Whisper

Chapter 18: For Good-WICKED



Draco sighed as he walked down the stairs and entered the dining room where Narcissa was waiting for him so they could start breakfast. In the month since he severed contact with Harry, he had been given several new cases. Compared to Harry, the cases were easy and were effective ways to fill in his time.



“Good morning, Draco,” said Narcissa as Draco sat down.



“Good morning, Mother,” said Draco. Sissy appeared with a bowl of fruit and a cup of coffee before disappearing.



“Do you have anything interesting to do today?”



“I was asked to care for the Longbottoms. Neville, their son, wasn’t too pleased that I was caring for his parents.”



“I remember Frank and Anne. They were in my year at school. Their son is your age, isn’t he? He was in your year?”



“Yes, he was. Unfortunately we didn’t get along too well.”



“I can imagine. As hard as I have tried to make you the polite young man I know you are, you had your father’s stubborn pride.”



Draco smiled over at his mother. “Don’t remind me.”



“How is young Evangeline? You’ve received her letter yesterday?”



Draco cleared his throat and looked down at his fruit bowl to keep his mother from seeing him blush. Evangeline had started writing to him weekly, asking how his day was and when he would begin visiting again. Draco knew she wasn’t the one that actually written the letters. The handwriting was too small, neatly spaced and spelled correctly, and that she was too young to know how to write. Draco concluded they were written by Granger.



Along with the inquiries were news on Harry improving condition, possibly written by Granger then the young Potter. Harry still was afraid to sleep without a moon globe and refused to sleep alone, relying on Evangeline to sleep peacefully. Aside from these he acted like he had four years ago before the curse had been cast.



“She is fine,” he said. “She wishes us to visit her soon, but unfortunately my schedule doesn’t have any openings.”



Narcissa looked over at her son, sighed and set her fork down. “Draco, you’re purposely crowding your schedule, aren’t you?”



“He was my patient, Mother. I can’t see him anymore.”



“That’s correct, Draco Lucius, he was your patient. Whether you see him now or not is your own business. And besides, the treatment was a secret so no one will know that you were his Mind-Healer. You are free to see him if you choose.”



“What have Evangeline? She is my sister.”



“And has every right to see her brother as her brother does her. A visit won’t do any harm.”



Draco looked away from his mother and down at his fruit bowl. Did he have the right to see Harry and Evangeline? He loved them both very much, that he knew. The month away from them hurt him more then anything he had experienced before, but he was always taught that a Mind-Healer set his emotions apart from the victims they were treating. Yet this victim, and his family, had the opposite effect that Draco couldn’t deny.



As Draco finished eating Nobby appeared with the newspaper and held it out for Draco.



“Master Malfoy’s newspaper, sir,” he said.



“Thank you, Nobby,” he said, taking the paper. Nobby bowed and disappeared. Draco untied the string keeping it rolled up and opened the Daily Prophet. His eyes widened at the headline picture.



“What is it, Draco,” asked Narcissa as Sissy appeared with a fresh cup of tea for her, but Draco didn’t hear her. He was staring at the picture.



It was of Harry smiling happily as he ate ice cream with Evangeline outside of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, and of course all three Weasleys were with him.



Reporter Dennis Creevey had the honor of being the first reporter to interview Harry Potter after a two year absence. Shortly after meeting Mr. Potter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor with his daughter and friends the interview began.



Dennis Creevey: This will be your first Ministry function in two years. Why did you decide to attend this one?



Harry Potter: This one will be to remember the war. Our friends lost in it shouldn’t be forgotten. That and I wanted to avoid being cursed again.



Creevey: (laughs) Is that why you remain elusive these last couple of years. To avoid curses?



Potter: Wouldn’t you?



Creevey: (laughs again) Rumor has it you made a substantial donation to St. Mungo’s Mentality ward and to the St. Lily Magical Orphan Foundation.



Potter: One thing I’ve learned is to never trust rumors, even if their true.



The rest was of the date of the function and that it was being held in Hogwarts. Draco folded the newspaper and handed it to Sissy.



“Put this on my desk, please,” he ordered.



“Yes, Master Malfoy, sir,” she said and disappeared. He sat up and Nobby appeared the clean his place.



“Have a good day, Mother,” he said, kissing her cheek. She kissed his in return.



“You too, dear,” she said. “Don’t let Head Healer Churchill get to you.”



“I won’t,” he said and walked to the fireplace and Flooed to St. Mungo’s. He arrived at his office there and started look through the files. He had taken care of three cases before lunch and walked into the healers lounge as Parvarti Patil and Susan Bones sat down.



“Hello, Malfoy,” said Patil. “Have you heard of the donation?”



“Yes, I believe it was Potter that donated the money,” said Draco taking out his salad. That was kept in a Stasis Charm.



“Yeah,” said Bone. “A hundred thousand Galleons. No one’s made that much of a donation since your father.”



“Think he was paying a debt?” asked Patil to Bones. “He’s never made a donation before.”



“He may be. What do you think, Malfoy?”



“I think he’s being his usual Gryffindor self,” said Malfoy and that ended the conversation.



He had just finished a session with the son of a rich widower, talking over the death of his mother when the head of the department, Head Healer Churchill, came walking down the hall toward him.



“Malfoy,” said Churchill, walking up to the blonde. Draco immediately went on his guard. The Head Healer had protested Draco’s involvement on being a Mind-Healer and constantly monitors all of Draco’s sessions.



“Healer,” greeted Draco properly. Even among enemies you had to be polite.



“A….letter arrived for you, Malfoy,” said Churchill crossing his arms. “There’s no return sender and is unmarked except for the St. Mungo’s address, and it’s magik for only you to open.”



‘In other words, you tried to see what was in my mail,’ translated Draco. “Thank you, Healer. I’ll take a look at it.”



Churchill nodded and walked down the hall and Draco headed to his office. On the desk was a plain white envelope with his name and the St. Mungo’s address on top of a box. Curious Draco picked it up and opened the envelope, and nearly dropped it when he pulled out the letter.



You are invited to the Hogwarts Memorial Party on the 25 of March at 6:00 pm. Hosted by the Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt. Formal dress is required. Sincerely, Percy Weasley Secretary to the Minister of Magic.



He was invited to the celebration? He hadn’t been invited in the last five years since Harry had been cursed. Why would he be invited now?



He set the card down on its back and opened the box. It was a set of dress robes dress robes, a silvery green with a ruby tie pin.



“What is going on,” asked Draco. He had a set of very nice, very new dress robes in his wardrobe, but obviously someone want him to dress to match.



He set the box aside, deciding to deal with it later and was about to pick up a file when something on the card caught his eye. Writing. Someone had written on the back of the card.



You’re escort will await you at the entrance.



“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Draco. Someone had invited him to the party and wants to escort him. Probably so that no Muggle-born fanatic tries to curse down the head of the Malfoy house.



Setting the card on top of the box, picked up his work file, walked out of his office, locked the door with a spell and went to his next appointment, a small smile on his lips.



xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo



The day of the Memorial Party Draco stood by his bed staring at the box. He wondered if he should go and give his sender the benefit of the doubt or stay and have his sender be dateless.



“Oh, for Slytherin’s sake,” said a voice and Draco turned to see Narcissa walk into the room. “Go. You haven’t gone to a social party since the fall of that mad man.”



“But what if it turns out to be for someone’s amusement?” asked Draco.



“Then your father has taught you nothing on being a Malfoy.” And she turned and left the room. Draco watched her leave and turned back to look at the box. Narcissa was right. He was a Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake! He should not be afraid of a few cowards talking behind doors and walls.



“I must be out of my mind,” he said opening the box. He showered, dressed, and in an hour he left the Manor.



He Apparated just inside Hogsmeade. Other early arrivers were standing around, talking to friends, acquaintances, associates, basically anyone they could pull aside. A lot of people stopped and stared at him, whispering behind hands or backs turned. Through they tried to keep it low he could hear what they were whispering.



“Why did they invite him? He’s going to ruin everything.”



“Did you hear about his latest patient? They say he made him to go insane, just so he could work on him.”



“Genevieve says that he’s crazy in the head.”



“They should lock him in Azkaban with that murdering father of his.”



“Death Eater!”



Draco just kept his head down, eyes closed, hands in his pockets, and ignored them, walking down the familiar path to the school. The passersby let him through, afraid to touch him or come near him. As he reached the school he looked up and gazed up at the castle once again. Whether its power was magical or not, Hogwarts castle was still a magnificent sight to behold, but compared to the first time a person looks on the castle on the lake for the first time topped them all. Lucius had always told him that it was there he’d begin his magical training, but Lucius never said had beautiful the castle was, light up at night and the light of the rooms shining on the water. Nothing compared to that day.



His gaze was torn from the castle by the sound of familiar, melodious laughter. There, standing on the top step, was Harry Potter. He was chatting with William and Fleur Weasley. His hair was put into some sort of order in an attempt to hid the scar but it still poked through the jet black bangs and he wore wire framed oval glasses, acceptable compared to the large framed glasses he wore when he attended school. His dress robes were of a gold red material with an emerald tie pin. At the sight of Draco he excused himself and walked toward the blonde.



“Dressed to match, eh,” he said, his hands casually in his pockets.



“I dress in what I look best in, Potter,” sad Draco but with none of the sneer like he had used in his school years.



“Harry.”



Draco looked at him, confused. “Excuse me?”



“Harry, Draco. Draco, Harry,” said Harry pointing between them. “Don’t tell you’ve forgotten. It’s only been a month.”



Draco sighed and crossed his joined. “No, Harry. I have not forgotten. I don’t think I could forget.”



“Do you regret it?” Draco looked up and saw Harry with a worried afraid expression.



“No,” he said quickly, taking Harry by the arm. “No, Harry. I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret it.”



“Really?”



“Yes! Harry, you’ve taught me so much. That the world isn’t black and white, to accept changes to survive, and that even your most hated enemy has nightmares?”



“Do you hate me, Draco?’



“No! Merlin no, Harry, I can never hate you. I love you.”



Harry smiled and drew Draco closer for a small kiss. “So, are we together now?” he asked.



“Do you want us to be?” asked Draco resting his forehead on Harry’s.



“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked. So do you?”



Draco just smiled and kissed Harry’s scar, so familiar and natural that both already knew the answer. When Draco pulled away Harry reached up and pulled Draco for a long kiss. Draco ignored the stares around them as he held Harry close to him and kissed back.



Finally they drew apart and Harry smiled up at him.



“We’ll have to take it slow, you know,” said Harry. “I’m still jumpy about…certain things.”



Draco smiled at him. “I’m willing to wait,” he said.



Draco held his arm for Harry, who linked his arm through and both walked inside. Conversation stopped and everyone watched as the two wizards joined the party. Again there were whispers.



“Is that Harry Potter with Draco Malfoy?”



“Wasn’t he with You-Know-Who during the Last Battle?”



“I didn’t know they were together.”



“Do you think he were the reason why Harry Potter was hardly seen?”



Both smiled at the last comment and joined Weasley and Granger. Both were pleased to see them. Both had a glass of champagne in both of their hands and handed one to both Harry and Draco.



“About time you got here,” said Weasley, crossing his arm. “Harry had us waiting for over an hour.”



“Sorry to keep you waiting, Weasley,” said Draco with a smirk, “but you could have gone to eat without us.”



Granger and Harry laughed as Weasley’s face went a bright red.



“We’ve missed you at the Sanctuary,” said Granger. “Especially Eva. She wants to know when you’ll be coming to visit.”



Draco looked down at the drink in his hand. “Unfortunately may work is taking up a lot of my time,” he said. Looking up he saw the disappointment in Harry’s face and smiled. “But I’m sure I can make the time.”



Harry smiled back and Draco knew everything would be all right. Harry turned to talk to Weasley about his work and Granger chimed in about her office in the Ministry.



As the three talked Draco couldn’t help but admire Harry. The man had nothing but bad luck since his parents died but he still managed to find some good in every situation. Malfoys were survivors by luck and necessity, choosing a side that would best help them or would be the most likely to win. Potters were a different class on their own. They didn’t stay on the side lines and watched the battle, they fought. They were the ones that picked up the sword and joined the fray, no matter the danger. And here was a man who fought the greatest battle one could fight, against his own fears.



Potters, like Malfoys, were survivors. Their methods were different, but the results were the same.



XXXXXXXXXXXXX



What makes a person who they are? What makes them good or bad? Is it their parents? Their ancestors? Or is it the experiences that dragged them through life? Or are they born that way?



They say love can be found in the strangest places. They also said that opposites attract, and that you’re greatest enemy was also your closest friend. All of these things may be true, but what’s also true is that the mind holds many secrets, secrets that are waiting to be shared, or don’t wish to be shared at all. When someone looks into your soul they can tell what kind of person you are and can learn to love you or hate you.



TBC