The Kiss

The Kiss

When Draco woke the next morning it was to the sounds of the trio making breakfast. The smells that greeted his senses made him realize that it had been his last day at Hogwarts that he had had a decent meal. That was the day Snape killed Dumbledore.

Draco opened his eyes to see Potter, Granger, and Weasley sitting at the small table that sat in the corner, near the bathroom. He sat up and ran his hands through his hair.

Potter looked up at him. "Finally awake?" he asked, obviously still angry.

"What time is it?" Draco asked.

"Nearly nine," Granger answered. "Food?"

Draco, too tired to protest or question, nodded and Granger picked up a plate of food for him.

Draco took the plate with a nod of thanks and began eating. Soon there was nothing left.

"Where are you headed?" Granger asked as she and Potter cleaned up while Weasley took a shower.

"Don't know," Draco answered with a shrug. "Wherever the Death Eaters and Aurors aren't," he said. "Probably up north or out of the country altogether."

"You could come with us," she said.

Draco saw Potter glare at her and he chuckled. "No," he said. "I'm not welcome."

Granger waived her hand dismissively. "We could use another person," she said. "Besides, Harry and Ron aren't nearly as bad as they pretend to be."

"I didn't say it was because of them," Draco said. "I'm not welcome in your little trio. Four is a crowd. Besides, what use would I be to you? I've no money, I'm on the run from everyone, and you lot hate me."

Potter sighed. "Do you really think he can help us?" he asked.

Granger shrugged. "Maybe," she said softly.

Potter sighed again and turned to Draco. "We're looking for a few things," he said. "Hufflepuff's golden chalice, something of Ravenclaw's, and Nagini," he revealed. "Know where any of it is?"

"Nagini?" Draco asked, horrified. "Have you gone bloody mad? What the bloody hell do you want with the Dark Lord's snake?"

"To kill it," Potter said with a shrug. "As for the other three we've got to destroy them."

"What for?" Draco asked.

"It's the only weakness of Voldemort's that we've been able to find. And this is, of course, assuming we've got the right objects."

"And snake," Granger added.

"Helga Hufflepuff's chalice?" Draco asked his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Don't ever touch this, Draco.

Why does it have a badger on it?

It used to belong to Hufflepuff.

He felt his jaw slack in realization.

"Snape," he whispered.

"What?" Potter asked.

"Snape has the chalice," Draco said. "I remember when I was younger he told me not to touch it."

"Where is it now?" Potter asked. "Does he still have it?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, he's got it on display in his house. Right in the front room."

"Where does he live?" Potter asked urgently.

"Spinner's End," Draco answered. "Why? You're not thinking of going to his house are you?" he asked.

"We need that chalice," Potter said firmly. "If that means going to Snape's house, then we're going."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Draco said.

"Why?" Potter asked.

"Because I killed my father at his house," he said. "And some duffer called Wormtail."

"What?" Potter, Granger, and Weasley all asked.

"You know him?" Draco asked.

"He's the man who betrayed my parents," Potter answered. "What was he doing at Snape's?"

"The Dark Lord put him there to keep him out of the way," Draco answered. "Snape agreed because he's only there during the holidays--well, not anymore. I doubt he'll ever get a job again, not now that everyone knows he's still a Death Eater and that he's the one who killed Dumbledore. And if the school's closed...

"Anyway, Snape was on a mission, I'm sure he's finished now. I don't think it's a good idea to go up against him--he's an excellent duelist because of the Legilimens. None of us would stand a chance."

Potter swore and kicked a side table. He sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair. "What about Ravenclaw?" he asked. "Do you know of anything she may have left behind?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really, no," he said. "Have you checked an antiques shop?"

Potter let out a bitter laugh. "What do you think we've been doing lately?" he asked. "We're getting nothing because we're almost positive Voldemort wouldn't have let these things get out like that."

"What is it that you're looking for?"

"Do you know what a Horcrux is?" Potter asked.

Draco shook his head.

"It's an item that holds a piece of a person's soul," he explained. "We have reason to believe that this is why Voldemort is, for lack of a better word, immortal. We think there are seven of them out there. His diary was the first one--I took care of that back in second year--the second was a ring that belonged to his grandfather on his mother's side--the magic side, not the Muggle--and we think that the next three are items that belonged to the four founders. Slytherin's locket--which has already been taken care of--Hufflepuff's chalice, and something of Ravenclaw's."

"What about Gryffindor?"

"The only thing he left behind is a sword that I have in my Gringotts vault," Potter revealed. "We got that out of Hogwarts as soon as we could get into Dumbledore's office. There's actually quite a few things in my vault now..."

"And you think Nagini is another of these Horcruxes?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Potter answered.

"So what's the seventh?"

"Voldemort himself," he answered. "He would have to keep a piece in his own body in order to function."

"So you think that this is how he's keeping himself alive?" Draco asked. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you just helped us out," Potter answered. "And from now on, you're coming with us."

"What?" Draco demanded. "Why?"

"Remember what I said last night?" Granger asked. "You're stuck with us now. We could use the company. And there needs to be two different people to argue all the time now," she said, giving a shy smile to Weasley. Draco saw Harry shake his head slightly.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll join your little party."

They were on the move less than an hour later.

"Why aren't you Apparating?" Draco asked.

"Harry doesn't have his license yet," Granger answered.

"Oh," Draco said softly. "Neither do I," he revealed.

"When do you turn seventeen?" Potter asked.

"July 26," he answered.

Potter froze for a second before he said, "Is the whole bloody world older than I am?"

"No," Granger answered. "Look at Ginny. She's a year younger than you are."

"I meant in our year," Potter answered.

"Seamus is younger than you," Weasley said. "So's Macmillan. And speaking of Ginny, did you ever write her back?"

Potter shook his head. "No, I haven't had time yet," he said. Draco thought he was lying.

"Don't you dare break my sister's heart, Harry," Weasley said strongly.

Potter fell silent and Draco was left to wonder what it was about the Weasley family that made it seem like the whole world was suddenly falling in love with them. Granger was obviously head-over-heals for Weasley and Potter apparently had a thing with his sister. He had heard that the Beauxbatons champion for the Triwizard Tournament was getting married to a Weasley as well.

Were the Weasleys going to become the next Malfoys only poorer and nicer?

And how was it that they had seven children when they couldn't even afford them?

"Why don't we go out to the Ministry on the first of August to get your licenses?" Granger asked.

"Because you're running with a fugitive now," Draco said simply. "You three can go, but I can't."

The four of them walked into Diagon Alley the morning of August first--much to Draco's discomfort--and saw that it was completely deserted. On every building window and door they could see the same face looking out at them under a curtain of black, greasy hair.

"It's just like Hogsmeade after Sirius escaped," Granger said softly as the four of them walked over to the nearest Wanted poster.

"Except this time they've got the right man they're after," Potter said. "'Wanted for the murder of Headmaster Dumbledore,'" he read. "They're offering ten-thousand galleons to the wizard with any information."

"Look!" Granger gasped. "He's also wanted for the murders of Lucius Malfoy and...Peter Petigrew."

"I thought everyone thought he was already dead," Weasley said confused.

"This means..."

"Sirius is finally innocent," Potter finished. His voice was thick with emotion and Draco wondered if he would soon be seen with a blubbering idiot. He rolled his eyes skyward and turned to a bench that was sitting in front of the shop.

He sat heavily and sighed. "When you three are done examining the poster, wake me up," he said as he lay on his back.

His words seemed to bring the trio back to their senses. "Right," Potter said sharply. "Get up," he said to Draco. "Let's go."

The four of them walked up to Gringotts bank and were greeted with a closed sign.

"Until further notice?" Granger asked as she read the sign. "What's going on?"

"Everything is closed due to the war," said a voice from behind them. "Would have thought you lot knew about that."

The four of them turned to see Fred and George Weasley standing behind them. "We saw you walking," he said. "Thought we'd come to see what was up."

"What are you doing here?" Fred asked. "Aren't you on some mission or something?"

Potter nodded. "Apparation license," he said. "I turned seventeen yesterday."

"What are you doing here?" George asked. "Tests are at the Ministry."

"We need the Galleons," Potter answered. "Why is everything closed?"

"The war," Fred answered. "No one wants to stay open. Haven't you been reading the Prophet? There's been an attack a day ever since Dumbledore was killed. No one thinks that there's any chance to stop the war now," he said. "Even if the Chosen One is still kicking."

"Come on," George said. "It's not safe out in the open. You guys can stay with us until tomorrow but then we're going to have to kick you out."

Potter turned to the three of them. They nodded.

"Wait," Fred said. "What is he doing with you?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Draco.

"He's helping us," Potter answered. "He had information that we needed and now we're all traveling together."

"He's not welcome," the twins said together. "But you three are."

Draco sighed. "Go on," he said. "I'll find a rock to climb under."

"No," Potter said. "That's not right. Ron, Hermione, you go if you want, I'll stay with Malfoy."

The two of them nodded and followed Fred and George to their joke shop. They looked back just before they walked in. The sound of the bells on the door was the only sound.

"Why did you do that?" Draco asked. "Why didn't you just go with them?"

"Because you don't deserve what people put you through," he answered softly, walking slowly down the steps. "Come on," he said. "Maybe Tom will give us a room for the night."

When Potter and Draco walked into the Leaky Cauldron, it was to find it as empty as Diagon Alley. Potter sighed and walked up to the walnut-faced Tom and asked him for a room.

"I'm booked but for one room, Harry," he said wearily. "I've never been this busy, but no one wants to go very far and most of the store owners have decided to set up camp here until they feel safe to open up shop again."

"Can we have your last room?" Potter asked, just as weary as Tom.

"It's a single," he said. "The bed's small."

Harry shook his head slightly and sighed heavily. "We need a place to stay until tomorrow," he said. "It doesn't matter what kind of room it is."

Tom nodded. "Alright," he said. He reached under the counter and gave Harry a key. "Room 119," he said. "Very top."

Potter let out a weak chuckle. "It has to be the top, doesn't it?" he asked.

Tom chuckled. "Sorry," he said.

Potter collapsed on the bed when they finally reached the room. Draco inwardly chuckled. None of the four had been sleeping very well and he doubted that tonight would be any different.

"Do you think the Ministry's open?" Draco asked as he sat down at the table near the window.

Potter shook his head. "Not to the public anyway," he said in a soft voice. "But otherwise I'm sure Scrimgeour is keeping it open to keep the fight going. He's probably got the Aurors working overtime and everyone else working away from their normal jobs. I'm sure the Department of Secrecy is working extra hard in order to keep the war from the Muggles," he said reasonably as he began to untie his boots. "Personally, I'd hate to be a part of the Order or the Ministry."

"Order?"

"The actual fight against Voldemort isn't coming from the Ministry, it's coming from the Order of the Phoenix. It's an underground resistance Dumbledore formed while he was alive. This is actually the second time it's been called into service--the first was during the first war. My parents were a part of the first Order."

"Is that why the Dark Lord went after them?"

"He went after them because Snape told him about a prophecy that he heard Trelawney making the year before I was born. That prophecy actually could have been for two different people, but it's not. Voldemort chose me for who knows what reason. Maybe it's because I'm the most like him. Half blood and all."

"Half blood?" Draco asked. "The Dark Lord isn't half blood."

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "Oh yes he is," he said darkly. "He hates Muggles so much because his father was one. The man left his mother when she stopped drugging him with love potions. When his mother died, he was forced to live in a Muggle orphanage When Dumbledore told him about magic and that he was going to go to a school for people like him, he studied harder than any other student. He was Head Boy, Prefect, he got an award for special services done to the school and all that other bullshit people who are trying to worm their way to the top do. He's the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty-five years ago. His mother was a descendant of Slytherin's. The girl that died--the Muggle born that died--is Moaning Myrtle."

"She is?" Draco asked. He suddenly remembered something that had been cloudy from the time it had happened. His eyes narrowed on Potter. "You almost killed me," he said softly.

Potter shifted slightly, nervously. "Not on purpose, I can assure you," he said softly.

"What curse did you use?" Draco asked sharply.

"One of Snape's," Potter confessed. "I didn't know what it would do."

"You used a curse that you didn't know the effect of?" Draco asked, appalled. "How thick are you?"

"I'm sorry," Potter said strongly. "I made a mistake. I should have tested it before I used it in an actual fight. And you can believe I'm never going to use it again."

"Why?" Draco asked. "It's a powerful curse. It would be great in a fight against a Death Eater. They wouldn't see it coming. I didn't see it coming and I'm working at becoming a Legilimens. Or at least, I was. I haven't been doing much of anything recently, except for following you three around like a lost puppy. And even that I don't understand."

"You're with us because it keeps you from being sent to Azkaban," Potter said, lying back on the bed. Draco's eyes were suddenly drawn from his face down his neck and along his body, taking in every tiny detail from the way his shirt fell loosely about him and his arms tucked under his head to his long legs and holey socks.

"Sometimes I wonder which is less appealing," Draco found himself saying. "Being locked up in Azkaban, or..." he forced his voice to die as he realized what he was about to say. Or being kept away from you, he silently finished.

"Or?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "Nothing," he said softly, his eyes locking on to Harry's. There was no way he was about to let himself say what he had thought.

Harry sighed and looked at his watch. "It's only noon," he said softly. "Do you want lunch?"