Sorrow and Solace

Chapter 6

During breakfast, Draco debated inwardly whether or not he should tell Harry about his father's note. Harry is my friend. Friends help you out when you need help, and I definitely need help right now. But maybe Harry won't believe me...maybe he'll think I'm lying, that I'm really working for the Dark Lord. How could I have lied, though, he force-fed me Veritaserum! And I was telling the truth...But I've harassed him all these years, would he honestly just decide to be your best friend all of a sudden? He probably doesn't trust me at all. But I should tell him. If I were a real friend, I'd tell him.

And with that, Draco marched off to the Owlery, leaving his breakfast untouched.

It had been an uneventful morning for Harry. He handed in his DADA essay, which he thought turned out quite nicely with Hermione's help, and got through Care of Magical Creatures without being attacked by any of Hagrid's new 'pets.'

As he walked in to the Great Hall for lunch, he was reminded of his brief exchange with Draco during breakfast. Harry's eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table and he saw Malfoy sitting with his usual crowd, but not talking. He was bent over his plate, eating quietly. Harry stopped staring and took a seat at his own table. He was just about to take a bite of his biscuit when one of the school owls flew in and dropped an envelope on his plate.

He didn't usually get mail from the school owls, so he was very curious. The envelope said "Harry Potter" in a plain script that he didn't recognize. He opened the envelope and took out a single piece of parchment.

Harry,

I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight after dinner? I'll be there at 8:30. Thanks.

Draco

"Who's it from, Harry?" asked Ron, his mouth full of potatoes.

"Uh...it's from Cho," Harry lied, saying the first plausible name that popped into his head.

"Cho?" Hermione grunted in disgust. "I thought you were over that brat, Harry!"

"Hey, she owled me, Mione, not the other way around."

"What does she want?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

Harry sighed. Sometimes Hermione was just too inquisitive for her own good. "She wants to talk to me after dinner."

"Ha! In the Astronomy Tower, no doubt," Hermione snorted.

"Hmm, I think our Hermione is a wee bit jealous, Harry!" teased Ron. Hermione flushed slightly, but her voice was calm.

"Ronald Weasley, you know perfectly well that's not true. I just happen to think that Cho Chang is not a very nice person and I don't think Harry should spend a lot of time with her."

"If you say so," answered Ron, with a smug look that clearly indicated that he didn't say so.

"Oh, you're insufferable!" cried Hermione, standing and gathering her books.

"But that's why you like me," retorted Ron.

"Why you..."

"And that's why you'll go down with me to Hogsmeade this weekend...maybe?" Now it was Ron's turn to turn pink. Hermione put her hands on her hips and smiled.

"Ronald Weasley, did you just ask me out?"

"Um..."

"After teasing me?"

"Well..."

"And making fun of me?"

"I didn't..."

"Then I suppose I'll have to go to Hogsmeade with you."

"But...wait, was that a yes?"

Hermione laughed.

"Yes, Ron, that was a yes."

And she walked off to class.

The day dragged on for Draco. He was anxious to see Harry. He ate dinner quickly before excusing himself and hurrying away to the Astronomy Tower. It was only 8:20, but he was glad to be away from the other Slytherins. They weren't exactly hostile towards him, but it was a very clear that since Draco was on apparently good terms with Harry Potter, he was not the figure of power he used to be.

Draco looked out towards the horizon. The sun had already set, but the last pink rays still tinged the sky to the west. It was cold out, and Draco shivered as he turned to climb down to the lower observatory. But when he turned, Harry Potter stood there.

"Hello, Draco," he said with a smile. "Wow, it's a pretty sunset!"

Draco smirked, thinking how typical it was that a Gryffindor should be so awed by something as simple as a sunset.

Yes, and you were just looking at it not two minutes ago, you great dolt. Draco stopped smirking, and a serious expression spread across his face.

"Well, how have you been, Harry? No more suicide thoughts, I hope?"

Harry looked a bit surprised that Draco had brought up that event.

"No, I haven't. I'd almost forgotten about it, to tell the truth. So much has happened since then...but I feel a lot better since I've talked to Dumbledore, and Hermione, and Ron...and you."

Draco looked over at Harry. "I'm glad." Harry tilted his head towards Draco and smiled. Draco like seeing him smile, and grinned back.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" asked Harry conversationally.

Draco sighed. Better just get it done with he thought.

"I got a letter from my father yesterday." He took the parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Harry. The Gryffindor quickly scanned the note and his eyes widened.

"You're going to take the Dark Mark?" he gasped.

"I don't want to!" Draco replied quickly. "But I don't know how I can avoid it! When I go home for Christmas, they will force me to take it, or I'm as good as dead! Harry, what am I going to do?"

Harry looked into Draco's face again. The Slytherin's grey eyes were full of fear. Harry had never seen that expression on Draco before, and it unsettled him. As Draco had feared, Harry couldn't quite bring himself to trust him.

He honestly looks scared. He would have to be a really good actor to pull off an expression like that. But maybe he is acting. I'm really not great at reading expressions; if only someone else could help me...And then he realized what the answer was.

"I think," Harry said slowly, "that you should go talk to Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh come off it, Harry! Dumbledore is an old coot! He's off his bloody rocker! He's..."

"He's the most powerful wizard in Britain and he's the most likely one to be able to help you. It couldn't hurt to talk to him!"

Draco scowled. Talk could hurt. He did not want to go pouring out his sorrows to a senile old man with the mental capacity of a flobberworm. He had never trusted Dumbledore and he didn't want to start now. Harry observed his resistance.

"Just tell him what your situation is. What could go wrong?"

"Good lord, I don't want to talk to him!"

"Please, Draco?"

He turned to glare at Harry and ended up looking straight into his eyes. Harry had very expressive eyes, he noticed, despite those stupid glasses. Just then, they were filled with a mix of emotions that surprised Draco: anxiety, hope, and...sympathy? That annoyed Draco; he had been taught all his life that pity was to be scorned. But then again, I've discovered that most of the things I've been taught all my life are a bunch of codswallop. How can anyone possibly have eyes that green? It's bloody unreal...

"Well?"

Draco blinked and ended the impromptu staring contest. He sighed. Remember, Draco, you are his friend. What would one of his friends do? Oh god, I don't want to imagine the thought processes behind the Weasel, I mean Weasley, must call him Weasley, Harry won't like it if I call him Weasel. I suppose he would go see Dumbledore. Maybe it really wouldn't hurt to talk. After all, I talk to Harry. I should trust him. If he says I should talk to Dumbledore, then I should. Merlin, this is bloody insanity!

"Very well. If you absolutely insist, I will go see Dumbledore."

Harry smiled. "Thank you. I'm sure he'd have much better advice than I would. Let's go!"

"What, now?"

"Of course!"

"I didn't mean now!" whined Draco.

"Oh grow up, you little ponce, this way you can get it over with, since you obviously aren't thrilled about going."

"I'm not," he muttered. "Fine, fine. Let's go."

"Good evening, Harry, Draco. Please come in."

Harry smiled to himself. Dumbledore had his back to the door and was facing one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls. How does he do it? He always knows... Harry walked into the spacious office and Draco followed suit. They both sat in the fluffy chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk as the wizened man turned to face them. Harry saw that he was much skinnier and had more wrinkles after the ordeals of last year, but his eyes had retained most of their usual luster and twinkle. He gave the two boys a small smile, then walked over to sit opposite them. As he settled down in the high-backed chair, he asked,

"Now then, Draco, what did you wish to tell me?"

Draco gave the Headmaster an appraising look. The older man returned the stare without a hint of anger or impatience.

With a sigh, Draco began talking. He gave as few details as he could, only saying that his father expected him to take the Mark over the winter holidays and that Draco did not want to join Voldemort's ranks. Dumbledore listened quietly.

"I see," he said when Draco finished. "What do you plan to do?"

"Well, Harry seemed to think you would have some brilliant plan to work everything out," Draco responded with no small amount of his trademark sarcasm.

"I'm afraid I don't have any brilliant plans," he began.

"But Professor!" interrupted Harry, as Draco leaned back with a smirk.

"However," Dumbledore continued smoothly, "I believe we will be able to work something out. Do you have the letter from your father, Draco?"

Draco nodded and took out the crumpled parchment from his pocket. Dumbledore perused the note and sighed.

"The good news is that there are still two weeks until the winter holiday. I know it isn't much comfort to you, Draco, but if you truly do not want to take the Mark, then I will do everything I can to prevent it from happening."

He said these words very earnestly, and Draco saw that he really believed that he could somehow save Draco from what seemed like a certain fate. Draco was not so convinced, but he was a bit relieved to know that at least Dumbledore seemed to care what happened to him. Just a bit...

"Thank you for coming to see me, Draco. If you ever need help, please come back. The password is 'Sour Gummy Worm.'"

"Sour Gummy Worm?"

"Yes. Quite tasty Muggle candy."

I knew it Draco thought. He's bonkers.

"Well, thank you, Professor," intervened Harry. "Good night!"

"Thank you," echoed Draco.

Dumbledore smiled. "Good night."

"Don't gloat, Draco, I don't want to hear it."

Draco stopped in his tracks. "I wasn't planning on gloating."

"He didn't have any ideas! He always has an idea! This is serious and he just goes off about his gummy worms!"

"Look, Harry, you didn't know. It's alright. We'll think of something."

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe it."

"So he's a bit messed in the head. He said we would think of something and we will. Granger's not the only one with brains in this school."

"Well, what do you suggest?" said Harry a bit snappishly.

"Don't go all priggish on me, I'm trying to come up with an solution here instead of sulking."

"I'm not sulking!" Harry suddenly looked away. "I suppose I am sulking. But Dumbledore was always so reliable when we were younger. I could always count on him to do the right thing and come up with the right answer. But since last year, that's changed. I thought he would make everything right, but instead things got even worse. I risked my friends' lives and I lost Sirius. It wasn't exactly Dumbledore's fault, but he wasn't blameless either. I just don't know what to do."

Draco listened to Harry's oration silently. His voice was full of hurt and sadness. The past few days Harry had seemed so cheerful, Draco was surprised to hear this angry outburst. He had never realized how much Harry had looked up to the Headmaster. We're both lost. We have no one. We're alone...

"...but we're together."

Harry turned back to Draco.

"What did you say?"

Draco looked back at Harry. He didn't realize he had spoken out loud.

"We're together. You don't know what to do and neither do I." He gave Harry a wry grin. "We really do have a lot in common."

"Yeah, yeah I guess we do." Harry's angry expression faded a little.

"If you..." Merlin, I feel like a fool for saying this! "If you need to talk about Sirius, I'm here to listen." That may have been the most un-Malfoy-esque thing I have ever said! I'm supposed to hate Sirius Black even more than I'm supposed to hate Harry!

Harry smiled at him; a genuine smile that chased more of the pain from his face and made his green eyes even brighter.

"Thank you, Draco," he said. "That...that really means a lot to me."

Draco was oddly pleased at Harry's reaction. I should say un-Malfoy-esque things more often.