The Prophecy of Absconditus

Chapter Twelve: Hideout C

Leiss watched Ron stuff his face to maximum capacity with the rolls, butter, and leftover soup. Draco ate at his leisure, taking his time to savor in the experience. Night and day. Fire and ice. Draco and Ron, one patient and calculating, the other rash and bold. Even as an estranged acquaintance to Draco and little more than a professor to Ron, she saw how easily they attracted the other like opposite ends of a magnet.

"Hungry?"

Ron grunted, nodded, and said something indistinguishable that caused flecks of food to fly from the corners of his mouth. Turning up his nose and curling his upper lip, Draco dropped his roll and touched his napkin to his lips.

"That is disgusting."

"I'm hungry," said Ron, swallowing.

"You eat like a savage."

"I'm hungry."

"Yes, Malfoy. He's hungry," said Harry. Draco scowled.

"I don't recall --"

"Now let's go on with it, shall we?" said Leiss. "I don't want to send a return messenger to Phoenix explaining why I haven't traded stories with you yet. If you thought his friends are exempt from his lectures, you'd be very wrong."

"I sympathize," said Draco. "Yes, let's get on with it. You wouldn't be the only one listening to lectures."

"Then I think a few reintroductions are in order, and I propose that we get everything we know out in the open rather than sitting in the dark, wondering what the other one knows. I suppose a few explanations will not go amiss, either. The four of you should know me as Professor Leiss, but once again I ask that you all call me Rebekah. It will make things much less formal, and right now, formality is the least of our worries.

"As the four of you also know, I am a Keeper from an American circle. How I came to work at Hogwarts is quite an epic involving a power trip by the late Lucius Malfoy and my being a Seer. We won't go into that, however. The story is far too long and we have far too little time."

"Then stop wasting it. We know who you bloody are. We know each other. What is the point of this?"

"Draco, keep your tongue, honestly. I've never met anyone who runs their mouth like you do."

"What about my brother?"

"The one exception and you manage to pull it out."

"What brother?" said Harry.

"Here we go again," said Draco.

"Remember Professor Valmont?" said Leiss. "That's him. But for the purpose of our quest, all professors will be referred to by their first names, so catch on quickly."

"And if Phoenix mentions a Sevvie, he's talking about Snape."

"Sevvie," said Leiss, grinning. Draco shook his head.

"Wait. Valmont is your brother?"

"And former heir of the Malfoy family fortune. Now he spends his time teaching at Hogwarts, driving Snape mad, and telling me to respect my peers. He also holds a deep desire to smack me around like he feels an elder brother should. Hogwarts policy against corporeal punishment has prevented such an action, but now that we're off the grounds, he feels I've done nothing to merit such actions. He's quite disappointed."

"Sounds like the Phoenix Malfoy I know."

"Good God, Rebekah, don't call him that. His ears are incredibly sensitive. He probably heard that horrible breach on his discrepancy from Hideout B and is on his way to box your ears in."

"Yeah? Well I'd like to see him try."

"What were you saying about wasting time?" said Blaise.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I got sidetracked. Talking about Phoenix tends to do that to people.

"To start, we arrived at Grimmauld Place on Halloween. It's safe here, of course, for the time being, but as Dumbledore is Secret Keeper and in Death Eater clutches, we've been thinking about relocation. For the time being, though, there's nowhere else to go."

"I was here already," said Blaise. "Then Harry showed up. I don't know. We didn't spend a lot of time together until Rebekah told us. He was holed up in his room most of the time."

"Brooding," said Leiss.

"Because of Sirius?" said Ron, pausing in his foray of edible solids. Harry nodded. "Sorry, mate."

"I'm fine now. Just that the first few days were difficult."

"The thing was," said Rebekah, "Phoenix and Sev appointed me as messenger to Harry and Blaise. I don't know either one, and now I have to sit them down somehow and tell them that they're each one-fourth of the Mages of Absconditus, and that entire wizarding legend depicts them as the saviors of our world. Deliver us from evil, forever and ever, amen.

"Blaise was one thing. The entire Zabini family -- well --"

"We're a bunch of drunkards and so telling me I'm a Mage is like handing me redemption on a silver platter."

"Right, but telling Harry --"

"Was like telling the savior, 'You're still special, but even more so.' It's complicated because I'm already looked to, which can be a good or bad thing. It adds to the pressure, but I'm already something of a savior, so it's like not much has changed. In short, I'm a mess, and unpredictable, and could go off at any moment."

"Harry --" said Blaise. Harry shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back into his chair, refusing to look up. Ron hated it when he brewed like this. At least he wasn't yelling.

"Right," said Rebekah. "Anyhow, I didn't know how to go about this. How does one casually bring something like that up in conversation? So I did what I do best and abandoned all tact."

"It went something like, 'Harry, Blaise, you're Mages. Now go find Absconditus and be good little boys while you're doing it,'" said Blaise.

"We've been able to bond over it, though," said Harry. "Mrs. Black thinks both Blaise and I are filthy vermin of the wizarding world, though for very different reasons. We're both Mages, and I know this is going to sound strange, but --"

"You remember it back then? Somehow you started gathering all these memories from a life you're certain wasn't a part of this one?" said Ron. Harry nodded.

"Exactly. I remember Blaise -- as Lorenzo of course --"

"How much do you know?"

Draco glanced between Ron and Harry, finally landing on Leiss. She shrugged, sipped at her tea, and stared down into the cup.

"What do you mean?"

"We learned a few things about the Mages and Absconditus in class with Phoenix, but how much did she elaborate? You clearly know who's who."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out," said Blaise. "The Meraks were a bunch of drunks, too."

"We gathered that much. Did you learn about the heirs? How we're technically descendants of ourselves? About the curses?"

"Yes. I mean, it took a few times to sink in," said Harry. "The first time Rebekah explained the Prophecy, I got as far as I'm involved in another prophecy that I have no control over."

"What?"

"I'll explain in a moment. Then, the second time, I got as far as Blaise, you, and Malfoy being Mages, too, which isn't so bad for me because at least I'm not on my own in this one. The third time, I got as far as hearing I was the girl before I recuperated enough for Rebekah to continue. Eventually I heard the whole story."

"And what a story it is," said Draco. "Had a hard time believing it myself."

"You aren't the only one."

"What was this about another prophecy, Potter? Getting a lot of time on the psychic network, are you?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "What is this about another prophecy?"

Harry bit his lip and looked to Blaise. Sweeping an arm, Blaise motioned for Harry to continue with his right hand while the left disappeared under the table. Ron wasn't sure why, but the urge to look under the table and prove they were holding hands almost took him over. But why shouldn't they be? They had been together before, and Ron and Draco . . . well, that was a door that was just going to have to wait for a later date.

"Remember when we were in the Department of Mysteries," said Harry. Ron nodded. "The weapon -- the prophecy --"

"Yeah, but it got smashed."

"Yeah, but a prophecy has to be made, doesn't it? And it has to be told to someone. That thing in the Department of Mysteries was only a copy. Dumbledore told me the whole thing right after it all happened."

"You've known all this time?"

"I wasn't ready to talk about it. Don't have much of a choice now."

"No one's making you tell --"

"I already told Blaise. Would be rude to keep it from you." Harry sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "It was Trelawney, you know? The one who made the Prophecy. Her first true prediction and it was about me."

"Well that's ironic considering she hasn't made a true prophecy about you since."

Taking a deep breath, Harry rolled off what Dumbledore told him some one and a half years ago, about how he was the only one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord, about how he must either be a victim of Voldemort's or his murderer. He spoke about how it could have been Neville all along, but that Voldemort marked Harry instead.

"Your gift," said Draco after a long pause of silence. Four heads turned in his direction, but Draco stared at Harry as if no one else was in the room. "No one's ever been able to figure out what Hero Veriatice's gift was. It's been lost in the record books. The only thing anyone can find from documentation is strength, but what does that mean? No historian's ever figured it out. But if you're the only one who can defeat him . . . I mean, come on. A power the Dark Lord knows not?"

"But what is it?" said Blaise. Draco jumped, looking to Blaise as though he had never seen him before.

"Dumbledore said something about . . . my heart? Because I know how to love, and Voldemort . . ."

"Well you've certainly got that one over him," said Draco. "Though I don't think that's fair. I'm sure Voldemort knows how to love . . . himself. And, you know, that basilisk Father used to go on about."

"Yes, he was terribly upset when I killed it," said Harry, giving Draco a wry smile.

"Just trying to lighten the mood. You're all so terribly gloomy."

The corners of Ron's mouth perked up as he glanced at Draco off to the side. His eyes met Harry's across the table and Ron jerked his shoulders in a slight shrug.

"I don't understand what our jobs are here," said Harry, looking to Leiss. "If there's four of us, and we're all Mages, but I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort . . ."

"I'm going to have to learn to say his name, aren't I?" said Ron.

"I'm afraid so," said Leiss.

"I thought you were going to say that. Shame. Don't see what the use is."

"Can someone answer my question?" said Harry.

"I don't know what to tell you. All I've gathered is that you have to go into Absconditus and activate that fountain. Voldemort's strength is fully regained and then some. He's surpassed where he was before you escaped him the first time. We know that you're ability to care is the key to his destruction, but we have nothing else, and I think you'd have a much better chance of defeating him in battle --"

"But how are we supposed to find this place?"

"I don't know."

"Then why did you even tell us about this in the first place?"

"Harry --" said Blaise, his hand brushing the mess of Harry's hair out of his eyes. Harry turned his cheek away, frowning, and caught Ron's eye from across the table. They were a darker green than Ron was accustomed to; bloodshot, little red veins splashed across white.

"I don't understand. Why are we expected to figure this out when no one else has ever been able to do it? Like I don't have enough to deal with already, you've got to go and throw this on my plate. I've had enough. I don't want to do this anymore."

"I'm going to go to bed. I think you four have a lot to talk about without me in the room. You can fill me in on anything discussed tomorrow." Leiss rose to her feet and crossed to the doorway. "Feel free to rage about me. I'm sure I deserve it."

Leiss left, passing out of the room and heading upstairs, avoiding the troll leg umbrella stand with a grace that Tonks never possessed. It was a good thing, too. The last thing they needed at this moment was Mrs. Black's screeching.

"Harry --" said Ron.

"I'm okay." His jaw clenched, Harry sat upright and drew his arms into his lap. Blaise sighed, resting an arm on the table and facing Harry. Glancing over at Ron and Draco, he shook his head and turned his eyes downcast.

"No, you aren't."

"Yes, I am."

"Harry, why is it that you think you can't ever have a breakdown? You're only human. I'm about ready to have a screaming fit myself."

"Because nothing is going to happen while we're feeling sorry for ourselves."

"I don't know about you, but I plan on sleeping tonight, and nothing's going to happen then," said Draco. "I mean, while I'm sleeping, I'm sure you could have a breakdown. Then we can conserve time and I can get in much needed rest. They drive us like slave laborers at Hideout B. I once broke out in a sweat."

"That's Draco's dysfunctional way of telling you that you're only human, and warrant the right to go crazy once in a while," said Ron.

"But all I'm going to do is complain about how I don't want to do this, but then I'd be lying, because I do. I don't want to die, and it's kill or be killed. I don't have many options."

"You don't have to complain about how you don't want to do this. You can complain about how you got stuck being the woman," said Draco. Ron elbowed him just below the ribs, causing Draco to howl and shoot a glare in Ron's direction. Smirking, Ron shrugged.

"I was almost proud of you there, Malfoy," said Harry. "You went a long time without mentioning it. When Rebekah told me you were one of the Mages, I was certain I would never stop hearing about it."

"Draco's reformed," said Ron. "Sort of."

"Scared straight is more like it," said Draco.

"But that's beside the point," said Blaise. "So what did Valmont -- Phoenix -- what did he tell you?"

"The basics. Explained our family history. How we came from the twins, though I knew the story already," said Ron. "Told us how Draco and I could be descendants of Salazar Slytherin, and yet have You-Know-Who be the last remaining heir."

"We talked about how Voldemort is the black sheep of the Weasley clan," said Draco. "Honestly, if you would just invite him to family reunions, maybe he wouldn't want to kill you."

"He's your family, too. You're just as related to him as I am."

"Now that's not fair. Malfoys don't have family reunions."

"I keep forgetting your families are related," said Harry. "It's weird to think."

"We're something like third cousins, twice removed, by marriage. And that's just one relation. The Malfoy and Weasley families are so inbred we should have hooves and a tail."

"That's a beautiful picture, Draco," said Ron.

"It's true. All purebloods are inbred. When you're only marrying purebloods, your choices become very limited. Some entire lines die out because of it. Or become shameful to admit your relation to. Ron and I probably have cousins in the jungles of Africa."

"As long as they're pureblood," said Ron, "but we won't go into the true nature of my family."

"What's wrong with your family?" said Harry.

"The Weasleys are more hypocritical than the Malfoys," said Draco.

"That's only because everyone knows the Malfoys are corrupt and my family pretends we aren't," said Ron.

"Your family isn't corrupt," said Harry.

"My immediate family, no, but you've never met my extended family. We're considered blood traitors because we associate with Muggle-borns, but no self-respecting Weasley is actually supposed to marry one. Disgusting, really. As you've probably guessed, my parents aren't big on that one, but I'd really rather not talk about my family."

"We could talk about the Potters and how they aren't even human," said Draco. Harry glared at him.

"I've heard enough about that from Mrs. Black and Kreacher to last me a lifetime."

"And to be fair, the Potters are human. It's just that the first known one was raised by furies. Harry doesn't have fury blood in him."

"It's funny, though. Potter's a descendent from himself as a woman and his baby raised by furies."

"Because being part veela is so much better."

"And the big secret of the Malfoy charm is out," said Blaise.

"You're right. Let's move on to something else," said Draco.

"No, let's stay there for a second longer," said Harry. "First, what do you mean that being part veela is so much better?"

"The Malfoys have veela in them," said Ron.

"It's several generations back," said Draco.

"But it's there."

"All right," said Harry. "Now -- er -- well, going back to me being a descendent of my baby . . ."

"I already know there was nothing between Hero and Ryan," said Ron. "You aren't the only one with memories from our life in Absconditus. I even had a vision of Hero telling me she was pregnant."

"Good," said Harry. "I was worried about that one. Because, I don't know, it's weird. I have these memories of being Hero, and I'm not sure if I even like her. To top that off, she's said to have been in a relationship with Ryan, and I'm certain we were just friends. She -- well --"

"Was with Lorenzo?"

"Yeah. How --"

"Ron's creepy," said Draco. "It's that foresight thing. He knows everything."

"I had a vision of Hero telling me about the baby, remember? That's how I knew, though I probably would have remembered it anyway."

"Right. Well -- er -- see, because we have memories from that time, you know, I said I recognized Blaise as Lorenzo. I remember him. Now that I know, I remember you, too, and even Malfoy, though I still have no friendly feelings."

"Let us hope you never do," said Draco.

"What Harry's trying to say is that we're together," said Blaise. "It was weird how it happened. We were talking about being Mages and about remembering the past lives and then, I don't know. I was hit with this overwhelming desire to hold him and --"

"He kissed me," Harry said.

"We just wanted to let you know. We didn't want to hide it."

"I don't know what to say to that," said Ron. "I mean, it's fine by me. I have no problems with it. Draco?"

"What do I have to complain about? It's not up to me who Potter and Zabini shag."

"You know," said Blaise, "we still have a lot to talk about. Like visions, what we're going to do."

"Eager to change the topic?" said Ron. Blaise grinned. "I have no plans. Anyone?"

"Find Absconditus?" said Draco.

"And how do we go about doing that?" said Blaise.

"Maybe we should leave this for tomorrow," said Ron. "Draco and I have been traveling all day, and we didn't get a very good night's sleep last night since Mundungus was run off by the ministry for dealing in illegal trade again. I'm exhausted, and even if I had a plan for finding Absconditus, I couldn't make out the words to tell it to you."

"I'm tired myself," said Blaise. "Okay. I say we all go to bed and reconvene tomorrow afternoon. Take the morning off. You've had quite the trip."

"Damn right we have," said Draco. Blaise ignored him as they stood and left the room, heading for the staircase.

They mounted and climbed to the first floor. Harry turned off to the left and Blaise motioned to the stairs.

"Ron, your mum made you two a room up on the next floor. Second door on the right."

"Thanks, Blaise," said Ron. Draco yawned and leaned against the banister. "See you in the morning."

"Good night."

Blaise turned and headed in the direction Harry had gone. Ron didn't stay to watch, climbing the stairs with Draco close behind. Finding his way to the room, Ron walked in and flopped on a bed as the door shut behind Draco.

"Suppose we aren't the only ones who couldn't deny previous decisions," said Draco. Ron stared up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and rubbed at the lids with the pads of his thumbs. "Are we going to tell them about us?"

"What about us? There's nothing to us."

"Then I must have imagined us shagging last night," said Draco. "I'm certain that's something."

"I'm tired, Draco. Can we please talk about this in the morning?"

"Depends. Can I sleep with you tonight or are we using separate beds now?"

Opening his eyes at Draco's words, Ron turned his head to find Draco standing by the door. He groaned at the cold glare Draco pinned him with, dropped his head back to the bed, and rubbed his forehead.

"I never said you couldn't. I just didn't tell them about us because I don't know what we are yet. Besides, I didn't want to just spring it on Harry without warning."

"Potter was very clear on the subject of his memories, why he's so attracted to Zabini. Perhaps it's just me, but I thought that perhaps we should have been as well. I'm not the most trustworthy person. It's not best to start this twisted relationship with lies."

"Is that what you're on about? Draco, don't worry. Harry isn't going to care that we didn't tell him right away, and they're going to learn to trust you. They're already affected by their memories, and they trusted Bade. Just give them time. I didn't trust you right away."

"I didn't say . . . Let's just go to bed."

Ron nodded, rolled over, and pulled the sheets back. Without bothering to undress, he climbed under the covers and made room by his side. Draco hung by the door, watching Ron, and discarded his shirt before sliding in.

"Don't go to bed mad at me," said Ron.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm confused and frustrated."

"With me?"

"With myself. The whole ordeal. I think Potter's got the right idea. I really don't want to do this anymore and we haven't even started. If they couldn't help us, why did they even tell us about this in the first place?"

"I don't know. Let's just get some sleep. We'll worry about it in the morning."

*

"Oh, Ron, Ginny told me you got in last night."

Wobbling into the kitchen, Ron still wasn't seeing straight when he was mauled by someone who he could only guess to be his mother.

"Mum?"

"I've been so worried! There's been hardly any word from Hideout B, and then Rebekah told us all about this Prophecy . . . Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm having a hard time breathing."

"Why's that?"

"You're squishing me."

"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, releasing Ron and taking a step back. "Are you hungry? I made breakfast. Harry and Hermione are already eating and I'm sure they'd love your company."

"Yeah, mum. Sure. Thanks."

Ron wandered over to the table, dropped next to Hermione, and looked between his friends.

"Who told my mum about the Prophecy?"

"Rebekah. Me. Blaise. Everyone here knows. It's all we've been talking about. It was funny at first. Fred and George dropped by and when they heard it, they claimed they always knew you weren't a true Weasley. Did you know that you're too hot-tempered to be a Weasley? You're also a snob."

"My brothers said I'm a snob?"

"They said they weren't surprised you were a prince because you certainly act like it," said Hermione. "I think it was a joke, but I never know when the twins are being sincere."

"How's Malfoy?" said Harry.

"Why?"

"He seemed different last night."

"Was it really horrible living with him?" said Hermione. "We can move your room if you'd like."

"No," said Ron. "It's fine. Draco's . . . he's a good guy. Misguided sometimes, but we've become friends over the past couple of days. It wasn't horrible living with him at all. He's . . . I think if you give him a chance, you'll learn to like him, too."

Mrs. Weasley placed a plate before Ron, piles of hot food still steaming.

"You look like you don't know what to do with real food anymore," said Draco, walking into the kitchen. He still wore yesterday's dirty robes, but only the bottom was visible. The large quilt from the unused bed in their room lay around Draco's shoulders. Sitting next to Ron, he buried his face in his arm and sneezed.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"I was hungry."

"You poor dear," said Mrs. Weasley, feeling the back of Draco's head. "I think you've caught fever."

"I told you not to jump in that lake in the middle of November."

"I was dirty."

"And now you're sick."

"I'm not si --" said Draco, but a sneeze cut him off.

"You should be in bed," said Mrs. Weasley. "Go on. Back upstairs. I'll bring you some juice and start on a soup. I'll have Remus dig up a potion. You'll be better again in no time."

"Thank you, but I'll be fine," said Draco, sneezing.

"I won't take no for an answer."

"She really won't," said Ron.

"When did you jump into a lake?" said Hermione. Ron looked to her, frowning. "I'm curious."

"So am I," said Harry.

"Nosy boy, Harry Potter. Wants to know everything. Poor Kreacher. If Mistress only knew, wretched Malfoy vermin in her house."

Ron looked past Draco to see Kreacher emerge from his "bedroom," muttering under his breath like he so often did. Letting the quilt drop a little from around his shoulders, Draco's eyes found the house elf. They narrowed, lids eclipsing blue.

"You," said Draco.

Hermione pretended not to notice Draco's reaction toward Kreacher. Ever since Kreacher's blatant lie to Harry about Sirius, Hermione wasn't as keen on the old house elf. In fact, Ron saw her eyeing the mounted house elf heads almost longingly the last time they were here, though she still went on about S.P.E.W. whenever down in the Hogwarts kitchens.

The last time Ron saw Kreacher bow so strange and low it had been back when Sirius was alive. Draco was having none of it, though, and as soon as Kreacher's nose came close to touching the ground, Draco grabbed him by his filthy rag and dragged him upright.

"Stop pretending you respect me. If you bow like that again, I'm going to box your ears in. You stay out of my sight while I'm here, you understand?"

"Kreacher understands. Nasty Malfoy brat, blood traitor. Mistress --"

"I don't care about you Mistress. Are you daft? Now go back to your little den and stay there for the rest of the day. I don't care if you wanted to go visit your dear Mistress and cry by her portrait."

Kreacher started to walk back to the boiler cupboard as Draco released another loud sneeze into the quilt. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley each stared at him in turn, and Draco looked up from the blanket, frowning.

"What? I hate that thing. Think it's high time someone beheads him, too. Would make his dream come true. Be the high point of his miserable life. Honestly. Spent Christmas Day at the manor two years ago. Had more of him than I could stand. I almost missed Dobby."

Harry made a strange, strangled cough at the mention of Dobby, and Ron caught the small grin that spread across Harry's lips. Mrs. Weasley, however, was now bearing down on Draco, pouring juice down his throat and pulling him out of his seat.

"That's enough excitement for this morning," she said, dragging him.

"I'm capable of fighting through the day," said Draco as he disappeared into the hall. "Please don't make me stay in bed."

"He doesn't have a prayer," said Ron, grinning. "Once my mum gets an idea in her head, there's no stopping her."

"I have work to do today, so I hope you'll excuse me," said Hermione, standing.

"See you later."

Hermione gave a small wave and left Harry sitting across from Ron in silence. For a few seconds, Ron picked at his bacon, which had gone cold over the course of breakfast events. It was just as well. Ron's stomach would probably explode from a good, warm breakfast after all those bowls of porridge at Hideout B. Still, a sinking sensation set in his stomach and Ron threw the bacon back on the plate.

"What's wrong?"

"It's cold."

"I'm surprised you didn't eat it right away. Your eating habits seemed perfectly normal last night."

"Yeah, but I was walking all day and listening to Draco whine. I was starving. And, I don't know, that was bread and broth. I'm getting used to bread and broth, but there was still steam on that food. I was in awe and confusion."

"I don't get it."

"You weren't eating meals at Hideout B."

"That bad?"

"Half the food was unrecognizable and the rest of it was going bad. Or it was porridge. Damn Snape and his tasteless meals."

"What are you planning for today?"

"I don't know. I'll have to visit Draco and see how he's doing. I think he's already upset with me. It would not bode well if I didn't put in an appearance."

"He seemed fine with you last night."

"We passed words when it was time for bed. I think I may have done something I shouldn't have. Said something that was better left unsaid. That sort of thing. You know, what I do best. Then again, he was very sensitive about something trivial."

"Don't give me sensitive. Blaise keeps telling me I'm too sensitive about things."

"Don't let Draco hear that. He'll blame it on your gender crisis, and I'll be forced to reprimand him. I really hate doing that so spare me some pain."

"I'll try."

"Thanks."

"Ron, you aren't eating."

Mrs. Weasley was back, peering over Ron's shoulder at the cold food.

"I ate a little. How's Draco?"

"I put him back in bed. He's to stay there for the rest of the day. Coughing himself into a fit. Poor dear. I'm sending Remus out for something. Do drop by later and let him know you aren't having a fabulous time with your friends while he's stuck in bed."

"Who says I won't be having a fabulous time with my friends?"

"Because the drawing room needs dusting."

"More cleaning? Every time I'm here there's cleaning that needs to be done."

"Do you think a house keeps itself clean on its own?"

"When it has a house elf, it should."

"If we don't take care of this place, it's going to get just as bad as it was before. Unless you want to de-doxyify again, I suggest you get moving."

Staying silent until she left, Ron grinned at Harry from across the table.

"Good to know she's realized there's no need to fawn over me anymore. Suppose my welcome party is over."

"Right. Come on," said Harry, standing.

Ron followed as they headed out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. The walls were still a hideous shade of olive green, but the tapestries were new, fresh, and an ivory color that complimented the walls. A sneaky suspicion suggested that it was his mum behind this transformation. The sofas and chairs were cleaned, and unlike when he had been part of the aforementioned doxy party, they looked strong enough to support human life.

"Not much needs to be done," said Harry. "The Order's kept good care of everything. Just a little dusting on the side tables and the desk."

Nodding, Ron grabbed a rag from a pile on the sofa. He supposed his mum left them there at a previous occasion to commemorate his arrival. Most of the ten minutes he spent dusting was on one table, polishing to perfection as Harry rushed through as much as he could.

Dropping the cloth, Ron walked over to one of the windows and peered outside. People passed along Grimmauld Place, and the door slammed downstairs.

"Kingsley's here," said Ron. "Just saw him come in."

"Haven't seen him in a while," said Harry. He paused, wringing the rag through his fingers, and then he turned away again. "Ron? What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"I don't . . . You're different. You're acting different."

"I've been acting different for a long time. Maybe you just didn't notice."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I have noticed. Ever since you were made prefect fifth year you've been acting different, but . . . This is different."

"Was that supposed to make sense?"

"Yes. You're acting different again."

Ron shrugged. "I'm on a down swing. Everything's been complete chaos for the past couple of days. Yesterday was the first day in a while that I didn't get a vision. Snape treated me like I would combust if I did too much after one, and now they aren't even there. Apparently I'm a Mage and I have to find Absconditus. Don't ask me how I plan on going about that one. And Draco --"

"None of us know what we plan on doing about this Absconditus thing."

"I think Draco has a few ideas, but he's holding back."

"Why?"

"Because he's the outcast. Back then, it was because he was Bade Mizar, bastard child. Now, it's because he's Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. I mean, you and I are in this together, and I can't say I'm surprised. Blaise shies away from most people, but you seem to be hitting it off without much of an effort. Draco --"

"I get it. He's been annoying me for years. You've been his enemy since you met. Blaise is in his house and doesn't even like him. He's outnumbered."

"Unfamiliar territory. I'd probably cry if you threw me in a group of Death Eaters and told me to play nice. Not only that, but I don't have much of a choice if I want to live."

"No one's making Malfoy stay here."

"I can tell it may be awhile until you begin to understand Draco."

"And you do."

"Better than you. Draco wants to be here, but he's outnumbered, and for someone who's used to being the front man, it's unsettling. The only one who he has on his side is me, and you're my best mate. Besides, like I said, I think I said something I shouldn't have last night."

"You scare me when you get close to philosophical."

"Believe me, my head hurts." Ron wandered across the room, standing before the most noble and ancient tapestry of the House of Black. It really was ugly. Shame they couldn't find a way to reverse the Permanent Sticking charm on it, especially after all those hideous holes Mrs. Black burned into it. Scanning the bottom, Ron laughed, and Harry wandered over to his side.

"What's so funny?"

"Looks like Lucius and Narcissa never had children."

Ron watched as Harry's eyes scanned the tapestry, found the name Narcissa Black, and noticed that where Draco's name had been the last time, there was a large gash.

"Kreacher," said Harry. Ron nodded.

"Draco needs to see this. He'll love it." Ron slid one finger in the hole, and the other slid into the gash next to it. "Phoenix and Draco, reduced to nothing more than ugly space on the family tree."

"You think Malfoy would want to see this?"

"I think he'd get his kicks from it, yes. There's nothing that quite makes those Malfoy brothers happy like knowing they've been despised and disowned by the rest of the family. Phoenix loves it so much that he changed his surname."

"Excuse me for saying so, but there's something wrong with that picture."

"No need to be excused. I'm well aware, but it doesn't change the truth." Ron paused, staring hard at the space where Draco's name should be, and slid his finger out of the hole. "I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"You know how last night you told me about having memories? That you remembered Blaise from back then?"

"Yeah."

"Do you hate that? Feeling like your actions are controlled by a life that isn't yours?"

"Yeah. It's like, I have feelings for Blaise, but I question them because they came out of nowhere, and they only started after I remembered. I hate that I'm following on these instincts, but I hate that I question it, too, because I do have feelings for him."

Ron nodded. "I understand. I feel like I have two instincts: mine and Ryan's. The scary thing is I'm starting to forget which is mine."

"I know what you mean. I really hate Hero. I hate her, and I don't know why. And why? I don't -- why did this have to happen to me? Why change me like this?"

"Someone must really not want you with Blaise. Maybe they have a crush on him and wanted to get you out of the way."

"Lot of good that did. I made sure I roped him in anyway."

"Listen, I don't know how to say this, but last night when we were talking, I left a few things out. I know I was supposed to fill in the holes and be honest and all that, but . . . I don't know. I was selective about what I told you and what I left out."

"What did you leave out?"

"The reason I knew there was never anything more than friendship between Hero and Ryan is because Ryan was in love with someone else. And it's coming back at me just as strongly as it was before."

Harry opened his mouth, hesitated, and shut it again. He looked at Ron hard, giving the other boy no choice but to meet his eye or keep his focus on the ground, because looking anywhere else was not an option.

"Draco?"

"I don't know what's going on between us. One day we were fighting, I had a vision, and then I found out he was Bade. Ever since we started school again, I've been getting visions as Ryan. And every time I get one . . . It freaked me out at first. Bade kissing me, not knowing who I was, but I fell in love with him, and then I found out it was Malfoy. And I was properly repulsed and terrified for awhile.

"I don't know how it happened. Draco came to me. He's been sleeping in my bed ever since we found out. We don't acknowledge it much. But then . . . something's happening. Something. He acknowledged it. I don't think he knows, either. I think he wants me to tell him. But I can't, because I don't know."

"What -- did you -- I mean --"

"I slept with him."

Ron fell into one of the chairs.

"And?"

"And nothing. We woke up the next morning, got dressed, and kept walking."

"You slept with him on the way here?"

"It was a very unflattering scene. I don't know what you imagined, but it was cold, he was wet, and it was all together unappealing."

"You slept with him after you got run out of Mundungus Fletcher's?"

"He looked so damn cute shivering and soaked."

"So this was after his heroic attempt at a bath."

"I knew you would react this way! I don't know why I bothered even telling you."

"Wait! This is a momentous occasion. I'm not the only one shagging guys."

"You should be shagging guys considering --"

"Don't finish that sentence. I don't want to hear any conversations about how, you know, technically speaking, I'm straight. Fred and George have said it all. There's nothing left to say."

Piercing shrieks interrupted their conversation. Harry cracked open the door, they were met with the full force of Mrs. Black's shouts.

"Subordinate abomination, shame of a good family name, waste of my flesh . . ."

"Now you take that back before a sharp surface accidentally comes in contact with you."

"You're a filthy blood traitor . . ."

"That does it."

Ron shook his head, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the door jamb.

"Draco."

"What?"

"I'd know that screeching anywhere. Only Draco Malfoy would get into a serious fight with a portrait."

"We're talking about other things involving Draco Malfoy later."

Ron gave Harry a weary look, heading out of the room.

They reached Draco just as Kingsley pulled him away from the portrait, leaving Lupin and Tonks to pull the curtains shut. From what Ron could see before Mrs. Black disappeared, Draco left ragged scratches in the surface from those fingernails Ron loved so much.

"We were just about to come for you," said Tonks, falling against the wall. The effort of shutting up Mrs. Black seemed to have drained her.

"I have some bad news, I'm afraid," said Kingsley. "Two nights ago, the Ministry noticed a surge of magic coming from a remote location by Mundungus Fletcher's home, and you can bet that if the Ministry noticed, the You-Know-Who knows." Draco stopped struggling, looking from Kingsley to Ron.

"What does that mean?"

"The goods news is that even if he managed to follow your trail, this place is still under the Fidelus Charm. The bad news is that he'll be watching the path between Grimmauld Place. Now, to be fair, this could not be your fault at all. From what I understand, Mundungus spent the better part of that night running from Ministry officials. It's the main reason no on has investigated this matter thus far, but I'm sure the path is being watched."

"We're shutting it down," said Tonks. "A messenger has been sent to Hideout B by a different path. No one is to pass between the two places without taking a different way."

"Thank you for letting us know," said Lupin.

"Before I go, there's a matter I'd like to discuss with you in private," said Kingsley, looking from Ron to Harry to Draco.

"Of course," said Lupin, nodding, and he departed with Tonks and Kingsley through one of the curtains hanging over a doorway.

"They're talking about us," said Draco.

"You should be in bed," said Ron.

"I don't want to be in bed."

"I'll come up with you and visit."

"How kind."

"He could always entertain you in other ways," said Harry, smirking. Draco frowned, arching an eyebrow, and then his eyes grew wide.

"You told him?"

"I thought you wanted me to!"

For a moment, Ron thought Draco might start to twitch or go insane and attack his face. Instead, Draco lifted his head in a move that Ron thought may be more rote than anything else.

"I only wanted to know if you were going to tell him, and I'll take this as a yes. And Potter, more comments like that are going to get you in a place you don't want to be."

"On the receiving end of one of your woman jokes? I've heard them all. The Weasley twins know."

"Can we please not fight?" said Ron. "I'm already sick of hearing you bicker, and if we're going to accomplish anything, you both need to shut up. Yes, Draco, I told him, because last night when I hinted that I didn't plan on it, you got very upset. He's fine with it. I think he may ask for details, which is why we need to escape, and what better escape than to put you in bed. It's my turn to shove the meds down your throat."

"I'm perfectly --"

Ron imagined the next word was to be "fine," but Draco sneezed through his sentence, and his battle was lost. Making plans to meet that night in the drawing room for discussion on future plans, Ron led Draco upstairs and shut their door behind him.