boy as 'unruly'. He thanked whatever god was looking out for him that ensured Petunia did not recognise him upon opening that door in Privet Drive. He didn't think he could have conversed civilly with Lily's sister had she been aware of his connection to her, especially on top of their distaste for the Potter boy.
It was a blessing, Severus was sure, that the boy had left their care years ago. Perhaps the disagreeable home environment of his early childhood had contributed to the boy's… outburst.
"They assured me, however, that Potter was in the care of his favoured Uncle Stephen Defaux. That he had requested a change in guardianship himself for a chance to 'experience a knew culture',' Severus couldn't quite keep his eyes from rolling, 'and they had obliged his request. When I visited Defaux, I found him rather distressed over the absence of his ward, but otherwise showed a marked affection for the boy." Severus had been, if possible, more distasteful of Defaux. Something about the man had repulsed him slightly, and he didn't like the almost longing ring in his voice whenever he spoke of Potter. He seemed somewhat besotted with the boy, but then… Severus had never been the recipient of any kind of overt familial love, not even from his mother. Perhaps such was normal, even if it did leave a distasteful flavor on his tongue.
It was a shame Severus couldn't use Legilimancy, even for curiosity's sake. He suspected there was a deeper relationship beneath the surface – Defaux was a little too eager in his questioning, even for a doting relative – and yet, again, what did Severus know? It was not as though a solid relationship with his guardian was a bad thing. He'd informed Dumbledore of his suspicions, and they had pursued Potter's medical history to broaden their search for the trigger in his past but had eventually come up against a wall. The subject had been dropped, because, well… Potter appeared to be better. Much better, even.
"A marked affection?" Those three, hard words drew Severus' attention once more.
The fire still flickered in the fireplace. Severus was surprised by that fact. Narcissa's voice should have rained snow from the ceiling for its coldness. He turned his head slowly towards the woman, nearly slumping in relief when he realised he had fixed her attention upon Dumbledore.
For his part, Dumbeldore maintained his composure as though he were not staring down a raging blizzard that lay restrained by only a failing protective charm. "What concerns you, Mrs. Malfoy? I confess, I would not –"
"Your affection, headmaster, is nothing so much as the twisted perversions of a monster." It should have been impossible, for Narcissa's voice to embody both intensely raging heat and the blinding force of an blizzard, but she managed it. "That boy, with his 'strength' that you so praise, has suffered through more than any child should be subjected to. Alone. And you admire that strength for its contribution to your cause?"
Face darkening with every word, Dumbledore leant forward in his seat. "What do you know?"
"Know? I know enough. Even had I not been forced to perform emergency Legilimens on him when Draco found him but a few days after school, his physical state would have been enough to inform me of that which he had suffered."
"You found him? Where? How?"
Hissing beneath her breath, Narcissa shifted her gaze to the floor Her jaw was clenched so tightly it left a bulge in her cheek. With a start, Severus realised that this was the most distressed he had ever seen the woman in public. Maybe she truly does care for the boy… It wouldn't be an impossibility. Beneath her hard exterior, Narcissa was certainly a caring enough person.
"Such information is inconsequential. What should concern you, headmaster, is how a ward beneath the blanket of your care was subjected to such rigorous and chronic abuse without your knowledge and directly beneath your supervision." Her eyes flickered upwards, spearing the headmaster who, incredibly, didn't flinch. "Do you deny your ignorance in this regard?"
Feeling blue eyes flicker towards him, Severus met Dumbledore's gaze. His gut churned as he realised just exactly the extent of what they had missed. With startling speed, he felt a wave of nausea flood through him, a throbbing springing to his temples. He was glad that Dumbledore chose to break the silence; Severus' tongue was so dry it clung to the roof of his mouth. "We suspected the occurrence of an… incident. Certain events that have occurred since Harry's attendance at this school have indicated as much. Severus' visit to his various residencies was an attempt to discern as much, but…" His voice was hollow, as dark as Narcissa's was chilling.
"What do you propose to do about it?" Lucius spoke when his wife seemed suddenly incapable.
Drawing a deep breath, Dumbledore stared directly at Narcissa. Though Lucius had asked the question, it was clearly the witch who continued to hold his attention. "Whatever support can be provided will be. I will arrange a meeting with Defaux –'
"That won't be unnecessary."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering finally to Lucius. 'Is he…?'
"Defaux is no longer within the capacity to answer such questions. He is currently ailing, suffering from the posttraumatic stress inflicted from an awakened repressed memory. I would consider him without the capacity to answer such questions in the near – or distant – future."
A shiver trickled down Severus' spine at Lucius' words. The truth was so blatant he wondered at the need to disguise it with falsehood at all. Severus was not unfamiliar with acts of violence – far from it, really – but the shadowed image Lucius carefully painted only succeeded to further incapacitate his voice. Dumbledore evidently felt similarly for his eyes tightened, mouth thinning in response. Surprisingly, however, he did not question the situation further.
"Then, in that case, I will see to determining if Harry would agree to seeing a counselor, or Mind Healer. His future accommodation will be considered –"
"We will take him. He is nearly of age, but until then, he will remain in our care."
Severus nearly fell from his seat at Lucius' suggestion. He turned wide eyes at the figure reputed to be one of the hardest and most ruthless purebloods in the Wizarding world. What had happened to that man?
Dumbledore hesitated, but eventually nodded slowly. "I will discuss with Harry towards the end of the year. I believe that his opinion in this matter should be of greatest concern."
"Perhaps in this instance, face value should not be taken so lightly." Though not as chilling as his wife's, Lucius' words definitely held a sting.
"Of course. I would wish for nothing more. The welfare of my students is one of my primary responsibilities."
Abruptly, Narcissa rose to her feet. Severus was unsurprised; even as a third part observer, he felt the flicker of anger at the headmaster's words. Narcissa stared flatly at Dumbledore for a moment, nostrils flaring just slightly, before she turned on her heel and swept towards the exit. She swung the door open with a silent sweep of her wand and disappeared before Lucius had even risen to his feet.
Ever one to follow procedure, even in the most uncomfortable of situations, Lucius bowed his head towards the Dumbledore. "I apologise both for myself and on behalf of my wife for our abrupt departure, but I feel that distress dictates the need for a hasty retreat." He paused, half turning towards the door. "Narcissa's emotional investment has been known to get the better of her on more than one instance."
"Not without warrant, I believe."
Lucius looked mildly surprised at Dumbledore's weary words, but masked it behind another bow. "Your understanding is appreciated. My thanks." Chin rising, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door.
"Do you seek accommodation, Mr. Malfoy? Would you prefer to remain in the castle? We have adequate rooms for temporary stays if you should so desire."
Lucius, spared a glance over his shoulder at the suggestion, but shook his head with barely a pause. "I appreciate your offer, headmaster, but we have already sought accommodation in Hogsmeade. We shall visit tomorrow before our departure, unless you object?"
Dumbledore shook his head and Lucius offered a slight nod of thanks. Following in the footsteps of his wife, he disappeared through the open door with a silent sweep, cane tapping inaudibly on the carpet.
The door closed with a sharp snap. The echo of heavy wood and clicking latch hung in the room at the departure of the Malfoys. It was a long time before the stillness was broken.
"I believe, Severus, that we have made a dire error of judgment. In more instances than one."
"I would concur with your assumption," Severus agreed. His voice was barely a whisper, struggling against a croak. He wasn't even sure if he referred to Harry Potter or Narcissa Malfoy.

The hall was not even half full, but Harry doubted Draco would have noticed any of the surrounding students had it been jam-packed. As soon as Draco pushed Harry onto the pew at the Slytherin table, the blonde seemed to deflate. Not anything as obvious as a slump or a heavy sigh, but as Harry observed him with a sideways glance he couldn't overlook his friend's paleness, the tightness around his eyes, the slight ruffle to his usually pristine hair.
Draco settled himself into the seat beside him and before Harry could even consider loading up his own plate had filled a bowl with fruit slices, at least two slices of bread with butter and jam and something that was probably sugar cubes for tea, but seemed out of place with the lack of mugs and kettles on the stretch of the half-full table. Harry blinked down at the bowl in surprise as it was slid before him, opening his mouth to speak before clamping it shut again. Draco made no move to serve himself, but instead folded his arms before him on the table and stared intently at a jug of pumpkin juice. Harry doubted he even saw the jug.
"Draco?" Grey eyes turned towards him. "Are you… do you feel alright? After…"
Frowning slightly, his friend blinked. A moment later, he snorted in a sound that was purely Draco. "You're asking me that?"
"Um… yes?"
Shaking his head, Draco reached leant into Harry, pressing against him shoulder to shoulder. "Dumbledore said it was you we were supposed to be worried about."
"I'm not the one that just made a life changing Vow." It was a testament to how shaken Draco was that he didn't even bat an eyelid at the mention of the Vow in such a public place. Or maybe he was just confident that Harry had spoken quietly enough not to be overheard.
"I'm fine. Fine. Things will be different from now on, but I'm fine."
"Fine with what?"
At the sound of the intruding voice, both Harry turned and glanced behind him. Blaise, grinning widely with his immaculately white teeth, switched gazes between Draco and himself questioningly. Pansy, at his shoulder, similarly stared with a penetrating curiosity.
"None of your business," Draco grumbled, turning away from them to the table once more. Grabbing a glass of juice and primly filling it with pumpkin juice, he sipped with careful deliberation, as though it were the most important thing in the world.
"Draco, secrets breed discord," Pansy tutted with a sniff, prodding him in the back with a finger. She didn't seem particularly invested in pursuing her curiosity, however, for she turned to Harry a moment later and smiled. "Hello, Harry. Did you enjoy a pleasant Christmas break?"
Drawing his eyes away from Draco's fixed drinking, Harry offered her a small smile in return. "Very much, Pansy. And you?"
"Absolutely boring. Especially when one of my best friends disappears to a foreign country." She glared coldly at Draco, who only spared her half a glance before turning his attention to the juice. Pansy huffed indignantly, but seemed to brush it off with relative ease. Following Blaise, she settled herself onto the bench beside Harry. "Oh, but I have to thank you for my gift. It's beautiful."
Her words were genuine, that much Harry could tell. He felt a flush rise in his cheeks and, cursing his blasted inability to hide such responses, tucked his chin and fiddled awkwardly with his glasses. It didn't help when he saw the surprise flicker across Pansy's face, as though she had seen something unexpected, and exchange a subtle glance with Blaise.
Blaise spoke up in Pansy's silence. "Are you alright, Harry? You look a little unwell."
Another small smile, and Harry waved his had to brush off the concern. "Fine. Just a bit tired." He glanced towards Draco, who had turned towards him at Blaise's query. "Draco and I took an international portkey this morning and I'm not familiar so much with that mode of transport, so…"
"You and Draco were together?" Pansy's voice carried an odd resonance. It sounded almost… hungry? "Draco, did you take yourself to Paris for Christmas?"
"Yes. And what of it?"
"Why, whatever brought you to Paris?"
Growling lowly beneath his breath, Draco stared at Pansy with hooded eyes flashing. "I'm sure I do not know what you're insinuating, Pansy."
"Oh, I think you know –"
"International portkey travel does take a bit of a toll when you're not used to it." Bless him, Blaise spoke loudly over Pansy's words, his voice light-hearted as he helped himself to a slice of jam-smeared toast. "You're looking a little under the weather too, Draco."
"I'm fine, Blaise, though your concern is touching." The sarcasm rung strongly in his tone; not even Blaise would be been able to miss it.
Blaise shrugged, biting into a corner of his toast. "There's nothing wrong with keeping an eye out for a friend. You should have some chocolate, though."
What is it with wizards and chocolate? Is it their cure-all or something? It was not the first time Harry had been recommended to partake of such for curative purposes, and not just from earlier that day. He wondered idly if chocolate contained some sort of magical properties he was unaware of.
Sighing, Draco offered his friend a condescending roll of his eyes. "Thank you for the suggestion, but in case you hadn't noticed it is breakfast. Nutritionally sound diet and all, you know? I sincerely doubt such would be offered on the menu."
"Oh no, you just need to know how to know how to ask." Drawing his wand, Blaise cast a privacy bubble around them. Draco frowned, confused, while Harry glanced towards his friend curiously. "This, my friend, will make your day. And likely your every meal time hence."
Rapping his knuckles on the tabletop in a dancing rhythm, Blaise cleared his throat. "Special order: a bowl of your finest chocolate. Amedei, if you please."
"Blaise, don't be ridiculous, you can't possibly –"
Pansy's condescending words were effectively silenced by the ring of crockery as a bowl appeared on the table. The girl blinked rapidly, mouth opening and watched with incredulously raised eyebrows as Blaise slid the bowl towards Harry and Draco with a self-satisfied smirk.
Switching his gaze back and forth between Blaise and the bowl, face the image of bemusement, Draco picked up a square of chocolate. "Where did this little discovery come from?"
"What, the menu request?" Blaise leaned with an exaggerated slouch onto the table, crossing his arms. His smirk widened. "That, my friend, is for me to know and you to find out." He reached across the table and snagged a square for himself, sighing appreciatively as he snapped off a piece between his teeth.
"Who'd you learn that from? How come I didn't know you could actually request what you wanted to eat?" Harry suspected Pansy's hands would have been on her hips and her foot tapping indignantly had she been standing.
"It's not a widely known fact. I don't think the staff want to overwhelm the house elves with such a wide range of requests."
"The house elves would probably love to be run off there feet like that." Draco bit his own chocolate, nodding in satisfaction. He pushed the bowl towards Harry, who hesitantly helped himself.
"Yes, well, either way, only sixth years and above are allowed, so it's not like I've been able to use such a gift before we started the year anyway."
"Wait, so you've known since the beginning of sixth year." Blaise grinned in the face of Pansy's rising indignation. "I asked you, I asked you where you kept getting waffles from for breakfast, but you just kept saying I was missing them!"
Blaise shrugged, uncaring of the glare Pansy sent him. Harry was unsurprised; he knew from past experience that, while Pansy was not averse to giving the tall Italian boy a whack, she would not do so in such a public place.
Sudden warmth on his lap had Harry glancing beneath the table. Lyssy had appeared out of nowhere – he felt mildly guilty that he had forgotten about her since leaving the headmaster's office – and was curled in his lap and prodding his legs with gentle nudges of her paws. 'Happy? Better? Sleepy, my Harry needs to sleep.'
Patting her head, he sent her images of reassurance. 'Sorry I left you in Dumbledore's office. Where have you been?'
It wasn't really understandable as words, but the message Lyssy sent was a detailed description of her steps leading from the headmaster's office, emphasizing every wall she had rubbed herself along and familiar scents she had noted. An image of two youths in particular stood out clearly from her mind, both seated in the Great Hall and munching on a late breakfast.
'Neville and Ron are here?'
'The Snakey One and the one that Smells Like Chicken. Yes.' Harry wasn't sure exactly where she had gotten the names from, but the flurry of images, including those of the boys in question, were enough to deduce their identity. Raising his eyes, Harry lifted himself slightly from his seat and peered over at the Gryffindor table. He could make out Ron's bright head even at a distance. There was a faint urge to call them to attention, but his natural inclination towards muteness got the better of him and he eased himself back down in his seat again, nibbling on the corner of the chocolate square. He wasn't sure if he could speak loudly enough to be heard across the room anyway.
"…exactly the same with that time in Herbology third year when you didn't tell me the name for the book on Lynching Creepers. You kept it from me for two months, Blaise. Two months!"
Listening into his friend's conversation once more, Harry felt a smile tickle his lips. It appeared Pansy had shifted her discontent over Blaise's deliberate close-lipped approach to secret keeping in general. The Slytherin boy, for his part, seemed to be reveling in being the center of Pansy's attention, simply grinning as he worked his way through the bowl of chocolate alongside Draco.
"Yes, but I did give it to you, didn't I?"
"Only in exchange for copying half of my Potions essay!"
Blaise shrugged again. "Nothing comes for free, Pansy. You would think less of me if I had given it to you outright."
"I most certainly would not!"
"You know you would."
"I wouldn't!"
"Would you two please take your flirting elsewhere? It's disrupting my lunch; I'm having difficulty keeping down my food." Draco drawled with an almost bored drone, taking another sip of his pumpkin juice in a very undisrupted fashion. Harry hid a smile of amusement at the stunned expressions that painted Blaise and Pansy's faces.
"Flirting? Us?"
"I am most certainly not flirting, Draco Malfoy!"
"You're not fooling anyone, you know. Why don't you just admit it already?" Another sip, and Draco shared a twinkling glance with Harry. Harry allowed his smile to show this time, more in relief than amusement. If Draco could tease his friends, then he must be feeling at least partially recovered from the morning's ordeal. Maybe chocolate did have magical properties.
'Chicken on the move.'
"What?" Harry was so baffled by Lyssy's statement that he spoke aloud. Draco looked at him quizzically, eyebrow raised, but before he could say anything another voice interrupted them.
"Hey, Harry. How are you? Didn't see you come in, mate."
It was Ron, of course. Harry had to bite back his amusement at Lyssy's grumblings of chicken before turning towards the Gryffindor boy standing behind him. Raising a subdued hand in greeting, he shrugged one shoulder. Neville appeared beside Ron a moment later.
"Hi Harry. Nice Christmas?"
"Yes, thank you. And you?"
Neville shrugged in reply. "Well, my Gran was on her soap box from the moment I got off the train, so I ended up spending most of it at Ron's. Not much of a change on that front." The two boys shared a knowing smile, nudging each other's shoulders. "Thanks for my present, by the way. Where did you even find one?"
Harry shrugged again, but felt a spreading of warmth in his gut. That's the second person to say they liked my gift! It was childish, he knew, but that simple joy was one of the best feelings he'd ever had. Better even than the embarrassed gratitude of receiving them. "A little nursery in Paris. From Le Rue de Marvelles."
"Rue de Marvelles? Wait, did you go to The Seeds in Splendor? Is that where you got it from?"
Harry frowned for a moment, the memory of the shop flickering before his eyes and his mind translating the words above the door. "Ye-es?"
"Ah, I'm so jealous! I've always wanted to go there. It's tiny, but their range of exotics is fantastic." There was genuine longing in Neville's voice, something that apparently baffled Ron as the red-head proceeded to reprimand his friend on the enthusiasm of his green-thumb.
The moment Harry's attention shifted slightly from Neville's arrival, he became aware of the silence of the Slytherins around him. It had nothing to do with the privacy spell – in fact, it appeared that Blaise had dropped the bubble already – but rather a tense stillness and focus upon the various dishes that adorned the table as though they held the answers to the end-of-term exams. None spared a greeting, nor even a second glance, for the Gryffindors.
What happened? Harry glanced between his friends. They're acting strangely around one another. The Gryffindors appeared to even be edging slightly away from Blaise and Pansy, as though they felt uneasy in their immediate vicinity. What happened to that friendship before the holidays? They are friends, aren't they?
Glancing towards Draco, he tried to question the blonde boy with his eyes. Draco met his gaze for a moment, and the guarded expression said he knew exactly what Harry was attempting to ask. He merely shrugged tightly, fiddling half-heartedly with his empty glass.
That isn't right. When did this happen? Did something happen? When did I miss it? The prospect of the easy camaraderie between his peers, the people he had thought were his friends and friends of one another, deteriorating to a state nearly as unfriendly as it had been months before was more painful than Harry would have previously thought possible. He would never have thought that the interactions of people around him would impact him so profoundly; he had always been solitary, and it had been exhausting and more than a little intimidating attempting to become accustomed to the constant presence of others. In the early weeks of starting at Hogwarts, he had been more grateful than he could describe to have been offered Featherwood's rooms. The brief privacy at nightfall was a much needed reprieve.
The holidays with Draco had been different. It didn't feel so much like his friend was intruding on his carefully defined bubble of space. Harry still found it a little surprising that he had adapted so naturally to being around Draco. Not just a lot, but all the time. And yet, it was comfortable. More than comfortable, even. When had he grown to rely – no, rely wasn't strong enough – to enjoy the company of others so much?
But for whatever reason, and at whatever time, seated at the Slytherin table in the midst of straight-backed tension he felt nothing if not deep loss at the regression of the friendship that had grown between his fellow sixth years the year before. A slight burn started in his eyes, a lump lodging in his throat. Oh god, don't cry, please don't cry. What is wrong with me that I'll cry at the drop of a hat?
A tap on his leg almost caused Harry to jump and he glanced beside him. Pansy was frowning deeply, a worried cast to her dainty face. Catching his eye, she seemed to speak a thousand questions with one look.
Harry shook his head, fiddling with the half-eaten square of chocolate in his hands. He was feeling better now – at least in terms of weariness – and no longer quite so woozy. Maybe he could leave? He glanced surreptitiously towards Draco. Would Draco come with him? All of a sudden it seemed very distressing that he wasn't entirely sure if his friend would accompany him, would be with him as he was over the holidays. He was only half-aware of the Gryffindor's continued conversation.
"I have my own reasons, and you should respect that, Ron. I don't question your taste in quidditch teams."
"That's because you know they're the right tastes."
"When was the last time the Cannons actually a game, Ron?"
The red-head flushed slightly, and grumbled beneath his breath. Even in his growing discomfort, Harry had to smile at that. He couldn't help but notice Ron never actually answered that question.
Neville caught Harry's eye, a brief moment of confusion playing across his face before he broke into a smile. "Hey, you look chirpy. Bit pale, but still. Happy." He grinned.
Blinking, Harry cocked his head. Happy? Did he really look happy? He felt more on the verge of melancholy than happy. He didn't get a chance to reply though, as Draco spoke for him.
"International travel. It's a bit discomforting."
For the first time, Neville switched his attention to the Slytherin. "Oh, right." He paused, cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly at Ron before turning back on Draco. "How was your break, Dra… Mal… um…?"
The stumble nearly Harry to wince. He felt the insistent tap of Pansy's foot on his leg but ignored it, eyes dropping to his plate and hand to Lyssy's back to stroke compulsively. It was that or tear a bloody scratch at his collarbones. How sad. What on earth happened? It was all so wrong.
To his surprise, however, Draco seemed to read his distress better than Harry had given him credit for. He could feel his friends eyes upon him but didn't meet them, keeping his chin tucked instead. He did start, however, when warm fingers slipped into his own.
"Rather pleasant, in fact, Neville. More so than I was expecting it to be." There was even a note of satisfaction in his tone, so far removed from the anxiety that Harry had seen in him over the break – in the last hour, even – that he raised his head in surprise. Draco smiled at him brightly; so brightly it must have been at least half-forced, but there was definitely sincerity there too. "I met up with Harry in Paris and we spent most of the break together."
And just like that, Draco broke the ice. Looking back on it later, Harry would marvel at his friend's skill at easing the tension. He wondered with how difficult and how much intent Draco had done as much, but found he didn't really care. For whatever reason, it seemed to ease the nervousness of the Gryffindors and Slytherin's alike. Even the students seated a little further along the table, casting sideways glances towards the Gryffindors, seemed to take the jovial comment as a sign to be about their business.
It was almost as though Draco gave them permission to act like normal. Or at least as normal as they had been acting. For even in the brief time Harry had spent at Hogwarts, he knew that cordial relationships between Gryffindors and Slytherins were rare at best.
Neville broke into a smile that seemed more relief that amusement. "Paris? You went to Paris? You lucky sod; trust in a pureblood to have extravagant holidays."
"It was hardly extravagant, Neville. Freezing and full of Muggles, to be more precise."
Snorting, Neville rolled his eyes. "Only a snotty pureblood would consider 'full of Muggles' to be a bad thing." There was no sting in the words, though, and Harry even thought Draco looked on the verge of smiling in response.
"I dare you to spend a full day in Muggle Paris and not be tearing your hair, Longbottom."
"I will! Gladly! But only if you foot the bill to send me there. You've got a deal, in that case."
Pansy chuckled at Harry's side. Glancing towards her, he caught the flicker of a wink. Her eyes seemed to tell him 'don't worry', a reassurance akin to a pat on the shoulder. Harry turned away from her honest stare. It was a little disconcerting. Was he that transparent, that even in such a brief time she had been able to read his emotions and the cause of his distress like one would an open book?
Ron had leaned across the table and snapped up a handful of chocolate with the speed of a hunting hawk. Ignoring Blaise's squawk of distress, he stuffed the entire fistful into his mouth. The motion was so familiar and at ease that the five of them could have been different group of people entirely to those they had been moments before. "When 'oo ge' ba'?"
Draco raised an eyebrow at Ron in mild disgust. "I beg your pardon?"
"When did you guys get back?" Neville translated, fond exasperation rolling his eyes. Draco nodded, mollified, but kept his eyes on Ron as though fearing an assault of half-eaten chocolate projectiles.
"Just this morning. How about you?"
"Two nights ago. Dad had to go back to work, and I didn't want to stay at home with Gran. Ron's the same."
Nodding, Ron adopted an expression of dread. "You don't want to be left with nothing to do in the house when Mum's the one in charge. She'd start early on the spring cleaning."
"Just you two? What about Hermione?" Blaise glanced over the Gryffindor's shoulders, neck straining as his eyes scanned for a bushy head of hair. Harry rose slightly too, adding his own eyes to the search, but dropped back down in his seat when Lyssy muttered that the 'dusty girl' wasn't here.
Ron shrugged. "She's not back yet. Sent me an owl to tell me that she'd be back tonight, though. You know she got an owl?"
Draco nodded, a smug tilt to his chin. "Yes, I did, actually. Harry gave it to her."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "That was you? Hermione didn't tell me that."
"I thought she did. Didn't she say something about it coming from France?" Neville finally appeared to have had enough of standing and eased himself onto a bench. He gave Harry an approving smile only further eased the tension, as well as drawing a blush to Harry's cheeks. "She was ecstatic."
"Oh yeah. She was at that, too, wasn't she?" Ron sighed wistfully. "Kind of makes me wish I'd thought of getting her one years ago."
"So she's coming back tonight? Are you sure? It's definitely tonight?" Pansy's voice was oddly insistent.
"That's what she said. Why?"
"Oh please no, Pansy, not this year. I don't think I'm up to it." Blaise groaned, dropping his head to rest on his palm as though physically wearied.
"What? Why, what is it?" Ron glanced between the Slytherins, Pansy with her eyes sparkling in a predatory gleam and Blaise sighing long-sufferingly.
"Well, we'll need a back-to-school party, of course."
"Pansy," Draco warned, a sharp note to his tone. "We've talked about this already. Last year was disastrous enough; I don't fancy a repeat performance."
"Slytherins actually have parties?" Ron appeared almost stunned at the prospect. "As in, you actually enjoy yourselves?"
All three Slytherins stared at him scathingly. Even Blaise appeared affronted at the offense to his partying skills. Pansy pursed her lips before speaking. "Of course. Slytherins are the ultimate in terms of party preparations."
Apparently deeming it necessary to save his skin rather than go head-to-head with the Slytherin girl, Ron raised his hands before him in a gesture of placation. "Alright, alright. No need to get snooty at me. Just thought, you know, with all you stiffs –"
"Stiffs?"
"You know, you're all about 'image' and 'keeping things proper'." He cringed and Harry got the distinct impression he was fully aware he was digging himself into his own grave. "Never mind."
Pansy pinned him with a stare for a moment longer before turning to Blaise and Draco once more. Oddly enough, she didn't seem particularly phased by the half-hearted criticisms. Neither did Draco and Blaise, for that matter; they all dropped their disgruntlement remarkably quickly. The last tingles of distress in Harry's gut elicited by the initial unease finally dissolved. "Anyway, I wasn't going to host a repeat performance of last year. Besides, it would be tiresome to do the same thing twice. No, I have something a little more intimate in mind."
Draco snorted, the Gryffindors seemed to be unsure whether to be excited or mortified, and Blaise perked up markedly. Harry bit his lip at the Italian boy's reaction; he shared a knowing glance with Draco, who seemed on the verge of aiming a dig at his friend. He restrained himself, however, enough to question Pansy with "what, exactly, did you have in mind?"
"What, you think I'd tell you and spoil the surprise?"
"You can't honestly think it will remain a surprise for long, not when you're setting it up in…" Draco paused, frowning. His eyes darted to the Gryffindors. "Who exactly are you thinking of inviting to this last-minute affair?"
Pansy shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I was just thinking, you know, maybe our study group from last term."
"That includes Gryffindors, Pansy. That could pose a problem."
"Oh, not at all!" She arched an eyebrow, looking down her nose at Draco as though he were a rather foolish child. "You didn't honestly think I would host such a party in Slytherin common room, did you?"
"Well then, where –"
"Ah, patience, my dear! All in good time."
"What, so you're gonna set it all up, just by yourself?" Ron appeared mildly impressed at the prospect, though not enough to distract him from reaching across the table to the bowl of chocolate Blaise now cradled in his arms. Blaise moved the bowl just out of reach without sparing him a glance.
"Of course. I will simply give you the time and place, and you'll bring yourself."
"Hermione too?"
A sigh, and another hair flip. "Really? You honestly think I would exclude her? What do you take me for?"
Ron shrugged, unconcerned. "A Slytherin." Oddly enough, Pansy had no reply to that.
"Okay, so you'll set it all up." Draco drew the attention back to the topic at hand, fingers of the hand that wasn't still grasped in Harry's rubbing tiredly at his forehead.
Pansy nodded. "I should think all will be ready by dinnertime. If we meet just outside the Great Hall? At around six?"
There was a round of nods, shrugs and murmurs of agreement. An air of enthusiasm rippled them all, spearheaded by Pansy herself. Ron, taking the distraction as it was offered to him, reached across the table once more and managed to swipe another square of chocolate.
"Hey, stop eating my chocolate!"
"Actually, Blaise, I think it was supposed to be Harry's chocolate." Draco raised a pointed eyebrow at his friend.
"Regardless, I requested it."
"Requested," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate, eyes brightening. "What, from the kitchen?"
"Well, it wasn't from Snape, that's for sure."
"I thought it was weird that they had sweets at breakfast. How'd you get that?"
A wide grin spread across Blaise's face. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
The ensuing banter was light-hearted, and barely descended past half-hearted criticisms that were more pathetic and laughable than digging. Harry watched silently as his friends slipped back into the naturalness they had gradually adopted months before with a sigh of relief. Everything was alright; whatever that slight glitch was, it appeared they didn't hate each other. Or even dislike each other, if the laughter bubbling from various mouths and echoing around the hall was any indication.
Glancing towards Draco, he met his friend's gaze once more. He wasn't sure if Draco truly understood what had happened, but he attempted to convey his gratitude nonetheless. Draco simply shrugged as though to say 'no big deal' and gave his hand a squeeze.
- 16
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The Masks of Real Heroes