The Legend of Chime

Chapter twenty-three Snake in a Lion's den

She could see the uncertain shadow in Draco's eyes as he stood there. As though he was hoping for the best, but expected the worst. A snake in a lion's den. She was again reminded of how brave he must be underneath it all. He tried desperately to hide his insecurities amid a thick facade of arrogance; to protect his scars. Elizabeth gave Draco a brief smile as she placed her hand on Harry's arm. "It's all right, Harry," she whispered. "Hello, Draco." She could tell the use of his first name made an impression on him. He seemed somewhat stunned for a moment. Then his lips curved into a slight smile.

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Ron, after a brief moment of awkward silence. Draco's faint smile vanished and was immediately replaced by a look of cold indifference. He had been expecting this type of reaction. Elizabeth had hoped for something different since the events of Saturday night, but exactly what she couldn't say. She admitted to herself that she had avoided the topic for the last two days.

"That will be quite enough of that, Ronald Weasley," said Mrs. Weasley, giving Ron a look of warning as she rose to greet Draco. "Come and have a seat, dear. There's plenty of food to go around," she said with a slightly forced smile. "I assume, you being here means Dumbledore is waiting for us in the drawing room?"

Draco gave a brief nod as he took a seat at the very end of the table, trying not to look uncomfortable. Baxter, who had escorted Malfoy down to the kitchen, immediately scurried forward and started to serve him, while giving Hermione quick nervous glances as if he thought she might pounce on him at any moment. Harry, who hadn't taken his eyes off Draco since he had entered the room, sat back down in his seat next to Elizabeth. She could feel the suppressed anger rolling off of him as he did so, and was slightly surprised by it.

Old habits die hard, Elizabeth. They've been enemies for so long. Does this really surprise you? asked the small voice inside her head.

"Now," said Mrs. Weasley, pausing as she, Mr. Weasley and Professor Lupin started to file out of the kitchen, "there will be no arguing. Is that understood? We are all on the same side now. What was in the past shall remain in the past." She stared pointedly at Ron, Harry and Draco. When none of them responded to her request, she put her hands on her hips and said in a louder voice, "Is that understood?"

All three gradually nodded, acknowledging her words. Elizabeth knew none of them meant to keep their word, but remained silent. Satisfied, Mrs. Weasley turned and strode up the stairs. When Ron was certain his mother was far enough away not to overhear, he turned on Draco again.

"You've got some nerve showing up here, acting like you belong," fumed Ron, leaning menacingly across the table. "We all know the only reason you were there that night was because you were the one who turned Elizabeth over to your Death Eater father...."

"Ron," said Elizabeth, a note of warning in her voice.

"Shut it, Weasley," said Draco in a deceptively calm voice.

"What? Did your father not give you a big enough broom for your trouble?" Ron continued venomously, ignoring them both. "Or did you decide to switch sides when it became obvious that your friends were going to lose and you wanted to save your worthless arse?"

In a flash, Malfoy reached for his wand. A second later, all three men were on their feet. Harry and Ron had their wands trained on Malfoy, who in turn had his wand pointed at Ron.

"Stop!" shouted Hermione, jumping up from the table. Ginny stood at the same time and positioned herself between Harry and Malfoy.

Shit! A second later, all three wands flew into Elizabeth's out-stretched palm. "I believe Mrs. Weasley specifically said there was to be no arguing," said Elizabeth with a frown as she clasped her hand around the wands. "Though she didn't cover dueling, I believe that's implied." She turned to Ron. "Thank you for being outraged on my behalf. But I assure you, it's not necessary."

"What?" Harry shouted in disbelief. "He's a bloody Death Eater, Elizabeth! You almost died because of him!"

"No," Elizabeth calmly corrected, somewhat defiantly. "I almost died because of Voldemort."

"Elizabeth's right," said Hermione, glancing from Harry to Ron and back again. "Dumbledore wouldn't allow Malfoy within a hundred feet of this house if he wasn't certain he was on our side now. Plus, he's saved your neck twice, Harry. In case you've forgotten." Harry glared at Hermione for bringing that up, but she persisted, "He deserves a chance."

"Besides that, from what I've overheard, he gave up a lot to save Elizabeth," said Ginny, glancing up at Malfoy. "That's probably why Dumbledore's brought him here now. He has nowhere else to go."

"So now you think he's a bloody hero!" Ron growled at Ginny and Hermione.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to control her anger. "Please, sit down," she said succinctly, looking pointedly at Draco, Ron and Harry.

Draco took his seat, and Harry and Ron reluctantly followed.

"I still don't trust him," Ron muttered, glaring at Malfoy.

"Well, I do. And I think I know him a bit better than you do," said Elizabeth harshly. She wasn't certain why, but Ron's comment had struck a nerve. "I neglected to tell you. And it's my own fault for keeping it to myself. But before help arrived, Draco killed two Death Eaters while trying to help me escape... knowing the whole time, he wouldn't be able to escape with me." She paused. "I don't know everything that transpired that night..." She glanced over at Malfoy, "But I do know that. It's something I'll never forget. And that is why I trust him...with my life."

The table was quiet for sometime. Harry had gone completely still. She knew her words confused him. She knew it was difficult for him to understand. Soon she would help him, but not now. She pushed herself away from the table and stood, handing back Harry and Ron their wands.

"Could I please have a word with you, Draco?" she asked quietly.

********************************************************************************

She called him Draco. She had openly welcomed him and now she was defending him. And he felt completely unworthy of her defence. Potter was right; he was a Death Eater or at least had been. She had almost died, because he hadn't been able to think of a way to stop what had been put into motion months before. It didn't matter that he hadn't known the whole plan until the end. He had known enough. He could have done more. But he hadn't. He had been a selfish bastard. And she had almost paid the ultimate price for his failure. And now she defended him. Because that's what friends do.... Bloody hell.

"Can I please have a word with you, Draco?" Elizabeth asked.

He glanced at Potter. He didn't look happy. For some reason, the knowledge brought him little satisfaction. He looked back at Elizabeth, who was waiting patiently for his answer and nodded. He rose from his seat and walked with her out of the kitchen, up the short flight of stairs, and into the hallway. He could hear no voices coming from the door to the drawing room as they passed, but knew that meant nothing. They've probably placed a Imperturbable Charm on the room, he silently mused. Elizabeth led him up the rickety staircase and into a dimly lit room on the first landing, and then shut the door. Draco took a moment to gaze curiously around the room, noting that it was the library. It seemed fitting. They had always spoken in the library.

Elizabeth suddenly turned toward him and the smile that she offered him reached into the very depths of his being and twisted his heart painfully in his chest. He knew he could never be worthy of her, but still it was difficult not to bask in the small light offered to him by that smile.

"I wanted to thank you," she said hesitantly. "I know it was difficult doing what you did...."

"Save your gratitude, Elizabeth," Draco interrupted in a voice much harsher than he intended. "You don't know the whole story. You owe me nothing." Her smile faded and Draco instantly regretted his words. But she needed to know the truth. He refused to take credit for something he hadn't earned.

"Then why don't you tell me the whole story?" she said quietly. "And let me be the judge."

Draco started to refuse her request, and then thought better of it. If she hated him, it would be easier. Easier to stay away. Easier to see her with Potter. Easier to forget how she felt in his arms while they danced. Easier to forget the smile that tortured him... the eyes that haunted his dreams.

"I am a Death Eater, Elizabeth. I allowed the Dark Lord to brand me with his mark, just like my father wanted," he growled, jerking up his sleeve to show her the faint outline of a skull and snake beneath, "I was given the ring to confirm its power over you and I used it many times. Just like I was told to do. Not caring that it poisoned my mind as well because it brought me you. I memorised every curve of your body as I siphoned off your power. If I close my eyes now, I can still see you... feel you beneath me...."

"Stop it, Draco."

He opened his eyes and stepped closer to her. "You wanted the truth. The whole bloody story. I'll give it to you now. I sent my mother the article about you from that ridiculous paper, and from that article the Dark Lord devised a plan. To infiltrate your grandmother's house. He knew Lady Isabella would come for you. You were a pureblood, after all, and your grandmother was very predictable in her arrogance. Everyone knew she wanted an heir. So my mother publicly renounced my father and testified against him at trial. Then when my father and the rest of the Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban, they made it look like they attacked Malfoy Manor. Sending my mother straight into your grandmother's sympathetic pureblood arms. Then there was the staged attack on Hogwarts. It was nicely done, don't you think? Even I wasn't aware that I was supposed to get wounded. Though not as bad as I did. And I definitely wasn't suppose to save Potter. But you had already left an impression on me, it seems and I just couldn't help myself... But then you did something no one expected...You fucking healed me." He gave a bitter laugh. "And in your naivety, exacted a perfect revenge. You gave me your weakness. The one thing I feared the most. You see, feelings have always brought me nothing, but pain. That's why I cut myself off from them. But you know that, don't you? You've seen my dark soul. After that, I was no longer made aware of the Dark Lord's plans. I couldn't be trusted. So my mother was given the job of discovering the numerous security wards on Fairchild Manor and disabling them so that you could be taken easily. But my mother decided to add her own scheme to the mix. She wanted the Fairchild name. So she whispered in your grandmother's ear at every opportunity about how perfectly we fit together, how right we were for each other. Then Olivia found me gone from my room and assumed I was in your bed. When in fact, I had been summoned by the Dark Lord and told my part in his plan to extricate you that night. A chance to redeem myself, so to speak. I thought about running, I'll admit. But I couldn't leave you. I knew they would take you. But still I told no one. I convinced myself that no one would believe me and that I had no choice. That I was alone. I thought about telling you, but I didn't have the guts when it came down to it. I'm a coward, Elizabeth. I gave you the Esbat potion and knew you would succumb. I allowed it. I watched you fall." He shook his head as he averted his gaze. "Now. You see, I do not deserve your gratitude. I deserve your hate."

The room was deathly quiet for several minutes, except for the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

"You're right," said Elizabeth quietly. "I have seen your soul, Draco. But it's not dark. Not like it use to be. Only grey... stained by the darkness that surrounded you for so long. I told you once before... I know more about you than you will ever be comfortable with... and I meant it. I've seen your darkest fears and memories, your brightest hopes. I know you push people away, try to frighten them, intimate them, and test them to see if they will run or lash out... and hope that they will do one or the other because you can't handle anything in between." She lifted her hand and touched his bare forearm. "I've known about this for sometime. But this isn't you, Draco. It doesn't define who you are. You are more than this. I know you know that. I can see it in your eyes." She dropped her hand. "I didn't know about your mother. I didn't know about the plot. I didn't know most of what you just told me. And I'll admit for a few moments while I lay on the ground, I seriously doubted I knew you at all... But I do, Draco... You're not a Death Eater... You're not your father's broken son... You're my friend... the one who would have gladly given his life to save mine... that is who you are."

Draco stood stunned. For once in his life, he had no witty comeback, no snide remark, or subtle insult that would cut her to the bone and make her run from him. Even if he had one, he wouldn't use it... because she would see right through it. They both knew it. As he looked into her eyes, he felt as if he had finally found what he had desperately been searching for, for so long... a true friend.

Suddenly, he found himself not hating Potter so much for loving her and being lucky enough to have her love him in return. Because now, he shared something with her that no one else could touch, not even Potter . . . and Draco smiled. Their friendship was odd and wrong in so many ways, but he didn't care. For once in his life, he was glad to be . . . just Draco.

She tilted her head and grinned up at him with a strange glint in her eye. "But don't get me wrong . . . I still think you're an arrogant bastard . . . and if you mention using the ring again... ever... I'll make you regret it... and we both know I can." She tossed his wand at his chest.

Draco deftly caught the wand before it fell to the floor and he stared at Elizabeth for a moment then threw back his head and laughed.

********************************************************************************

Harry sat alone in the kitchen, staring at the stone wall, but not really seeing it. Hermione and Ginny had decided to study in their room and Ron had mumbled something about practising Animagus training in the attic. He had purposely stayed behind to organise his jumbled thoughts and to process what Elizabeth had said. Malfoy had tried to save her . . . all by himself. His mind flashed back to the image of Malfoy, lying pale and motionless in the hospital wing, then to the image of Malfoy, ducking curses as they flew deadly close to his head in the forest, shouting fiercely about the ring on Voldemort's finger. These images didn't fit with the other images he had of Malfoy over the years. He started to wonder if someone could really change that much.

Haven't you? You no longer stare into space feeling lost in a room full of people. You no longer inwardly rage at the cruel hand that fate has dealt you. You no longer feel responsible for everyone else's happiness or hurt. You no longer put up a fake facade to make everyone think that you're okay when you're not. You feel content with who you are as though destiny no longer has control over your life. Haven't you changed as well?

He heard the door to the kitchen creak open and he glanced over his shoulder. Elizabeth was walking toward him. She was biting her lip the way she always did whenever she was uncertain about his mood. But then she smiled as she looked into his eyes and Harry was reminded of the subtle beauty that was every bit Elizabeth.

"So . . . did you have a nice chat with Malfoy?" He tried hard to keep the resentment out of his voice, but knew she still heard it as she sat down next to him.

"Actually, I did," she said softly then fell silent for several minutes. She seemed suddenly very tired and Harry felt some of his resentment seep away.

"I don't like him, Elizabeth," Harry said weakly as if so few words would explain everything.

She looked at him with those beautiful, understanding eyes. "I know you don't."

"I probably never will."

She smiled at him again and he realised she knew he was weakening in his resolve. "I know that too."

"He tried to save you?" he asked gruffly, though he didn't know why. He knew the answer.

"Yes."

"You trust him?"

"With my life."

Harry didn't know how she did it. With so few words, she could say so much and she never forced her opinion on you. But rather, she gave you time to see the right of it for yourself. He took a deep breath. "I'll try to give him a chance. For you," Harry said resignedly.

"That's all I can ask."

Harry reached out and took her hand then softly smiled as he traced the outline of her fingers. "I love you, Elizabeth."

She leaned over and kissed his lips and he was again shaken by the power of her touch. He pulled her closer to him and drank deeply of her lips, feeling as though he had been without her for ages.

Then someone cleared their throat directly behind them. Harry reluctantly pulled away from her touch and turned to find Malfoy standing in the doorway.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry growled.

"Far be it from me to break up such a lovely moment," Malfoy smirked, "But we are being summoned to the drawing room."

"What?" asked Harry, narrowing his eyes at Malfoy.

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow. "Still a bit slow, aren't you, Potter?" he sneered, but quickly shook his head and continued at Elizabeth's warning glare, "Dumbledore is requesting our presence in the drawing room."

"Did he say why?" Elizabeth asked as Harry pushed himself up from the table then turned to help her up.

Malfoy shrugged. "No, but one would assume it has something to do with Saturday night and our actions there of," he said smoothly as he turned to make his way back up the stairs. Harry and Elizabeth followed him out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the drawing room door, where Malfoy knocked briefly. A second later, the door was opened by Mrs. Weasley, who gave them a friendly smile, but Elizabeth could see the worry in her eyes.

Elizabeth stepped inside and immediately felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There had to be nearly fifty people packed inside the large drawing room and they all had there eyes trained on her. Most looked on with curiosity. Some with concern. Her eyes fell on Professor Lupin, who was standing in the back, and he gave her an encouraging smile. She felt Harry's hand clasp hers as they proceeded inside and wove their way through the throng of people, ignoring the whispers and stares. As they came to the front of the room, she felt Harry tense. Elizabeth looked up and noticed Harry was eyeing a portly man who had just come into view, sitting next to Dumbledore.

"Good Evening, Elizabeth. Harry. Draco," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." He indicated the five squashy chintz armchairs that formed a half-circle to the left of him. Ron and Hermione already occupied two of them and both looked extremely nervous.

Elizabeth slowly turned to take a seat next to Hermione, but Harry squeezed her hand and refused to move, holding her to the spot. "Is this an interrogation, Professor?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the portly gentleman.

"Not to worry, Harry. Cornelius and a few members of the Wizengamot have been asked to be present while you tell us your side of the events of last Saturday night, but not as interrogators. None of you are on trial, this is not a hearing and nothing that you tell us will be held against you, in any way," said Dumbledore reassuringly. "This is merely for strategic information purposes only."

Harry stared at the man, called Cornelius, a moment longer then nodded to Dumbledore and allowed Elizabeth to take her seat. "Who is that man, Harry?" she whispered as he took his seat next to her.

Harry leaned over and whispered in her ear, "The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

Elizabeth felt all the blood drain from her face as she looked over at the minister and the four wizards and one witch dressed in plum-colored robes with a silver W on their chests. She didn't understand why they had to be here. Why couldn't she just tell Dumbledore what happened alone and be done with it?

As if reading her thoughts, Dumbledore calmly said, "The people who surround you now are part of the Wizarding Coalition, a highly discreet group of wizards and witches from both the Order and the Ministry of Magic recently formed to combat Lord Voldemort and his followers. It is vital that they hear exactly what took place on Saturday evening or they would not be here. I would like nothing more than to spare you the pain of reliving that night in such a public forum, and were it not necessary, I would do just that. You have all shown a tremendous amount of valor and I ask that you demonstrate your bravery once more. Ron and Hermione have already explained the events as they witnessed them. Now, I must ask that you tell us what happened... starting with you, Elizabeth."

The room became eerily quiet, except for the occasional rustling of robes. Elizabeth felt hundreds of eyes boring into the back of her skull as she sat there silent for several minutes. She knew everyone was waiting and yet the words seemed lodged in her throat. She felt Harry's thumb gently caress the top of her hand, silently reminding her that she wasn't alone and a warm sensation gradually filled her, adding to her strength.

She took a deep breath and began to tell them her story. As she spoke, she felt her mind become mercifully detached from the words that she uttered, as though that night had happened to someone else, and she had been somewhere drifting above it all, looking down on the whole thing. She saw herself scrambling to her feet and bolting through the trees as Draco threw curses at anyone who came near her; she saw the glimmer of the goblet as she grasped it in her hands and fell to the ground; she saw herself being bound by ropes as Voldemort entered the clearing; she saw Draco writhing on the ground then herself following shortly after, but being able to stand again before the curse was lifted.

She was vaguely aware of the soft whimpers emitted from Hermione, the quiet gasps of disbelief resounding through the group of onlookers, and the increased pressure of Harry's grasp as she repeated Voldemort's words regarding her mother's torture and the ring, but she didn't dare stop. She continued her story, still feeling blessedly removed from the entire experience. She told of the strange reaction she had to Voldemort slipping the ring on his finger, how every worry and thought had been instantly wiped free from her mind, how she saw everything that was happening around her, but could do nothing to help herself or them, how she could hear a muffled echo in her head, but a louder voice drowned out the words, how she felt the blade slice through her flesh, and how she saw Harry throw curse after curse to stop her.

"Then suddenly there was nothing, but darkness... it completely enveloped me... and I was falling, but I somehow knew I would never feel the ground... like I dived into a black ocean... and hundreds of whispers filled my ears, but I felt comforted by them somehow... strangely at peace... as though there were people close by that I just couldn't see... who loved me... then I heard Harry's voice... and the whispers faded away... and I felt myself rising up... then I felt like I was burning from the inside out... then I opened my eyes... I don't remember much after that, until I woke up in St. Mungo's," Elizabeth finished softly.

"So are you saying that... this ring... this Ring of Oenone allowed You-Know-Who to possess you while he was still visible to everyone else? Even while he fought against Professor Dumbledore?" asked the minister, the disbelief evident in his voice.

Elizabeth's eyes shifted to Dumbledore, who seemed to be deep in thought, then to Mr. Fudge and she was unable to keep the look of confusion from her face. She hadn't really thought about it, but as the possibility started to sink into her numb mind, it absolutely terrified her. "I-I... I..." she glanced at Harry, "I don't know... I-I...."

"No." Draco's voice echoed with certainty and Elizabeth glanced over at him. He was sitting on the other side of Harry. "The Ring of Oenone contained a powerful form of the Imperius Curse as well as a Summoning Charm and because they were combined with the ring's original power, the spells could not be dissipated." His steel eyes gazed into Elizabeth's. "Which left you helpless to fight it, but you were not possessed by the Dark Lord."

"And you know this because HE told you, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Fudge curiously.

"Yes," said Draco without hesitation.

Fudge lifted his eyebrows, but remained silent to Draco's response. It suddenly dawned on Elizabeth that he was already aware of Draco's past affiliation and recent defection. Draco had already been questioned.

"Have you anything to add, Harry?" asked Dumbledore smoothly.

"No, sir," said Harry succinctly. "But I do have a question."

"Yes?"

Harry's head turned toward Mr. Fudge. "Will all this be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning, Minister?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a slightly disapproving glance over his half-moon glasses and Mr. Fudge's face turned red as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, but Harry didn't look like he cared in the slightest and his gaze never wavered. "No, Harry...." Dumbledore said calmly.

"I assure you," interrupted Fudge stiffly, "The article in the Daily Prophet this morning was published without the consent of the Ministry . . . the matter is already under a full inquiry and any further leaks will be dealt with harshly."

"Forgive me if I'm not convinced," Harry said dryly.

"That will be quite enough, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly then his eyes fell on Elizabeth. "I thank you for showing the depth of your courage this night... and you have now given us all we have the right to request." His gaze traveled over the five of them. "If you will excuse us now, there are other matters that need to be discussed before this meeting is adjourned. Again, I thank you."

They all rose and started to make their way back through the crowd, but Elizabeth stopped and slowly turned back around. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

"What happened to the ring?" she asked quietly, staring into his blue eyes.

Dumbledore surveyed her for a moment through his glasses. "I regret to say, I do not know. It appears to have vanished without a trace."

*******************************************************************************************

Harry looked down at the peacefully sleeping form of Elizabeth and softly caressed her cheek. He was glad Mrs. Weasley had insisted she take a sleeping potion as soon as the meeting had adjourned and for once, Elizabeth hadn't resisted. He remembered all too well how he had felt when Dumbledore had required him to relive what had happened in the graveyard and he knew Elizabeth needed the potion to insure a dreamless sleep. It would be sometime before the vivid images would fade from her mind. Harry had tried not to think about what had happened to her before he had arrived at the stone ring and hearing her quietly speak the words to a roomful of mostly strangers had nearly been his undoing. His resentment and anger toward Fudge had readily bubbled to the surface when he dared to question her. It was his fault Elizabeth had been exposed. It was his fault that the Wizarding community had been so ill prepared for war. He had no right to know the truth; he would just abuse it, twist it to fit his own ends. He didn't understand why Dumbledore allowed the man to join with him and the rest of the Order. The man was power hungry and an idiot to boot, a very deadly combination. But maybe that's why Dumbledore was keeping him so close. What was that old muggle saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. Maybe it was a good thing, he wasn't in the Order.

He pushed himself up from the edge of the bed and peered around at what had once been Sirius's room. Elizabeth had wanted this room. She said she felt closer to her parents when she was here. Harry wasn't certain if that was a good thing or not, but hadn't wanted to push the matter. She had been through enough. The house-elves had brought most of her things from Fairchild Manor and the room was now scattered with small pieces of Elizabeth. A soft smile crossed his face as he realised the familiar guilt and sorrow no longer washed over him when he passed through the door. His eyes fell on the silver glimmer of her mirror on the bedside table. He leaned over and picked it up. The elf named Prissy had handed this to her with tears brimming in her eyes and Elizabeth had gently hugged it to her, but said nothing. Harry guessed her grandmother had caught her trying to use it and had taken it away. He had started to ask, but decided it didn't matter. Not now, any way. He flipped the mirror over in his hands and stared down at his reflection. As he did, his mind drifted back to Elizabeth's words....

"I was falling, but I somehow knew I would never feel the ground... hundreds of whispers filled my ears, but I felt comforted by them somehow... strangely at peace... as though there were people close by that I just couldn't see... who loved me...."

As the words echoed through his mind, he saw Sirius falling and the veil fluttering violently once more. Harry shook his head to get rid of the image and quickly glanced down at Elizabeth. He suddenly knew she had been closer to seeing Sirius than he ever wanted her to be. She had described the act of dying itself. The whispers were voices of people who had passed on before... who loved her. That was what was behind the veil. That was what he had heard. That was why he had been so drawn to it... before... but not now. He absently reached out and placed his hand on her chest. Her heartbeat thumped faintly against the palm of his hand and his sudden tenseness faded away. She slightly shifted in her sleep and he gently lifted his hand, not wanting to disturb her.

If we had been there a second too late....

If she hadn't been given time....

Harry placed the mirror back on the bedside table and silently strode from the room.

*********************************************************************************************

Draco stared lazily at the rough stone walls of the cavernous kitchen. This is bloody weird, he thought as he silently ate the dinner that he had been deprived of hours earlier. Weasley's mum had seemed genuinely appalled that he hadn't eaten anything and had glared suspiciously at Weasley as she warmed him up a plate of leftovers. Weasley had quickly left the kitchen after that, mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. It took all the determination Draco had in him not to laugh out loud at the sight of Weasley's face when his mum had scowled at him on his behalf. He wanted to fix that image in his memory. When he was satisfied that the image was deeply secured, he subtly glanced around at the different faces at the table enjoying the leftover chocolate éclairs. That strange D.A.D.A. Professor from his fourth year kept giving him the eye and it made him understandably nervous. It had taken him a long time to get over the "bouncing ferret" incident. His eyes shifted to the blue-haired Auror. Her name was Tonker or something like that. She would actually be pretty if she picked a hair colour, preferably blonde or even red, and stuck with it. Every time he had seen her so far she looked completely different. He didn't care that she was a Metamorphmagus and it made her very good at her job, it still gave him the creeps. The huge black wizard named Kingsley Shacklebolt sat next to her. He remembered his father mentioning somewhere that he was a rather formidable Auror and should be avoided at all cost. He was glad to see that he was on Dumbledore's side and he wouldn't have to worry about running into him in some back alley somewhere. The werewolf, Professor Lupin, sat across from him being, as usual, his pleasant self. He had always begrudgingly respected the man. He was rather skilled at teaching D.A.D.A., and he had learned quite a bit from him in the past. Weasley's father sat next to him talking with Kingsley about ministry nonsense. The eldest Weasley brother, Bill, sat across from him, sporting a fang earring and listening intently to whole conversation. The weird part was that none of them seemed to mind his presence in the slightest. Well... except for the bloke with the grotesque face and magical eye. But Draco got the feeling that he was usually paranoid about everyone, not just him. The pathetic part was that he probably had never been in a room where he wasn't expected to play his well-rehearsed part as either the naturally-evil leader of Slytherin house or perfect cold-hearted son/eath Eater. It sort of left him feeling like a duck out of water. The funny part was that he was rather enjoying it.

"Would you like another helping of chicken, dear?" asked Mr. Weasley cheerfully.

Draco opened his mouth to decline the offer, but clearly wasn't quick enough. Mrs. Weasley was already filling his plate again. Quite the motherly type, this one. I wonder how Weasley keeps from ballooning up over the summer.

"Mum, I think he is probably full by now. He's already had seconds," said Ginny, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor playing with Granger's cat and stifling a laugh. "You'll have him looking like Goyle if you're not careful."

"Oh, nonsense," said Mrs. Weasley. "He's a growing boy and growing boys need to eat. Besides, he looks a bit peaky to me. He obviously hasn't been eating enough."

Ginny rolled her eyes at this comment. "Have you completely forgotten who he is, Mum? He isn't some poor little waif off the street. I highly doubt he has ever gone without something to eat," she said with a slight shake of her head.

Draco, who had been about to agree with Ginny for a brief moment, frowned at her last comment, and decided he was going to finish every last morsel of chicken on his plate, purely out of spite. He didn't even care if he became ill later. It was the principle of the thing. No one should ever assume anything about him. Hadn't he proven that already?

"Well, I think it's about time for me to be off," said Kingsley, rising from the table. "Thank you, Molly. The éclairs were delicious."

"Same here, Molly," said Tonker, stifling a yawn and following closely behind Kingsley. "Coming, Mad-Eye?"

"I'll be right behind you. Not keen on too many people leaving at once," growled the grotesque one. "Arouses too much suspicion."

Draco thought about pointing out that close to fifty people had left the house an hour before without any problems, but decided against it. Mad-eye might go wand happy again, and he preferred to be in human form.

Tonker shrugged. "Suit yourself. See you at the office, Arthur. Good night, Remus. Ginny." She patted Draco on the shoulder on her way out, which startled him somewhat. "You too, Draco. Welcome to the right side."

"I'll follow you up, Tonks, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "I want to check on Elizabeth. The poor thing has been through so much."

When Mrs. Weasley had disappeared up the stairs with Tonks and Kingsley, Bill turned to Mr. Weasley with a grin on his face. "Mum loves to mollycoddle people. Don't know what she's going to do when Ron and Ginny leave the house. Probably talk you into adopting a couple more."

"Or... start hounding you about settling down and procuring a suitable quantity of grandchildren for her to fuss over," said Mr. Weasley with a wider grin and a slight chuckle. "Speaking of which...."

"Oh no," said Bill, pushing his chair away from the table. "I believe that's my cue. Thanks for dinner. Tell Mum, I'll see her later this week if I can manage to sneak away from work long enough." Ginny stood and gave her brother a hug. "Merlin's beard. Where has my baby sister gone?" he asked, feigning shock as he returned her hug. "You've got to stop growing up so fast or Dad's right, Mum will be breathing down my neck to settle down. Couldn't you start wearing your hair in pigtails again or something? It might buy me a few more years."

Ginny punched him affectionately in the arm as she let go of him. "You've had plenty of time if you ask me. Mum's just recently stopped treating me like a child. Well, mostly any way. And I'll not give that up for the likes of you, Mr. Weasley," she said tartly, returning his grin.

Draco squelched a sudden pang of envy at their easy banter. He had long ago given up wishing for a family such as this. He had convinced himself that it never really existed. Clearly, he was wrong. But there was no sense begrudging them their closeness; the effort was pointless. Instead, the scene gave him some comfort for the future; no matter how small the possibility might be.

"All right. I know when to bid a hasty retreat," said Bill, holding up his hands in mock defence. "Goodnight all." He turned and pushed open the door.

"Wait a moment. I'll walk you out," said Mr. Weasley hastily pushing himself away from the table then striding toward the door.

"Wonderful. As long as you don't start buzzing in my ear about Fleur. I'm well aware how long we've been dating...." Bill's voice trailed off as the door closed behind them.

Professor Lupin set his cup down on the table and politely stifled a sudden yawn.

"Come on, Remus. No need to dance through the midnight hour on my account," said Mad-Eye abruptly, lumbering to his feet. "I figure, it's safe enough by now."

"You're p-probably right," said Professor Lupin, stifling another yawn. He turned toward Draco as he slowly came to his feet. "I wanted to thank you for being there for Elizabeth when she needed you." He held up a hand as Draco started to shake his head. "No other words are needed. I understand. But I still wanted to say it and I've done so. And now I bid you both good night." He turned and silently walked out of the kitchen ahead of Mad-Eye, who again turned and eyed him suspiciously.

He leaned over and peered intently into Draco's face with both eyes. "I'm not so easily impressed, boy. I'll be watching you," he growled quietly. Draco slightly nodded his head, acknowledging Mad-Eye's menacing words. He suddenly realised if he ever had any doubts about defecting to Dumbledore's side, those words had completely vanquished them. He silently admitted to himself that Mad-Eye scared the hell out of him and he would do anything not to be on the receiving end of any more of his spells. Even if he had to duel the Dark Lord himself. Mad-Eye gave a satisfied grunt then clunked out of the kitchen.

Draco absently glanced down at his half eaten food, trying to get rid of the slight chill that had spread through him as he had returned Mad-Eye's unnatural and intimidating gaze.

"You don't have to finish that, you know?"

Draco almost jumped at the sound of Ginny's voice directly behind him. He had forgotten she was still in the room. She came around the table and sat down across from him as he picked up his fork defiantly and continued eating. She watched him for a moment then grinned at him and shook her head.

"You're going to make yourself sick," she said with a laugh. "Even Ron can't eat that much."

Draco shovelled the last bit of chicken in his mouth, chewed then swallowed. He pushed his plate away as he flashed his signature smirk, refusing to admit she was right even though he felt at any moment he would probably hurl.

"What did you actually prove by doing that?" asked Ginny, leaning over and picking up his plate and carrying it to the sink. "That you could make a complete pig out of yourself?"

Damn her. Draco scowled at her back. He hated how well she could read him. He was obviously losing his touch. He must work on that. "I was hungry," he insisted with a shrug. Granger's cat wound himself once around Draco's legs, purring, then jumped into his lap and curled up.

Ginny snorted as she turned back around to face him. "Yeah, well... keep an appetite like that and you will resemble Goyle by the time you leave here."

A sudden thought drifted through Draco's mind and he smiled at her wickedly as he absently scratched the cat behind the ears. "You're awfully concerned with the way I look, Ginny. Why the sudden interest?" he purred.

Score one for the dragon, thought Draco as he watched a faint blush suddenly appeared on Ginny's cheeks. He noticed she was trying very hard to keep her face neutral. In fact, if it wasn't for the blush, he would think she really didn't have an interest. But she didn't look away from him. Her eyes drifted down to his hands and her expression turned thoughtful.

"Crookshanks likes you," she said softly.

Draco looked down at the cat in his lap and was slightly surprised to find it there. Though not really. Pansy's cat had been fascinated with him as well. He had never been able to study in the Slytherin common room because it wouldn't leave him alone long enough for him to get anything done, much like its owner. "It seems there is something about me that no cat can resist," he said honestly, stroking the cat once more and eliciting a loud purr.

Ginny walked toward him. "That says something about you, Draco. Animals are a bit more intuitive than humans," she said matter-of-factly, leaning down to pick up the cat. Her hand absently brushed his thigh and Draco felt as if he had received a mild electrical shock. It was a slightly uncomfortable feeling, but not unpleasant.

"You didn't answer my question, Ginny," said Draco quietly. He was determined to get an answer.

"I went to retrieve a book from the library earlier and overheard you and Elizabeth talking," she admitted as she averted her gaze and sat down in the seat next to him. "I heard what you said."

"You overheard?" he asked frowning.

Ginny nodded as she stroked the cat in her arms. "I understand feeling completely ashamed for something you had no control over. Thinking you could have done something because if you admitted you had no control, it would terrify you. I understand doing things that you really don't want to do, but not knowing how to stop doing them," She glanced up at him as she continued. "It seems we have something in common. We have both been used by... Him... and have lived to tell the tale."

As Draco looked into her big brown eyes, he saw the pain there and remembered that it had been Ginny who had been possessed by the Dark Lord and had opened the Chamber of Secrets during his second year. Suddenly, it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. She definitely wasn't what he had expected. She had a dark past as well.

He reached out and scratched the cat behind the ears. "So you're saying you're interested in my dark side?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Ginny smiled and Draco found himself smiling as well.

The door to the kitchen creaked open and Ginny abruptly pushed herself away from the table. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw Potter standing in the doorway. "Weasley isn't here," he said in a bored voice as he came to his feet.

"Actually, I was looking for you, Malfoy," said Potter.

Ginny looked from Draco to Potter and back again. "Well, I guess. I'll leave you two alone... if you promise not to kill each other."

"Don't worry, Ginny. I just want to talk to him," said Potter. "I promise he'll leave the room in one piece."

Draco snorted, but Ginny seemed satisfied. "Then I'm off to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Ginny," said Draco and Potter at the same time.

"So what do you want, Potter?" asked Draco. He really wasn't in the mood for another confrontation, but stuck his hand in his robes and found his wand, just in case. Potter was known for his bloody fast reflexes.

Potter's jaw tensed. "I'm not going to pretend to like you because I don't. But I will tolerate you, for Elizabeth's sake."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And you felt the need to search me out and tell me this because...."

"Shut it, Malfoy," growled Potter. "I'm getting to that." He paused and seemed to be having trouble forming the words.

"Careful, Potter. Don't hurt yourself," said Draco with a slight sneer.

Potter looked as if he was an inch away from cursing him and Draco gripped his wand tighter. He knew he was being a git, but for some reason, he couldn't stop himself.

"You're a bastard. You know that, Malfoy?" said Potter quietly.

"What an epiphany...." Draco drawled.

"Thank you, dammit," Potter growled, cutting him off. "Thank you for keeping Elizabeth alive long enough for help to reach her. Thank you for covering my arse in the Great Hall, and thank you for telling me about the ring in the forest," Potter finished in a rush, his teeth clenched as if the words caused him physical pain. Then he turned on his heel and strode out the kitchen door, leaving Draco completely alone in the kitchen.

Draco silently stared at the kitchen door for a moment. His brain had gone completely numb with shock.

Bloody hell! Who could have foreseen that!

Without thinking, Draco dashed up the stairs and yelled, "Hey, Potter!" as he came into the hallway.

Harry stopped on the staircase and glared down at him. "What?" He was clearly expecting a snide comment.

Draco gave him a lopsided grin. "Anytime."

Harry's face was unreadable for a moment then he nodded and started up the stairs, but almost immediately, he swung around again. "I've got one question though." He paused. "Are you in love with Elizabeth?"

Draco looked Harry in the eye for a brief second then shrugged. "Maybe. I've known little of love in my life," he said honestly. "It might be love that I feel for her. I don't know...but I do know, I want to see her happy. If anyone deserves to be, she does. And for reasons that are beyond me, you make her happy."

His answer didn't seem to surprise Harry in the slightest, but he still continued to stare at him for several minutes as if he was trying to read his thoughts. "What?" Draco asked slightly unnerved by Harry's gaze.

"Is that why you defected? Because of Elizabeth?"

"That's two questions, Potter."

Harry slowly stepped down the stairs. "So.... Afraid to answer it?"

Draco glared at Harry. "No. It's not a matter of fear. It's a matter of wanting to," he growled as he started up the stairs past him. "Why would I tell you?"

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm. "Just answer the damn question, Malfoy. Is Elizabeth the reason you defected?"

Draco jerked his arm away and sneered, "You don't put much faith in Dumbledore, do you?" Draco shook his head in disgust. "Think about it, Potter? Do you really believe he would trust me now if the only reason why I'm here was because I was "in love" with Elizabeth? Come on. Even I thought you had more brains than that."

"So are saying you suddenly came to your senses all by yourself?" Harry persisted. "Pure blood no longer matters to you?"

"No. It matters to me," Draco said calmly as he continued up the stairs. "I just don't think you should go around killing everyone who isn't one. It just doesn't make sense to me anymore, that's all. A lot of things that I was raised to believe suddenly seem baseless." He turned back around and looked down at Harry. "Elizabeth might have helped me figure some of it out, but in the end, it was my choice. I made the decision. And that's all you need to know, Potter." He swung back around and strode to the next set of stairs leading to the second landing.

"Malfoy!" Harry called after him and Draco peeked his head over the railing. "Good night."

Draco gave his familiar smirk then continued up the stairs. "Good night, Potter."