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Redeemed Secrets	By : Prophecies Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 787 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Rainy Altercations
- 2-Oversight
- 1
- 2
Chapter 1: Rainy altercations

It was dark.

The streets beneath his feet echoed dissolutely in
sync with the falling rain that poured from the sky. One or two lights shone in
the distance like unfathomable eyes that could crack open skulls and absorb your
every thought, your every well kept secret.

He shivered.

Not because he felt cold but because his secrets
could rip the world apart.

Leaning against the rough wall of the narrow
alleyway, he quickly averted his eyes, a hand reaching up unconsciously to feel
for a fracture in his scalp. Finding none, he exhaled sharply and tried to
relax.

Tried, and soon gave up.

He wondered what he was doing here. He had not, in
actuality, expected him to show up. Not really. He had hoped though. Always
hoped.

Not expected, never expected.

He had given up on assumptions long ago when they
repetitiously had turned around to bite him in the ass. Now, he considered
everything either an advantage or disadvantage.

Hermione scolded him; she says it�s no way to
live.

He agreed.

He sighed and studied his watch, just for
something to do.

It was a pretty watch.

He had bought it mostly because he could, and
partly because he never got to have something nice. This way, he always carried
something nice with him however superficial. Something to look at to sooth his
nerves like now;

Silver, inlaid with finely shaped gold. The glass
made of the clearest crystal, edges perfectly rounded.

Numbers and hands both intricately worked with the
tiniest sharpened emeralds.

Numbers and hands both still showing one O� clock
in the morning, which meant he was late.

Late by thirty minutes.

Why had he hoped?

He turned his face up to face the night sky with
his eyes closed. The rain, soaking his hair, his skin, his robes, beating on his
eyelids like drums, seemed to be washing him away.

Until he was nothing.

Nothing but rain, skulking away through the cracks
of stone as he fell. Fell back into the ground. Until the sun gathered him up
again, high into the sky, only to fall down and be washed away once more with
the nearest storm.

A fierce crack made his eyes pop open. In
one smooth motion his wand was drawn, and he, poised as sudden
death.

A dark crouched figure straightened, then glided
forward.

Black robes billowing, white mask blinding.

It stopped about ten paces away, reached up, took
off its mask and waited.

�You came,� he breathed slowly,
wondrously.

�I said I would,� replied the other, voice cold
and shrouded.

He hesitated. �I wasn�t sure.� No
expectations. Never.

�You should have been,� bitter,
colder.

�You�re late.�

A shrug. �We don�t precisely clock-in or out,� was
commented flatly.

�Why?�

�If you must know,� a sneer plastered a
smooth face, �next time, I�ll ask The Dark Lord over for tea and kindly
request a set time-schedule,� was bit out harshly. �I�m sure he will
agree instantly and be very amendable,� the other�s voice finished,
dripping poison.

�You know what I mean,� he snapped back, annoyed.
�Why?� he demanded again.

�How should I know?� was growled back cruelly,
instantly.

He fixed the man before him with a stare, his
penetrating gaze incredulous.

�Maybe�� the other started finally, tongue
flickering over thin cracked lips, �maybe, I�m not a monster, not the epitome of
evil you lot make me out to be.�

Silence.

Not a monster? He thought evenly.

Gradually, anger, cold bodiless anger flitted
through him.

Not, evil?

He had seen the new pictures. Gruesome horrific
pictures. Pictures, if seen, would make anyone, anyone human he amended,
want to spill out his guts.

�I saw the photos. How could they? A house full of
Muggles. Children Malfoy! Muggle children, destroyed, ruined,� he spat
harshly, �how could you?�

Malfoy�s face was like stone, all hard angels and
lines. Eyes grey as ice and as hard as polished diamonds, glittering with
malice.

He remained silent.

Why had Malfoy agreed to meet?

He sighed and looked away, visibly gathering
himself.

He had not come here to argue. He had not, he told
himself firmly. He had known what Malfoy was and what he did. Long before the
first pictures were taken as evidence, and long after he became an Auror.

He had killed Snape. Hunted him down and killed
him. He had, as soon as he received status that classified him as an Auror. A
Dark Wizard catcher. Snape had been a Dark Wizard to him. One who had killed
Dumbledore, his mentor, his friend.

So he had killed him in return.

He had thought it a fair deal. A very fair one,
until recently he learnt Snape had been a spy. A spy who had only done his
�masters� biding; only not the master Harry had believed.

It still made his stomach
knot.

He could ill afford such mistakes. That�s why he
had contacted Malfoy. Because Malfoy had lowered his wand ten years ago, because
Malfoy had all but accepted Dumbledore�s offer of protection.

No, he could not afford such a mistake
again.

He forced his eyes away from the paved street,
away from those lights that wanted to pry his head open like a crowbar, and
squared himself to face the Death Eater.

The man before him looked nothing like the boy he
remembered. The boy, who he had thought cold and cruel seemed warm and pleasant
in comparison. He was still obviously Draco Malfoy, the sheer arrogance in his
stance and the haughty way he held his head high left little doubt. But his face
had equated out, wasn�t as pointy as it used to be, had roughened and looked to
be made of adamant.

�Prove it,� he told Malfoy
roughly.

He had not expected Malfoy to, in all honest
truth. He had not expected Malfoy able to prove anything. How could you
not be anything but a monster doing such things? He had hoped though,
always hoped. But never expected.

So when Malfoy looked at him calculatedly for long
seconds, nodded, reached into his dark robes, halted uncertainly, looked back up
into Harry�s eyes, gaze wavering towards Harry�s wand and back, Harry found
himself leaning forward on his toes in curiosity, motioning Malfoy to continue
impatiently, and at the same time lowering his wand arm a fraction.

What could he possibly prove?

His eyes stared in shock, and his breath left him
in a rush of astonishment as Malfoy produced a small cup between folds of cloth.
A small cup with two finely wrought handles shining dimly in the murky shadows
of the night with a burnished gold, engraved with a small reflection of a
badger.

Harry stood frozen on the spot, his eyes felt as
if they were bulging out of their sockets, and he stared at Malfoy
unnervingly.

Malfoy stared back at him, his face empty
seemingly unperturbed, but his tongue slivered across his lips again uneasily,
his long fingers fiddling with the white mask and wand still held in his other
hand.

�Well?� he challenged Harry, voice raw, eyes
studying him intently.

�Well�� Harry repeated, his voice surprisingly
firm. Not because that had been what he wanted to say but for lack of anything
else.

Malfoy started to shift when Harry did not
elaborate, his hand crumpling the mask in a white-knuckled fist. He breathed
raggedly through his nose and when Harry still kept his involuntary silence his
carefully crafted facade of stone cracked in two.

�I thought�,� he started anxiously, harrowing a
hand through white-blond wet strands of hair, as the hood of his robes fell
back, �this,� he held up Hufflepuff�s cup stiffly, �it isn�t� what� you
were looking for, is it?�

Harry understood.

Malfoy had agreed to meet with Harry solely
because he was in the possession of this cup.

This cup, he now
believed Harry did not need.

It was transparent that he held no illusions of
being able to take Harry on in a duel. His wand was still along his side,
pointed to the ground; smashed against his Death Eater mask, while Harry had his
firmly up, not pointing but not entirely lowered either.

Malfoy cast around wildly as if trying to find a
solution to his problems in the hidden chasms of the alley, trying to find
something he had lost.

Harry had seen more like it exempt of the badger
of course, and numerous other valuable magical objects of gold and silver during
the now legendary Malfoy Manor raid. An investigation he had led four years ago.

Malfoy had very likely grown up playing with these
kinds of artefacts and drank his pumpkin juice from golden family heirlooms,
just like this one.

At his order they had burned the manor down to the
ground.

To Malfoy it was merely an ordinary cup again.

A cup, Harry Potter did not need.

What Malfoy had lost was something he had
been positive would bend Harry to his will, or at least offer some form of
protection. He had lost an advantage. An advantage he had handed over to Harry
unsuspectingly.

Harry had been a fool not to have known that
Malfoy would only come if he would gain something. That he would come, only to
bring his own hidden agenda with him.

What did Malfoy want?

He finally found his voice, his mouth was dry, but
he ignored it just like he ignored Malfoy�s question.

�What is it?� he asked levelly. �An enchanted cup
that fills with wine when you tap it twice with your wand?� he mocked
contemptuously.

He knew perfectly well what it was. It was a
Horcrux. A Horcrux he had been ineffectively trying to track down for almost a
decade. His insides quivered like pudding, and he barely restrained himself from
snatching it out of Malfoy�s fingers.

Harry was an excellent Auror. He had learnt when
to use stealth and cunning and when to listen to his head instead of his
emotions.

Malfoy stood petrified, his faced darkened in
outrage, he opened his mouth angrily but was not given a chance to speak.

�What is this supposed to prove, Malfoy?�
he scorned, shaking his head for good measure. �Is this a bribe, am I supposed
to be impressed by trinkets?�

�This was a mistake,� interjected Malfoy savagely,
�I should never have come,� he announced to himself as much as Harry before
turning around, and striding back to the end of the alley, where he had
appeared. Cup still in hand.

�Wait!� Harry exclaimed.

He realised his mistake before Malfoy had paused
to look over his shoulder, his face, a mixture of relief and presumption. He
arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow and waited.

Harry cursed himself a fool. An excellent
Auror?

Malfoy was not going anywhere. If he really wanted
to Apparate away he would have done so instantly without the preamble. Harry
would have sooner killed Malfoy when his back had been turned if he really had
no need for him. Going by the relief faint but still visible on Malfoy�s face,
he had known that as well and taken the risk anyway.

�I want that cup,� he admitted, forcing his voice
to be casual and light. He was annoyed, especially with himself for falling for
Malfoy�s trickery. But he was not about to worsen the situation by letting him
know just how bad he wanted it.

Bewilderment bloomed on Malfoy�s face quickly
wiped away by a sense of triumph. Obviously he had truly believed the cup to be
worthless. Now, he cradled it in his arms, pressed it against his chest tightly
and narrowed his eyes warily at Harry as if he expected him to attack him
physically and wrestle it away from him by force.

�Not just a trinket, is it,� Malfoy deduced
slowly.

�No,� he conceded coolly.

�You need it.� A pleased little smile played on
his lips.

�It could save me some time, but I can find
another,� he lied. He had become used to lying.

Malfoy�s smile evaporated at once. �You�re lying,�
he hissed through his teeth.

Harry shrugged as if losing interest. �Whatever
Malfoy, if you really want to go, go.� He waved his hand in dismissal. �I won�t
stop you. I had not expected much from you.�

He turned to lean against the wall, taking his
eyes off of Malfoy as if he had found something more important to stare at, then
muttered, �Not a monster, really,� under his breath, while shaking his head
again in consternation.

He felt Malfoy stiffen next to him while the rain
continued to batter down on them relentlessly and felt the coldness finally
seeping into his bones slowly as his soaked robes clung to his
skin.

He fetched a piece of parchment from his cloak,
ignoring the drops of rain that immediately started to blur the ink and
pretended to study it. His stomach fluttered queasily, heart racing like a
hammer smashing his ribs but Malfoy had not so much as moved a toe. He did not
know what he would do if Malfoy were to move, if he were to actually leave. He
could not afford a mistake like Snape. If there was to be any hope, he
needed Malfoy. Maybe as much as he needed that cup.

Over ten years he had found two. Only two
Horcruxes.

Over ten years Voldemort had send his ever growing
rank of Death Eaters to terrorize the Wizarding World. Only London held. Held on with
hands and feet desperately. Barely.

Harry had made sure of it.

If the Ministry had fallen, if the people had lost
that glimmer of suppositious hope everything would have fallen.

Fallen to shambles.

People were afraid. London was packed like a horse; refugees from
all over the country had come seeking sanctuary. Most had been sent away.

One city could only hold so many.

He had been young and na�ve, had been terribly
angry with the world after the Tower incident. That�s how he referred to it
these days. The incident that had triggered many others.

He had never thought it would be easy. Nothing had
ever been easy for him. But after he had stumbled upon two Horcruxes within the
first year following his retirement as a Hogwarts student, he had become so sure
of himself. Too sure.

He saw Malfoy considering him from the corner of
his eyes. He still hadn�t moved. Not a toe. Harry compelled himself to be more
relaxed, focussed all his concentration on breathing evenly as he continued to
stare at the flimsy paper in his hand.

�What�s that?� Was asked after a
while.

�What is what?� he inquired back, voice made
absent.

�What you are reading, Potter,� Malfoy
snapped, irritated.

�None of your business is what it is,� he answered
coolly, staring unseeingly at last weeks groceries list. �Weren�t you leaving?�

Only the sound of rain followed and a crackling
thunder somewhere in the distance.

Another minute passed.

�Look at me Potter,� growled Malfoy, his
voice trembling with frustration.

Harry turned to look at him.

�Say if�,� Malfoy began, pausing to wet his lips.
A bad habit he needed to rid himself of. �Say if I were
to�perhaps�maybe�give you this cup,� he continued hesitantly, �what would
you give me � in return?� Malfoy finished, staring at Harry
fixedly.

�That depends on what you want,� he answered
slowly. �I do not need that cup.� His eyes flickered from Malfoy�s
face to the Horcrux and back. �But you on the other hand-� He pointed his
finger at Malfoy sharply, emphasising his point. �-seem to desperately need
something,� he continued, ignoring the angry strangled noise Malfoy made
in his throat. �What is it that you need,
Malfoy?�

Malfoy stood shaking. Shaking with rage. He looked
as if he were about to have apoplexy.

�I� don�t need anything from you,� he whispered
softly, cuttingly, more effective than if he had shouted. �You are the
one that asked me to come. You. Asked. Me. do you hear me
Potter. I don�t need anything!� he breathed harshly. �Least of all from
you.�

Harry rolled is eyes. His onetime school nemesis
words had banished all doubt away from him. Malfoy definitely wanted something,
but what? What could he possibly have to give that Malfoy wanted.

�If you say so, Malfoy,� he said wearily, �i�ve
changed my mind about this meeting, you may go, I wont arrest you,� he finished
offhandedly before turning back to look at the list in his hand that was now
completely illegible.

Malfoy would not go. He
wouldn�t, he tried to tell himself
feverishly.

�How generous of you,� was spat in
response.

Harry only nodded without looking back up.
Pretended he had forgotten Malfoy�s every existence.

�Alight, alright!� Malfoy cried out bitterly some
moments later. Something in his voice made Harry glance at him.

Malfoy stood back straight, shoulders rigid and a
face pale as milk. His long blond hair stuck to his face in lumps, giving him
the appearance of a drowned cat. The mask he had been holding in his hand was
now unrecognisably rumpled and he was still shaking.

His face looked as if he had taken a bite out of a
lemon; a vein near his temple throbbed dangerously as he closed his eyes and
exhaled deeply, fighting some internal battle.

Shock held Harry in its grasp when he saw the look
in Malfoy�s eyes as they shot open wide.

�What I want in return for this cup,� Malfoy began
in a pained voice, �what I need, Potter is you to give my...� he
swallowed, as if his next words were frenetically struggling to stay in, �my�my
mother Potter, I need you to take my mother to London,� he finished in a
rush.

Harry was dumbstruck, thrown completely off
balance by Malfoy�s words and eyes. He would have expected anything. Anything
but this.

�Your mother,� he repeated numbly, �bring her to
London.�

Malfoy dipped his head in a jerky nod.

�Me,� he started again, �bring your
mother, as in Narcissa Malfoy� to London,� he repeated in confirmation of words
he was sure he had not misheard.

�Yes,� Malfoy hissed, as if the admission burned
his tongue and brought him in a state of near death.

Harry stared at him blankly.

�Protection, Potter,� his mouth curling in
disgust as he spat both words. �In return for this cup I need you to get my
mother out.�

�Out of what!� Harry demanded sceptically. �Did
she find Voldemort�s hospitality unsatisfactory?� he galled, abandoning his cool
composure. He snorted loudly then added, �Not the perfect host she had imagined
him to be?

The skin around Malfoy�s eyes tightened in strain,
to his surprise Malfoy�s cheeks reddened slightly and there went his tongue
again brushing his lips. �That is one way to put it,� he said quietly.� His
voice firmed before he asked, �In return for the cup will you do it, Potter?�

Narrowing his eyes to suspicious slits he answered
brusquely, �No. I will not bring Death Eaters into London, Malfoy. Do you
think I am a complete fool? I will not risk innocent people, cup or no cup.�

He did not mean it; he would risk people if it
meant saving more. Too many years had passed for him to still believe he could
save everyone.

He would bring ten Narcissa Malfoy�s into
London if he had
to. A thousand. If only he could be sure�

�What ever game you are playing at Malfoy, it is
not going to work.�

�It is not a game!� Malfoy�s voice exploded in
frustration. �She is not a Death Eater, do you hear me Potter! She�s nothing
like my father,� he bit out.

�She is� nothing like�like me,� he finished, voice
barely above a whisper.

Malfoy�s angry face crumpled suddenly, his
shoulders slumped dejectedly, the look on his face was pleading and his lustrous
eyes pooled with torment. �Please,� he stammered weakly, �you must�you must get
her out; she needs to go to London.� He started forward, Hufflepuff�s cup
in his arm thrust out ahead of him.

�Take it, please�here, you have to take it,� he
said to Harry, his jaw set in a determined line.

He didn�t know why he agreed. Maybe it was the
beseeching look on Malfoy�s face as he locked eyes with him. Maybe it was the
cold of the metal cup he had sought for so long that was pressed into his palm,
or maybe it was because he realised he didn�t have any other choice.

Whatever the reason, he soon found that �why� was
not important. The outcome to that question would eventually lead to the same
conclusion;

In ten years he had found three. He had the cup,
destroyed the locket and the harp. That left one, only one more to destroy.

He sighed wearily, letting his head rest against
the icy stone of the alleyway, he closed his eyes.

It had not even been necessary for him to ask his
question. Malfoy had unknowingly provided him with the answer by the name of
Narcissa Malfoy. Malfoy would do anything for Narcissa Malfoy.

Anything.

He would make sure of it.

�I am not a monster!� Malfoy had told him before
he had Apparated away.

But he had not replied

Only the rain had.

Nothing but the rain, skulking away through the
cracks of stone as it fell. Fell back into the ground. Until the sun gathered it
up again, high into the sky, only to fall down eventually and be washed
away once more with the nearest storm.

A storm that would come fast and frightening,
carrying secrets that would rip the world apart.
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Redeemed Secrets