Teamwork

5 -- Machinations

Breakfast had even more people in attendance than the day before, but the additions were all from Hogwarts. Harry saw Professor McGonagall tuck a section of the Daily Prophet in her bag as he entered the room. He didn't ask to see it. The sick dread in his stomach probably left him better able to behave than the anger that would replace it.

He kept waiting for someone to scold them about last night's activities, but after both Auror Tonks and Dumbledore had greeted them without their excursion being mentioned, he decided they must not know. He and Draco should tell the Aurors, he knew, but he didn't want to. They couldn't identify either of their attackers -- or even prove they had been attacked -- but someone would question his judgment, and Dumbledore might put him under guard.

After Dumbledore continued on his circuit of the room, Draco leaned close to Harry. "Your Weasley friends kept quiet," he whispered approvingly, and Harry nodded.

Breakfast hadn't arrived yet, so Draco, with a brush of his hand along Harry's shoulder, left to talk to other people in the room. Harry tried not to watch him. When Dumbledore stood at the head of the table, cleared his throat, and asked for people to take their seats, Harry was surprised to see Draco speaking to McGonagall. He was perhaps less surprised to see him passing back a section of the Daily Prophet.

"If I may have your attention, please," Dumbledore said clearly. "For the benefit of those not familiar with the structure of this type of hearing, I would like to review the basic schedule. Today, it is our turn to select and question witnesses. That may continue until the end of the day. After that, they may question our witnesses, and we may question theirs. After that, the Inquisitors will begin direct questioning, and at the end of that, both sides will be allotted a certain time, at young Mr Cabot's discretion, for final statements, and possibly, additional testimony. After that stage concludes, they will deliver a verdict, and we will continue on to Mr Talbot. We must remember that today's testimony is on the matter of Lucius Malfoy's actions only."

Draco, at Harry's side, was sitting with his lips pressed tightly together. Harry thought he looked paler than usual.

"We will start our testimony with Severus Snape," Dumbledore continued. He raised his hand to quiet murmurs around the table. "With his many unique advantages and disadvantages, for they are substantially intertwined." Snape, Harry noticed, looked no better than Draco, though his mouth was tight with a scowl. "After that, we will call either Minerva McGonagall or Draco Malfoy, as the situation warrants. From there, there are more paths yet.

"If you are called, keep the following facts in mind. One: you are testifying against Lucius Malfoy, no one else. Two: your testimony may be effective not only by revealing facts today, but by leading the Inquisitors to probe in particular directions in their turn. Three: you must at all times seem respectful and willing, even if you must deflect a particular line of questioning." He smiled benevolently around at them. "Although I would hope that our preliminary discussions were complete enough that such an action would only be necessary after today." Another smile and a slow nod. "We have twenty minutes until our portkey leaves for the Ministry. Please enjoy your breakfast."

In the courtroom, Harry watched Severus Snape stalk out onto the floor. The man looked like a vampire in a Muggle suspense flick. Harry felt his stomach clench. He leaned toward Draco.

"No one will believe him," he whispered.

"A few will," Draco whispered back. His voice was unsteady, and Harry regretted raising his doubts. "I may be next, and I doubt I'm better."

"Of course you are."

Draco smiled at him uncertainly, and then, to Harry's surprise, settled an arm around Harry's shoulders and tugged him close. "Cuddle," he said, in quiet command.

Harry found it unnerving to be suddenly in the role of the protected -- and he couldn't help but think of it that way -- but they were almost of a height, and it worked as well as the reverse position. It wasn't at all like being a girl, he decided, but it did make him worry that people would think Draco was in charge. Still, it was a relief to be claimed, and he could understand if Draco needed to feel in charge today. He leaned against his boyfriend slightly, and relaxing wasn't as hard as he had expected. He wondered how Draco felt about it when he did that.

From that comfortable position, he looked up and saw Malfoy senior's glare. Spontaneously, he grinned back. Snape, waiting for the signal to speak, saw him and pinched the bridge of his nose as if holding back a headache. Harry didn't pull away from Draco, but he did try for a more solemn expression.

Draco's breath touched the side of his neck. "Mine," he whispered, and Harry shivered.

"Mr Snape." The speaker was Professor McGonagall. Apparently, the questioner didn't need to be a barrister after all. Harry wondered how much of the trial he was misunderstanding by trying to impose a Muggle structure on it. "Please summarize how you know Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy."

Snape nodded curtly. "Lucius Malfoy was Head Boy when I was in my second year at Hogwarts -- and, of course, a prefect in my house the year before that. When I was sixteen, mutual friends brought me to his house to discuss support of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Over--"

"Objection," a wizard for the defense barked out. "These matters were reviewed in court in 1982. Since that time, witnesses have died or vanished, and evidence decayed. For Mr Snape to revive these allegations --"

"Sustained," Cabot clipped out.

"Mr Snape," McGonagall said coolly. "Please minimize your references to events prior to 1982."

Snape nodded curtly. "I became," he said, sending an odd look at Lucius Malfoy, "a friend of the family." His gaze turned to Narcissa in the gallery, who looked coolly back. "I was present in the house when Draco was born, and accepted the position of his spellfather, so I do not believe that assertion is at all tenuous."

Snape's voice shook slightly. Harry had realized how difficult this situation was for Draco, but it had not occurred to him that Snape, despite the resentment of years of hidden opposition to Lucius, might also be similarly torn. Indeed, Snape kept his gaze on Narcissa, like a dog waiting helplessly for some sign of belonging.

"Please continue," McGonagall said, incongruously gently.

"When Draco started school, he was, of course, in my house," Snape said, his attention finally shifting to the young man at Harry's side. "I began to communicate with Lucius again, as teacher to parent, although we had largely fallen out of social contact in previous years."

"So you saw him only as a parent of a student?" McGonagall prompted.

Snape hesitated, but then nodded. "Until Headmaster Dumbledore requested that I return as his spy to the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There, of course --"

"Objection!"

"Denied. Continue, Professor Snape."

Snape nodded acknowledgement at the Special Inquisitor. "As a Death Eater, I of course saw Lucius more frequently, and we slowly resumed some contact outside of the Dark Lord's service and his son's education."

Beside Harry, Draco nodded, as if to himself. Across the floor, Lucius Malfoy managed to look disbelieving and offended.

"Was it your impression that Mr Malfoy wished his son to join him in service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, of course. We discussed it frequently over the last year. Lucius feared the boy was too soft, and felt he should be brought in as soon as possible. I hoped to delay the matter until Draco had acquired more political independence, so I argued for after he left school, saying it would be awkward if Draco and I often vanished at the same time. I had believed I had persuaded him to at least wait until Draco was of age."

"That was recent, was it not?"

"A few weeks ago, yes. I was surprised to see him presented in April." Snape hesitated. "However, I was far more surprised to discover that he was unwilling."

"You expected that he would want to become a Death Eater?"

"Yes. Though as he pointed out to me later, he knew me as someone in his father's circles as a fellow servant of the Dark Lord, and he was quite careful to give me no reason to question his loyalty." Snape's mouth twisted. "When he started to become friendly with Harry Potter, Draco went out of his way to convince me that he was gaining Mr Potter's trust in order that he might betray him later. That caused me much unnecessary anxiety, especially as Potter -- who was equally certain of my opposite allegiance -- blithely told me that Draco would never harm him, and merely didn't trust me." He shrugged. "His opinion was correct, perhaps, but also unwarranted."

"What happened at the meeting? Did you see Lucius and Draco Malfoy arrive?"

Snape scowled. "No. Since people arrive already masked and cloaked, and the Dark Lord -- quite wisely -- discourages socializing before meetings, I did not see them until Draco stepped forward and dropped his hood. He had not been masked, of course, but he had kept his face hidden, nonetheless."

"And what did young Mr Malfoy do?"

"He spoke a few polite words, with all of his father's charm. He then said that before he could take the Mark, there was a slight complication of something that a 'companion at school' had given him. He opened a small pouch at his neck, as if to show what was inside to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but it was a portkey, and when he touched it, he vanished."

"What happened then?"

"Lucius was furious -- and, no doubt, terrified of retribution. He leaped forward to begin the portkey trace even before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named shrieked at him to do so."

"Giles Goyle did not do it, then?"

Snape sneered. "I doubt Giles was capable of performing a portkey trace. No, Lucius cast it, and emerged in the Shrieking Shack in full possession of his wand, with five of us accompanying him. We saw a flash of light through the boards on the windows, and apparated outside to see a silver dragon hanging in the sky, and by its glow, the boy flying away, already out of hexing distance...."

Harry had never heard this story from Snape, and it filled in gaps between his vision and Draco's arrival. He could imagine it: Draco bent low to his broom, fair hair white under his own silver light, black robes flapping behind him as he strove for yet more speed.

A flash of gold shooting towards him fitted into thoughts of flying. Doubt came fast, but not as fast as honed Seeker's reflexes. Harry was already snapping his arm out to grab the tiny Snitch, his body moving too quickly to stop. The arm around his shoulders tightened, and Draco threw his weight back, pulling him away. Harry crashed to the ground on top of him, kicking Professor Flitwick in passing and bruising his shoulder on the edge of the bench. Around them, people were shouting and moving. An orange hex shot overhead.

"NOBODY MOVE!" roared a deep voice. The clatter of footsteps stuttered to silence. Harry stared down at Draco and found him drawing in deep, desperate breaths, as if he had just outrun a manticore. "TONKS," the voice added in a more even tone, only the enhancement of the Sonorus charm keeping it loud. "REPORT."

Tonks, from a few steps away, answered. "THE POSSIBLE TARGETS ARE BOTH HERE AND ALIVE. THE OBJECT IS SECURED."

"GOOD. I STILL DON'T WANT ANYONE MOVING AROUND, BUT YOU MAY ALL SIT IN THE NEAREST SEAT.

Carefully, and with belated regret, Harry extricated himself from Draco's hold and moved back onto the bench. Tonks had the Snitch in a magical net that sparked slightly when fluttering wings dragged against the purple lines of it. Harry looked across the room to where he thought the Snitch had come from, and saw the forgettable Auror moving along the back wall, his attention on the spectators below him. It was possible he was a plant and a threat, but it seemed more likely that he was looking for the source of the trouble. A far more obvious movement was the large, black Auror striding across the room. He opened the gate of their enclosure and was up beside Tonks in three great strides.

"What did you find?" he said, his voice hushed now, but clearly the one that had been giving orders before.

"A Snitch, with randomization and evasion charms presumably deactivated. It's also a portkey," Tonks replied.

"Huhn. We should get someone from Artifacts in to trace it." The Auror looked over at them. "Potter, Malfoy -- are you all right?"

"Just bruised, sir," Draco answered.

"Draco pulled me down, so yeah," Harry said, appreciating what a narrow escape that had been. "Bruised, but okay."

The Auror touched his throat with his wand.

"A Snitch portkey, sir. The boys are both Seekers -- either might have been the target."

In front of Special Inquisitor Cabot, a quill scribbled on a paper. He read the message and stood. "Under the circumstances, I think we shall call a recess--"

The bland Auror was moving down through the tiers, now. Harry jumped up onto the bench.

"No!" he shouted. The Inquisitors looked taken aback. Unable to cast a Sonorus charm, Harry had to settle for just projecting. "No one was hurt. Someone tried to take me out, or to take Draco out, and we should not give them time to make new plans. Let's get on with it."

There was some scattered clapping, and even more scattered laughter. The Inquisitors leaned towards each other. Draco tugged at Harry's hand, and Harry, suddenly embarrassed at his own presumption, sat. Eventually, Percy Weasley stood up.

"This hearing will continue while we await the arrival of additional Aurors. Professor McGonagall? You may continue to question the witness."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. Harry thought she was trying not to smile. "Severus? You were telling us about the chase?"

Snape straightened. "Yes. I had expected the boy to land at the doors, but he stayed high, heading for a tower...."

Snape told about how a window had opened just in time to admit Draco, and how, with no time to pause, he had bent down and tucked up his feet to go straight through, and how someone -- either Lucius, whose hood was down, or the person directly behind him -- had struck him with the Cruciatus curse as he passed over the window ledge. He talked about landing on the lawn, and the attack by the staff, and how, in a split-second judgment, he had attacked his companions from behind, rather than fighting with them against his patron, Professor Dumbledore. His painfully tense delivery did nothing to rob the account of its excitement, and many members of the Wizengamot were on the edge of their seats. Still, Harry wasn't sure they believed him the way they did Lucius.

Snape's testimony went on until the lunchtime recess, when Tonks once again escorted them -- or Draco, really, Harry reminded himself -- from the courtroom. Before they made it through the doors, a spectator -- not in somber Wizengamot garb, but in elegant robes of soft cream that were both feminine and modest in cut -- moved down the seats to intercept them.

"Mother," Draco greeted her.

"Mrs Malfoy," Harry said neutrally.

She nodded at him, the gesture gracious enough to surprise him.

"Mr Potter. So good to see you again. You would not mind, I hope, if I deprived you of my son's company for the next hour?"

Harry looked querulously at Draco, but despite his lover's obvious pleasure, he couldn't make himself step back. He knew that Draco trusted his mother, but was less certain that such trust was deserved. The Auror came to his rescue.

"You can't take him anywhere without me, I'm afraid," she said cheerily. "But I can stay at a discreet distance."

"Oh, yes." Draco looked torn. "Mother," he said neutrally, "this is Auror Tonks, who has been assigned to protect me. And she's quite right -- I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, and I have been attacked twice."

"Of course, dear." Narcissa nodded regally. Harry felt a flash of indignation at the way she acted as if the Auror's name meant nothing to her.

He finally managed to speak. "As long as you have adequate protection." He nodded at Mrs Malfoy, including her in his consent, but spoke to Draco. "Enjoy your lunch."

That left him alone, wondering morosely how he would make it anywhere without being mobbed by reporters. A black robed figure stalked by.

"Are you coming, Potter?" it called in passing. "Or are you planning on a repast of stray memorandums?"

Harry hurried to catch up. Not surprisingly, Snape was also accompanied by an Auror, although this one gave the impression of trailing awkwardly after the intimidating professor.

"Thanks," Harry said, as they were hustled down a back corridor. "Draco and Auror Tonks went off with Draco's mum--"

"Idiot." Snape's disapproval was too mild to be alarming. "She loves him, but that should not be enough to give him confidence. The Auror was on her guard?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Snape's Auror escort stepped through the Floo, and Snape followed without a word of farewell. Harry expected him to be gone when he stepped out at the Leaky Cauldron, but Snape was hovering near the grate, and immediately seized him just under the elbow.

"If I may have a moment of your time, Mr. Potter?"

"Okay."

Harry tried to pull loose without appearing to struggle, but Snape pretended not to notice. Trailed by the guard, they went up the stairs to the secure rooms, and Harry found himself released into a bedroom much like his own, while Snape told the Auror guard to remain outside in the corridor.

The first thing Snape did was to write "Tureen soup, two bowls, one cup" on the slate by the door, an amenity that Harry had forgotten. That settled, he transfigured his trunk into a chair, floated it over to another chair of unknown origin, and motioned Harry to sit. Harry leaned against the back of it, instead.

"What is it?" he asked pointedly, and Snape, who had set up pacing in the narrow space between chairs and bed, paused to roll his eyes.

"Your sense of self-preservation still leaves much to be desired, Potter," he announced, and for a moment, Harry was afraid that he knew about last night's attack. If he had heard from his fellow Death Eaters.... Belatedly, Harry remembered that Snape was now known to have betrayed Voldemort, and the Death Eaters were unlikely to be telling him anything.

Snape was continuing, apparently oblivious to the direction of Harry's thoughts. "This morning's scene could not have been better if we'd orchestrated it. An apparent attack on you will restore much of the public's good feeling for you. However, you are a complete idiot. If they had waited until Draco was testifying, you would be dead."

"It's a reflex!"

Snape turned and sneered at him as if he had just said something abysmally stupid. "And everyone knows it. Seekers have been assassinated that way before, you fool!"

"Really?"

"Yes."

Severus thumped down into his chair. "You'll survive this. We will survive this. You have kept your temper admirably, Potter. Continue to do so."

"I'll try my best." Harry looked down. "I, uh, decided not to look at the papers this morning. I was afraid it would make me, um...."

"Angry?" Snape suggested. "Defensive? Yes, probably. They've picked up on the idea that you are an out-of-control mess." He shrugged. "By the end of the week, you will no doubt be a healthy young lad having a bit of fun."

Harry frowned. "I think I'm something in between, really."

"Of course you are." Snape turned to stare at him, dark and intense even in the strangely intimate room. "People love to talk about darkness and light, but truth is always grey."

Harry laughed. There was nothing funny about it, he just felt strangely lighter at the pronouncement.

"I don't think I'm supposed to agree with you."

Snape settled back, a slight smirk curving his lips. "Yet you do." At a knock on the door, he flicked his wand at it, and a young woman came in with their soup.

"Well, let's keep that between ourselves, shall we?" Harry suggested. The surreality of lunching with Snape was catching up with him. Snape had a flash of that young, sly look that Harry had seen during their lessons.

"Indeed."

Lunch with Snape bordered on pleasant, and afterwards, Snape insisted that Harry share his escort back to the trial. While they were crossing the public room, however, a familiar figure moved to intercept them.

"May I have a word, Potter?" Blaise Zabini asked coolly.

Harry glanced at Snape. "I'm getting a lot of that."

"If you wish to converse, I believe we have five minutes leeway." Snape frowned briefly at Zabini before returning his attention to Harry. "I was not aware that you had other connections in my house."

Harry shrugged. He wasn't sure Zabini qualified. "Wait then. I'll stay in sight."

He led Zabini to the wall, moving out of earshot. "Go ahead."

Zabini glanced nervously at Snape, but he didn't ask questions. "I want you to know that I haven't forgotten my obligation."

It took Harry a moment to sort through the formal words and recall that the Slytherin had offered to send him a bottle of something.

"Oh, that. I thought you hadn't figured out Muggle post."

"I hadn't realized you were underage." Blaise bit his lip. "I thought it advisable to wait."

Harry laughed. "God. When I'm old enough, I can buy it myself." At Zabini's tense look, he recalled Draco's opinion about Harry's tastes being over Zabini's budget. "Look, don't worry about it, okay? If you feel like you need to do something, you can just owe me a little favor."

Zabini looked uneasy. "How little?"

"I'll ask when I think of something, and if you tell me that the thing is too much, I'll let it go, and you'll still owe me."

Zabini nodded stiffly. "Accepted."

"Good."

They shook hands, the action formal and strange, and Harry returned to Snape.

"An agreement?"

"That he'll do some unspecified thing for me at some unspecified time in the future. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh?" Snape's eyebrows came up. "Worry, no. Keep an eye on? Perhaps."

The Auror cleared his throat impatiently, and the three made their way to the Floo.

Snape was conservative in his timing, and members of the Wizengamot were still trailing in when they reached the enclosure for the defense. Draco had his head lowered in a sullen manner that Harry recognized all too well. He jumped when Harry slipped in beside him.

"Problems?" Harry whispered.

"I'll tell you later. For now, don't get upset at my testimony. I've arranged something with McGonagall."

Indeed, as soon as everyone settled down, Professor McGonagall called Draco to testify. Harry was apprehensive, but at first, Draco hardly mentioned him. He talked about his father's expectations for him, and how he knew he was supposed to swear fealty to Lord Voldemort, and about the unusual summons home and the list of Dark curses that he was to study. Only then did he mention speaking to Harry, and Harry's insistence that he could get out of it.

"Of course, we had to bring Hermione Granger in on it, as by then, I had got Harry in enough trouble that he couldn't go anywhere without a prefect." Draco straightened and set his shoulders back. "And yes, I do mean that." He looked nervously at McGonagall. "He didn't get in that sort of trouble without me to instigate it. Not that I wanted to get him in trouble, but he can be such a grim hero. I felt that he needed some time as a wild young man."

McGonagall hesitated. Harry thought she was likely to agree with the first point, if not the second, but then she pursed her lips and lifted her head to look down her nose at him. "As I recall, you were not responsible for that particular punishment, Mr. Malfoy. You were at Hogwarts when the Muggle village was attacked."

"Oh." Draco bit his lip, and then tossed his head in a way that seemed guaranteed to look guilty. "I was there at the start, whatever he said. I'd got us the cognac and even brought goblets. Can you imagine if the Death Eaters had known? Harry Potter, right by the village green, too drunk to fly, never mind fight, when they displayed the Dark Mark?" Draco cocked his head to the side, a slight smile on his face. Harry thought he didn't need to look so entertained by the idea. Whispers spread through the gallery.

"I am not amused, Mr Malfoy."

"Oh, neither was I. I got him away, of course."

"You what?" Lucius Malfoy had jumped to his feet and nearly shouted the question. Hands grabbed at his sleeves.

Draco put on a sullen pout. "He's mine. I don't want your lot getting their hands--"

"You TRAITOR!" His father's ivory face was red with rising blood. "I'll diso--"

Another two people helped the defense counsel pull Lucius down to his seat, and he silenced abruptly, sagging forward into his hands as he realized how much he had said.

"Temper, temper, Father." Draco smiled thinly. "But yes, it could have been that easy, if I'd still approved of your murderous pursuits." Decisively, he returned his attention to McGonagall. "Should I tell you about the list of curses? It might be better if Aurors asked us individually for specifics. Harry and Hermione won't remember all of them, but I showed the list to both of them, and Professor Snape received another copy from my father."

McGonagall studied him for a minute. The staccato hisses and pops of whispers continued to come from scattered locations around them. This time, Harry enjoyed speculating on what those whispers must be. Traitor, is it? Did you see his face? Didn't sound so unwilling to be a Death Eater, did he? On the other hand, more than one member of the Wizengamot was rubbing his or her forehead as if to stave off a headache.

McGonagall lifted her head. "I have many more questions for you, Mr Malfoy, but few pertain to the trial. No, take your seat, for now."

She's giving them time to whisper, Harry realized, smiling proudly at Draco as he watched him make his way back to the empty place beside him. Their hands met and clasped immediately, fingers intertwining.

"I'm so glad that worked," Draco whispered. "I was afraid it wouldn't, and then you'd be angry--"

He looked up. Someone poked Harry, and he realized he had heard his name.

"If you have finished your conversation, Mr Potter?" McGonagall asked tartly.

In front of the Wizengamot, that was worse than in lessons. Harry straightened, alarmed, and tried to play back the seconds that he hadn't been paying attention. She couldn't have called him as a witness, could she?

She had. Harry slunk down the stairs, but then, noticing his manner, straightened. It was just McGonagall, right? And she wanted him to look good, really. It wasn't like he was being called by the defense. His dress robes swung around his legs, first one way, then the other, as he crossed the floor to the witness chairs.

It was clear that the tide of the trial had turned. When people whispered, their eyes went to Lucius more than to Harry. While Harry was talking about waiting for their arranged signal, he saw a note flutter down to the prosecution's box. Dumbledore caught it, and when Harry's testimony was over, he beckoned McGonagall over, and stood to take her place.

"Next, the prosecution calls Narcissa Cassiopeia Black Malfoy."

Harry's head turned of its own accord to see Narcissa rise to her feet in the gallery. She floated down the stairs in her cream robes, looking innocent and flawless as an angel. A quick glance at Draco showed him sitting still, hands folded in his lap, knuckles white from the force of his grip.

Dumbledore nodded gravely at her. "You wished to speak, Narcissa?"

"Please." Narcissa stood straight. She looked pale and slender against the dark wood and stone behind her. It was easy to imagine that she was frail, but Harry suspected her slight form was no more yielding than a steel blade.

"I would like to say that my husband honors his family and his heritage." As Harry silently cursed the woman, her head lifted still further. "But it would not be true."

That produced a buzz of reaction. Harry wondered what she was playing at.

"It is how I remember him. I have hoped and striven for the return of the gentleman that I married, but the Dark Lord has infected him with some madness more insidious than compulsion, and his decline is now more than I can conceal, with my son at risk."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "To the best of your knowledge, did Lucius take Draco willingly to be Marked?"

"Yes, of course. He had started to prepare him the previous summer. He spent much of August instructing Draco in Dark Arts." Narcissa sighed. "Including, I am afraid, at least one of the Unforgivable curses. When Draco had ... difficulty mastering the Cruciatus curse, and I protested the tutelage, he demonstrated it on --" She looked down, and her shoulders bent. "On both of us."

That was it, Harry realized, as mutters of disbelief competed with gasps of outrage. Unforgivable meant just that. If she made this charge stick, the trial was over. He wondered if it was actually true. He didn't doubt Lucius had cast that curse on Draco -- after all, Draco had told him so last winter, and in a late-night confession, when people often spoke truths under the cover of darkness. To commit such a crime on a proud, adult woman seemed far riskier, however, than to do so to an underage dependant.

On the floor, Narcissa straightened. "A gentleman does not so heinously mistreat his heir or his well-born wife. I can no longer trust his judgment. That in one of his rages he would be mad enough to pursue Draco to Hogwarts Castle itself, I do not doubt."

"You consider, then, Professor Snape's account to be more reliable than your husband's?"

Delicately, Narcissa hesitated. "I cannot claim to trust either," she answered finally. "Severus Snape, I find, has deceived us for years about his loyalties, so I can hardly expect honesty from him. However, I know that Lucius took Draco to that meeting to be Marked for service to the Dark Lord, and that he had planned for that event with pride, so his testimony starts with a lie. No, in all of this, the one I believe is Draco, my son." Her eyes sought out her son in the crowd and she gazed at him lovingly. Then, to Harry's surprise, her attention moved to him, her look growing more speculative. "And, though I would never have thought to say it, Mr Potter, who seems a more thoughtful young man than certain people would have us believe."

Testimony continued, through a steady buzz of background conversation, but Harry doubted any of it mattered. Draco sat ramrod straight, jaw clenched, as the talking continued. When the day was over, Harry was relieved to lead him back to his room. He scarcely noticed Auror Tonks beside them, even when she tripped over a dog lying by someone's chair in the Leaky Cauldron.

When they were alone, he took Draco's hands, but Draco didn't look at him. "Is there anything--"

"No!" Draco pulled free. "No, there is nothing you can do. I'm angry and hurt and humiliated, and winning isn't helping at all, because he's my father, and I don't want--" He stopped abruptly, his cheeks burning red.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "I can see ... there's no way it could end that you'd like, is there? But this is better than him staying at large."

"Is it? I'm seventeen, now. A legal adult. He can't demand I return."

"That wouldn't keep him from sending his thugs after you, would it? He's vicious, Draco. You know it."

Draco turned away, as if the grey sky outside his window was fascinating. "I know. That doesn't make it easier. Talk about something else, Harry. Do you have plans for your birthday?"

The sudden false brightness of that query was dismaying. Harry sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's complicated. Will you keep a secret?"

That got Draco to look at him, even if his expression was scornful. "Of course."

"All right. It's like this. Supposedly, living with my mother's family protects me somehow. Dumbledore told me that when I tried to get out of it."

Draco nodded. "Thus the presents -- just like you have to live there, they have to give you a Christmas present each year, so the spell believes that you are family."

Harry shrugged. "If you say so. I'm not, really, but-- Well, I suspect this protection will end when I legally become an adult." He waited for Draco's nod, and when he had received it, continued with more confidence. "Voldemort probably knows it too, so I think that he'll attack as soon as it's my birthday, and that Dumbledore will see to it that I'm not there."

Draco's mouth twisted. "But no one has told you anything?" he guessed.

"Of course not. Dumbledore will spring it on me right before, I'm sure." Harry hesitated. "I plan to be gone before then."

"Really." Draco stepped closer. His expression was unreadable. "And where will you be?"

"Well, that's the problem." Harry stood. He didn't like Draco looking down at him. "Originally, I had thought here, but Tom would tell Dumbledore--"

"But you'd die," Draco amended fiercely.

"I wouldn't go out except under the cloak."

"Even so--"

"Since I can't get around Tom, it doesn't matter!" With a huff, Harry leaned against the wall. "You don't have a spare flat in London, do you?"

"If I did, it would have been my father's, and his associates might have ways into it."

"Do any of your friends--"

Draco laughed. "And I'd tell them what?"

"I might be able to rent a place in Muggle London, if you'd do the Confundus charms and such for me."

"No." Draco bit his lip. He settled into the chair. "Harry, anything could happen to you there."

"I won't stay!"

"Calm down, Potter, will you?" Draco pushed his hair back. "Harry. Have you considered confronting Dumbledore? Tell him it's Hogwarts or nothing? Or the Weasel's place, if you'd rather."

"He'll still keep me there as long as he can!" Harry protested. "And I won't have the Dursleys killed. They deserve something, but not that. And we can't feed Voldemort information through Snape anymore, so I'll need him to know that I'm missing, and there's no point in going to Little Whinging."

"But then they'll look for you! You can't stay any place he'd expect! Except Hogwarts, I suppose." With a huff of annoyance, Draco stood. "Let's order dinner. I could scarcely manage a bite at lunch, and it's been an exhausting day."

"You're changing the subject!"

"Yes, I am. Do you think this place can manage pheasant? Perhaps if they send someone out to poach it...."

"Stop it. I want you to help me."

"I will not help you get killed, certainly not to protect some Muggles that even you despise."

Harry glowered. "And to keep me sane?"

"Don't be dramatic."

"Two more weeks at the Dursleys, I can take, but if it ends up capped by one or more of them dying...."

"We will ask Dumbledore if you might come to Hogwarts. It is worth trying, Harry. It would be simple, safe, and give us time together. Surely you cannot object to that?"

He couldn't object, Harry knew. He also knew that he wouldn't stop there if Dumbledore said no.