Draco: Phoenix Rising

Chapter Thirty Six - Founders

Hermione picked up the coin from the floor and looked after Draco in dismay. She wondered what had brought on that outburst. Draco had been acting so strangely, lately. She sighed and traced the coin with her fingers as she pondered his words. Was she really trying to turn Draco into 'a pale shadow of Harry Potter?' She scowled. Why did he have to be so damned complicated? He was completely infuriating and prickly as a hedgehog today. Even in the hospital wing he'd been avoiding her, until she'd apparently annoyed him by calling him Malfoy.

I don't belong in there.

His words touched a nerve. Would Draco always feel like an outcast? She heard footsteps approach and then Harry stood beside her.

"Is Malfoy okay?" he asked.

She looked at him seriously and shook her head. "I don't think so. He stormed off to the Slytherin common room."

"Are you going to go talk to him?"

"He doesn't seem to want me around. I wish he would tell me what is really bothering him."

"Susan Bones just accused him of being a Death Eater and murdering Dumbledore," Harry commented. She considered that for a moment and then rejected it as the cause of Draco's distress.

"He hears that all the time. Moody still wants to turn him into a Christmas pudding. He's never been bothered by insults, before. Except yours."

"No, I think he actually likes my insults. They give him a good excuse to retaliate."

Hermione sighed. "I think the strain is getting to him. He's out of his element. We all have each other and he feels that he has no one. He's used to being perceived as an insufferable bully and now that we see him as a fellow human being, he's not sure how to react."

"So he lashes out in typical Malfoy fashion."

"Yes. I think he desperately wants to let down his guard, but he's terrified of being hurt."

Harry looked at her in amazement. "How do girls even think of things like that? I thought he was just pissed because he can't snarl vile insults and make himself feel superior."

"That is so typically male," Hermione said and rolled her eyes. "Besides, he doesn't really have to restrain himself if he wants to insult someone. There is always Ron."

"Yeah, there is always Ron," Harry repeated, but something in his tone made her look at him sharply.

"What?"

Harry shrugged and said, "Nothing," but his green eyes slid away from hers. She put her hands on her hips.

"Harry James Potter, if you know something about all of this, you'd better spill it right now."

He looked decidedly guilty.

"Look, I don't know anything. It's only a suspicion based on something Malfoy said at the Hog's Head."

"Which was?"

"Malfoy mentioned that he owed Ron a favor. Because Ron saved him from the Carrows at Snape's house."

"Draco owes Ron a favor?"

Harry nodded, but Hermione couldn't quite make the connection to Harry's suspicion.

"And what did Ron ask for?"

Harry flushed. "I don't know. Malfoy didn't say. As I told you, it's only an idea."

Hermione wasn't listening, knowing it would take a devilish amount of prying to get Harry to cough up a straight answer. What could Malfoy possibly have that Ron would want? Well, money, obviously, but she couldn't picture Ron asking for that even under torture. He was far too proud. What else? Draco's broom?

She scowled. No, it had to be something that would cause Draco to lash out like a cornered fox. What if it wasn't something Draco had, but something he could do? What could Ron ask Draco to do? Avada Kedavra himself, of course, but in lieu of that... She glanced at Harry, who waited expectantly. Something finally clicked.

"He didn't," she said in realization. Harry watched her perceptively, but said nothing. She narrowed her gaze at him and continued evenly, "Tell me Ron didn't warn Malfoy away from me."

Harry shrugged and then nodded tentatively. "It wouldn't surprise me."

Hermione felt such a rush of rage she was surprised her hair didn't crackle from the force of it.

"I. Will. Kill. Him," she decided and spun on a heel.

Harry grabbed her arm and halted her. "Don't do anything rash!"

"Rash? Who the hell does Ron think he is? I am not his property!"

"Ron is afraid of losing you," Harry said lamely.

"He never had me to lose, Harry!"

"I know that, but I don't think Ron does." He paused and then forged ahead. "How do you feel about Malfoy, anyway?"

Hermione shied away from the question. She wasn't ready to examine her feelings about Draco, and especially not before Harry Potter. "I don't know. Everything is so confusing right now. Besides, I think the most important thing is to ask how Malfoy feels about us."

"Us?" Harry looked baffled.

"Yes! He chose to come to us. Look at everything he's done! We never would have believed he would help us, but we would be devastated right now if not for Malfoy. My parents would probably be dead; Neville and Luna would be captured and possibly dead. We wouldn't have found and destroyed the cup. We wouldn't have four Death Eaters in the dungeon! Frankly, Malfoy's done more for us in the past week than we've managed with the entire Order in the past bloody year."

Harry's expression was grim.

"Well, Malfoy doesn't seem to realize that."

"Maybe someone should explain it to him," she suggested lightly. Harry looked at her hopefully.

"No, not me. Apparently he's made some sort of noble vow that prevents him from accepting my company at the moment. You go talk to him. I'm going to have a little chat with our friend Ron."

"You won't hurt him?"

"Hardly at all," she said with steel in her voice.

Harry sighed deeply, but obediently headed for the Slytherin dungeon. Hermione called after him.

"Unless he's changed the password, it's apple."

"Apple?"

"You know--garden, tree, serpent... apple. He'll explain it to you."

Harry shook his head in bemusement and disappeared. Hermione set her jaw and went to find Ronald Weasley.

* * * * *

Draco lay on the couch in the Slytherin common room, feeling perfectly miserable. He shouldn't have lashed out at Hermione. His current black mood was definitely not her fault. If anyone had proven to be firmly on his side, it was Granger. He had little doubt that she had been the one to instigate his rescue in the forest. He still didn't know how she'd managed to find him.

He sighed, already regretting the loss of the Galleon. What had possessed him to throw it down like a spoiled child? He should probably go find her and apologize. Except that he hated apologizing. And Ron Bastard Weasley would take him to task for it. Bloody hell, he should have just let the Carrows torture him. It would have been less painful in the long run.

Draco heard footsteps approaching and realized he should have changed the password. He really hadn't expected Hermione to follow him. To his surprise, it was Harry Potter who appeared at the end of the sofa.

"Hey, Malfoy," Potter said casually, as though wandering into the Slytherin common room was an everyday occurrence for The Chosen One.

"That will teach me to give a Gryffindor the password," Draco said dryly. "Did she put out a newsletter?"

"Relax. She only told me because she thought you didn't want her around."

"Perceptive, as always," Draco said. He watched Harry curiously, wondering why he was here. Had Granger sent him down for a pep talk? If so, Potter's heart didn't seem to be in it, which wasn't surprising. Harry wandered around aimlessly, peering at Slytherin bric-a-brac.

"It's hideously dark in here," Potter commented. "How do you stand it?"

"Slytherins appreciate the dark."

"So do I, but in moderation."

Draco gestured to the walls. "Normally, those are spelled to resemble windows that reflect the actual conditions outside. It's usually bright as Gryffindor Tower in here. Since I'm the only one in residence, they seem to have dispensed with such trivialities."

Harry made a noncommittal sound and spelled a dozen or so candles and sconces into light.

"Feeling any effects of Greyback's attack?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

"No. Nothing."

"Bill Weasley said he didn't feel any different, except that he had a craving for very rare meat."

"I eat my steaks that way already, so I probably won't notice a thing. What are the odds of you leaving me in peace?"

"Not in your favor."

"Shouldn't you be up there with your friends?"

"They can wait. This can't."

Draco wasn't sure he wanted to know what 'this' constituted. He folded his arms beneath his head in an affectation of boredom. Harry sat down on a nearby chair, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

One, Draco counted automatically.

Harry said, "Remember our first year, before we were sorted? You wanted to be my friend simply because I was famous."

Draco scowled, not appreciating the reminder of that particular memory. "That was before I discovered what a git you are."

"That was before you annoyed me by insulting Ron Weasley. You know, I've often thought about what would have happened if I'd never met Ron and had no preconceptions about the different Houses. Did you know the Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin?"

Draco laughed shortly and shook his head in amazement.

"You? The quintessential Gryffindor? That would have been hilarious."

"Seriously, it nearly happened. If it had, who do you think I would have been most likely to befriend?"

"Montague?" Draco asked archly. Harry ignored that.

"And think about this. When it comes to Voldemort, some unavoidable destiny seems to have been laid upon me. I don't think I would have escaped it simply by being sorted into a different House. I believe I would have had to stop Quirrell, and Tom Riddle, and do everything else I've been forced into."

Despite himself, Draco was fascinated by Harry's conjecture.

"You really think you would have had the same adventures as a Slytherin?"

Harry nodded. "I'm positive. I suspect Dumbledore set many of them up as a test of my abilities. I would have needed help, of course, especially to navigate the traps laid for the Stone. You're as clever as Hermione. You would have figured out the Devil's Snare trap and Snape's potion mystery--and you're the only one I've seen that can beat Ron at wizard's chess..."

Draco sat up and swung his feet to the floor, not liking the path Harry's thoughts followed. "You think I would have helped you defeat Voldemort?"

"Who else? You know I never would have fallen for that pureblood idiocy, even if I were sorted into Slytherin. I don't think you believe it any longer, either. If you ever really did."

Draco was silent. He shook his head and looked at Harry. "So, you think we would have been bosom buddies?" he said after a moment, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "You and I?"

"I think it was inevitable." Harry said quietly. His green eyes were wide and sincere. Draco buried his face in his hands. Bloody hell! Why did Potter and his friends insist on wringing every possible unwanted emotion out of a person? Draco quelled the strange leap of sentiment Harry's words had conjured. He looked up and sneered at Potter, but the gesture didn't have its usual potency.

"I'm not your friend, Potter."

Harry smiled in what seemed to be genuine amusement.

"Like hell you're not. You signed up for that position the minute you warned Hermione that her parents were in danger. And the best part is that you did it to yourself. As Hermione pointed out, you've done more for the cause lately than anyone. As well as paid the price."

Draco stood up, agitated by Potter's insinuation. He glared at Harry and tried to drudge up his old feelings of hatred for his nemesis. Potter's sardonic grin helped, but it wasn't quite enough. Draco kept recalling Harry's face at St. Mungo's, grim with concern as he gently handed Malfoy over to the hospital staff. Damn it, Draco didn't want to be one of Potter's loyal followers!

"You're insane, you know that?" he said harshly.

Harry shrugged. "Yes, well, it's entirely Hermione's fault. She seems to like you. Of course, there's no accounting for taste."

"Witness you and the redheaded stick girl." Draco leaped at the change of subject.

"Leave Ginny out of this. We're talking about you and Hermione."

"There is no me and Hermione."

"Do you want there to be?"

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

"No. Not really." Harry laughed and stood up. "Come on. There's no sense in you brooding alone down here, now that we're starting to miss your aggravating presence when you're not around."

"I wasn't brooding." Draco tried to find a way to refuse Harry.

"Wallowing in self-pity?"

"I hope you find yourself amusing."

Harry chuckled and walked to the fireplace to look at the enormous painting of Salazar Slytherin, who glared down at Potter in barely suppressed rage.

"Think he's rolling in his grave?" Harry asked. Draco hadn't really looked at the painting in a long time. Slytherin wore a grayish undertunic with a black woven cloth belt. A huge black cloak, trimmed in brilliant green, swept back over one shoulder where it was pinned with a simple serpent brooch of hammered silver. In contrast to the plain brooch, the Slytherin locket glittered majestically on his chest. He gripped a wooden staff in one hand and a wand with the other. The signet ring flashed briefly as Salazar moved. As if annoyed by their scrutiny, he disappeared.

Harry shrugged and turned back to Draco. It was common knowledge that the Founders never spoke from their paintings, although no one knew why. Draco started to speak, and then his eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.

"Bloody hell! Follow me, Potter, I just thought of something!"

Without waiting, Draco turned and ran from the Slytherin common room.

Draco took the stairs two at a time. "Where are we going?" Harry called.

"Ravenclaw Tower," Draco replied.

It seemed to take forever and they were both panting with exertion by the time they reached the western tower. Halfway up, a wave of dizziness had nearly overcome Draco, forcing him to pause for a rest and take the steps at a more leisurely pace. He was both relieved and annoyed when Potter made no comment. As they neared their destination, Harry mentioned that he had never been to Ravenclaw Tower, which seemed odd to Draco considering how much time Potter had spent wandering Hogwarts.

"Never? Not even as the honored guest of your old girlfriend, Cho?"

Harry flushed. "She was never really my girlfriend."

"Too bad you weren't sorted into Slytherin. I could have helped you out in the girl department. You desperately need assistance."

"Screw you, Malfoy," Harry said without conviction. Draco grinned. Potter had to know it was true. Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley? Potter had likely barely made it to the snogging stage with either one. Draco would bet half his fortune The Boy Who Lived was still a virgin. He decided to save that topic for later, when there was more time to wind Potter into a froth.

Similar to Gryffindor Tower, a painting blocked the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. No person stared back at them, but a sphinx crouched on desert sands. It gazed at them expressionlessly. When Draco could breathe normally he said, "We seek entrance."

The sphinx inclined its head and said, "A coin is bottled; the bottle then corked. Remove the coin, but not the cork; and break not the bottle."

"A riddle?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"Of course it's a riddle. It's a sphinx. Do you know the answer?"

"Remove a coin from a corked bottle without taking out the cork or breaking the bottle?"

"That's the question, not the answer." Draco grinned. "You really are helpless without Granger, aren't you?" Harry scowled and Draco answered the sphinx. "Simple. You push the cork into the bottle and remove the coin."

The painting swung aside easily.

"No password, but a riddle?" Harry asked.

"Ravenclaws. They love to show off their brainpower."

Draco started inside and Harry followed.

"How did you know? About the riddles, I mean."

"I spent an entertaining evening with a Ravenclaw girl in third year," Draco replied. "She actually devised a chart that showed how different positions--"

"Forget I asked!" Harry said quickly.

"It's your loss," Draco replied and chuckled. "Unfortunately, she transferred to Beauxbatons the following year. Her parents likely found out her primary field of study was male anatomy."

The Ravenclaw common room was currently empty. Most of the Order members were probably in the Great Hall. Draco walked to the huge painting of Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Just as I remembered," he said in satisfaction. Harry stood beside him, puzzled. Rowena wore clothing similar to that worn by Slytherin, except the colors were blue and black. Draco pointed to her wrist. "You suspected that the Dark Lord wanted items from each of the Founders, correct? I noticed the locket and ring on Salazar downstairs and I recalled this bracelet."

A large golden bangle bracelet, inlaid with sparkling sapphires, adorned Rowena Ravenclaw's wrist. She smiled down at them gently and raised her hand. A tiny golden raven charm dangled from the bracelet.

"I'll bet you're right," Harry breathed. "Tom Riddle could have located it the same way he found Hufflepuff's cup, while working at Borgin and Burkes." He sighed. "Now we know what to look for, but not where to look. And that doesn't tell us what he might have that belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Dumbledore swore he had the only two Gryffindor artifacts safely in his office--the sword and the Sorting Hat."

"Maybe we should go look at them."

Harry nodded. "At least there are only a few stairs to navigate. I don't need you fainting away on me."

Draco snorted. "I'm surprised you haven't offered to carry me, as much as you seem to enjoy putting your hands on me."

"In your dreams, Malfoy." Draco hadn't seen that particular expression on Potter's face since the day he arrived. The look of pure disgust caused Malfoy to laugh aloud.

Maybe this whole friendship thing wouldn't be so bad, after all.