Veniam Dare

Veniam Dare Chapter 2: The Return

"Break, break, break, On they cold gray stones, O sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me." -Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"I have found out there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them" -Mark Twain

***

Dumbledore still stood on top of the Astronomy Tower, perched against the wall in an effort to recover his strength. The drink had taken too much out of him, and he knew his time was coming to end.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle from below grew louder, and the thumps of many people climbing the stairs to the tower could be heard.

"So, this is how it will end," Dumbledore whispered to himself, letting the gentle late spring breeze play across his face. He had always enjoyed this time of year. He closed his eyes and let himself relax into it, savoring the feel.

The footsteps became louder, and the door burst open to reveal Severus Snape, tinted green by the Dark Mark glowing overhead. "Master, are you alright?" he yelled as he walked warily towards Dumbledore, although little of the panic he was feeling carried through to his voice or features. This was the moment he had feared ever since the night he took the Unbreakable Vow. He had known this was coming, and seeing Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age, so weak and frail only confirmed his thoughts. After years of being a double agent, however, he had learned to mask most everything.

"Ah, Severus, it's good to see you," Dumbledore said cordially, although a slight cough at the end served to remind Snape of the headmaster's vulnerability.

Snape halted his slow walk forwards. "You know I cannot, Sir," he said, eyes locked on Dumbledore's but voice still devoid of emotion.

More feet were heard running up the stairs behind them.

"Severus... please..." Dumbledore said softly, his eyes never leaving the younger man's. He knew his time was running out, and this was his only chance.

Snape took a deep breath in, and raised his wand.

Four Death Eaters burst in behind him. "Haha! Look what we have here!" one yelled.

A sudden look of fury and loathing crossed onto Snape's face, the first emotion he had shown during the entire exchange.

Dumbledore's eyes still bored into Snape's, and Snape glared back. "Avada Kadavra!" Snape's cry echoed menacingly through the air, carrying with it the finality of death.

The blindingly green light from Snape's wand hit the old man squarely in the chest as the stone wall behind him gave way, sending him over the edge of the tower, to finally lie in a broken heap on the ground.

The manic laughter of several voices rang through the cold night air.

***

Harry tentatively opened his eyes again, which had been squeezed shut for the duration of his Floo trip. Stepping out of the ashy fireplace, he was reminded of the presence of the boy next to him when he realized his hand was being held. By Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy realized the same thing.

They both dropped the others' hand at the same time and made twin faces of disgust.

"Oh, Harry dear, I'm so glad to see you safe!" Harry's head snapped away from Draco at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice. She quickly ran up to him and engulfed him in a big hug.

Draco stood by, arms crossed and look of disgust even more pronounced. "If I had known she was going to be here I might not have come."

Harry tried to push away from the woman so as to yell at Malfoy, but she tightened the hug so he couldn't escape. "Don't pay attention to him, Harry," she whispered calmly, although it sounded as if her teeth were clenched.

"Mrs. Weasley, I need to get back to Hogwarts. The Death Eaters--" Harry said as soon as she released him.

A rare look of worry crossed onto her face. "Yes, yes, I know about the Death Eaters, Harry. Bill is there now. But I'm under strict orders from Dumbledore not to let you go," she interrupted.

"But," Harry sputtered, "I have to go! There are Death Eaters in Hogwarts! And...and Ron and Hermione and Ginny, they're all there! I have to go!"

Mrs. Weasley simply shook her head. "I'm sorry, Harry. I would be there now, too, if I weren't under orders. We just have to trust Dumbledore. He's the greatest wizard there is; he'll sort it all out."

Harry was about to protest when Malfoy spoke up. "The second greatest, you mean."

At the silence and blank looks that greeted this, Draco continued. "Dumbledore's second greatest wizard there is, after the Dark Lord."

An even thicker silence resulted from this comment.

"No, I meant what I said. Dumbledore is the greatest wizard," Mrs. Weasley replied sternly.

Before Draco could throw back an insult, she continued loudly, "Well, we best get you settled, Draco." There was a slight hostility in the way she said his name. "We don't know how long you'll be here."

Draco sneered in response to Mrs. Weasley's brush-off. "When's my mother arriving?"

"Your mother will be hidden in another location, to decrease the risk of finding either of you," said Mrs. Weasley.

This, apparently, was something Draco had not bargained for. "What do you mean, in another location?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed completely undaunted by his dangerous tone. "It's for the best, Draco. Now then, there's a room set up for you in--"

"When I said I would come here, it was under the pretense that my mother would also come here! If she's not here, then I can't be either!" Draco interrupted. He had just planned out a scheme to murder the damned Headmaster, simultaneously letting bloodthirsty Death Eaters into the castle to wreak havoc on all his classmates, had then turned on the cause he was conditioned to believe in, and now he wasn't even allowed to be in the same bloody house as his own bloody mother! The injustice sent waves of petulance and anger through Draco.

"Look, Malfoy," Harry finally cut in, "If you want to go back and get yourself killed by the Death Eaters you just betrayed, that's fine with me!" His voice had risen to a shout.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Show me my room, but if it's not up to my standards, I'm leaving."

Harry rolled his eyes at Mrs. Weasley.

***

"What is this!" Draco spat upon seeing his breakfast the next morning. He hadn't yet recovered from the shock of yesterday's events, and chills ran down his spine at the thought of what he had done, but his favorite sport, Harry-baiting, was bound to relieve a bit of his stress.

"It's food, Malfoy," Harry replied, teeth gritted. He'd had to put up with Draco's whining all evening, and now he almost wished he had actually sent Draco back to the Death Eaters when he'd had the chance the previous night.

"And to think that I always believed Hogwarts food was rubbish," he muttered, pulling a face at his eggs and toast.

Before Mrs. Weasley had left for her morning errands, she had cooked them breakfast, and a quite delicious one, at least in Harry's opinion.

"Malfoy, it's fine. Just eat it," he hissed at the blonde.

"Shut up, Potter. No one asked you."

"You did."

"Well, shut up anyway, Scarhead."

They had been bickering like this all morning. Harry didn't know how much more he could stand. Hopefully, though, Dumbledore would call him back to Hogwarts sometime today, where he could live out the last few weeks of the year searching for more Horcruxes.

Harry was also just a little worried. Why had Dumbledore not contacted him? Why had he not heard any news about Hogwarts? And why had Mrs. Weasley left him and Draco alone, when she knew they would probably end up murdering each other. Or, more than likely, Harry would end up murdering the git before Draco even had a chance to cast a curse.

A memory suddenly flashed into his mind. Sectum Sempra. The blood seeping out of Draco's prone form, Harry crouched beside him, horrified at what he had done.

Perhaps this mission was Dumbledore's way of testing him, of making sure he had grown enough since that time to be able to handle the task of the finding and destroying the Horcruxes.

Harry would definitely show him.

Draco noticed the look of defiant determination that crossed Harry's face, and snorted. "Going to go get yourself killed, Potter? Can't you hurry it up a bit or something?" he asked with enough malice to make a small child burst into tears.

Harry glared for a split second, but then promptly cleared his face of all emotion. He couldn't let that stupid arse Draco one-up him from going on the Horcrux-finding mission.

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to push Potter's buttons. The boy was far too easy to read, but that only meant Draco never failed at riling him. "Need your nappy changed first?" he added scathingly.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Harry replied evenly, "Actually, I'm just a little tired of sitting here listening to you whine." In all truth, Draco was in fact riling him. Harry just had to maintain control.

Before Draco could fire out a retort, Harry had stood up from the table and walked out of the kitchen, looking forward to some solitude in the sitting room.

Draco's eyes followed Harry out, but then moved back to the other boy's seat, a sneer growing on his face. "The bloody ape can't even clean up after himself."

***

By lunchtime, Harry decided he had had enough of babysitting Draco Malfoy; it was now time for some serious action. There had been no word from Mrs. Weasley, nor from anyone else in the Order, and Harry's natural curiosity and hero-complex were starting to get the best of him

He paced nervously in front of the fireplace, fingering the bag of Floo powder Dumbledore had given him. Even if this was a test, Harry didn't think he could stand much more of it. Draco could take care of himself, and certainly had nowhere to run to, especially since he knew nothing of his or his mothers' current whereabouts.

Harry could Floo to Hogsmeade, and from there travel up the road to Hogwarts. Dumbledore, or at least a former member of the DA, would probably be there and could explain what had happened. Harry was also terribly worried about his friends' well being, and perhaps this little visit could help assuage his worries. Then, if all was well, he could return to the Grimmauld Place. The whole ordeal would take no more than an hour, in which time Malfoy could entertain himself by torturing a small animal, or some such Malfoy-ish hobby.

Harry nodded to himself, mind made up. It really couldn't hurt to go.

He was just about to open the bag of powder and take a pinch when Draco spoke up from the doorway behind Harry. "Abandoning your duties already, Potter?" The tone of his voice suggested that there was a smirk plastered onto his face.

Harry sighed inwardly. He had been so close to escaping the git. "I was going to get news of the little fiasco you caused yesterday, actually," said Harry, not bothering to hide his annoyance or turn to face Malfoy.

"Then I'm coming too," Malfoy said resolutely. This made Harry turn around to face him, shocked.

He was surprised to notice the seriousness of Draco's countenance. There was no trace of his usual sneer.

"You'll be much safer here," Harry said, truly puzzled at Draco's unusual display. He was perhaps the biggest coward in all of Hogwarts, so it would be quite illogical for him to go willingly out into danger.

Draco noticed Harry's condescending puzzlement and sniffed haughtily. "Listen, I am not going to be left in this disgusting house to rot and be forgotten. I'm coming with you, Potter." His tone was unyielding.

Harry shook his head in disbelieving amusement. Draco was probably just afraid to be in Grimmauld Place alone. Harry honestly couldn't blame him, it was rather creepy, but it still seemed irrational to want to leave the relative safety of the house when you were number two on Voldemort's wanted list.

Of course, Harry was number one, and he had absolutely no qualms about leaving the decrepit building.

"Fine, Malfoy," Harry said resignedly. He wasn't much in the mood for a fight, and just wanted to get out of the suffocating house.

Malfoy's smirk returned in triumph, but Harry was standing in the fireplace shouting the Three Broomsticks' address before Draco could take a shot at his easy acquiescence.

It was only after he had landed dizzyingly in its fireplace that he realized that choosing the Three Broomsticks to Floo to might not have been the best of ideas.

Harry stepped speechlessly out of the fire, mouth agape at the wreckage that had previously been the pub. Draco arrived seconds later and seemed just as shocked.

The tables lay turned over, legs broken off and lying amidst piles of broken glass from the shattered bottles that had once neatly lined the shelves. The curtains were torn up, and all the torches extinguished, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Harry felt Draco shiver behind him.

"They were here," the boy whispered, moving forward to stand beside Harry.

Harry looked at Draco, noticing how frighteningly pale Draco looked, and was suddenly afraid to ask whom Draco was talking about.

Draco clarified without prompting. "The Death Eaters." His voice was soft and terrifying in a way Harry had never thought possible from the pompous Slytherin.

Harry found a chill creeping down his own spine. "Malfoy, let's get out of here," he said equally as quietly, as if speaking any louder would upset the scene. It was now a burial ground, a place of rest, not to be disturbed.

Draco nodded in agreement, and the two slowly wove their way through the debris to the door. In silence, they moved down the deserted streets of Hogsmeade, both fully aware of the eeriness of the scene. There were absolutely no sounds save their own footsteps echoing dully around the road, as if the whole world had left them to their demise.

Harry practically jumped when the sound of a creaking gate also filled the air. Looking up, startled, he realized it was Hogwarts' gate, swinging gently in the breeze. Hogwarts' gate was never open unattended.

Judging by Draco's quick intake of breath, he had noticed this too. "Why's the gate open?" he said in a hushed voice.

Harry shook his head. "Dunno. Maybe...maybe they're expecting visitors? Or someone just forgot to close it..." he said, more to reassure himself than Draco.

"No, that can't be it. They're never just left open like that. Somebody...must have not bothered to close it...maybe after rushing out in a panic..."

Harry was suddenly very angry at Draco for even suggesting such a thing. "Shut the fuck up, Malfoy," he spat, irrational rage flooding through his body, making his fists clench tightly.

Draco was taken aback at Harry's abrupt show of anger, and blusteringly tried to cover up this up with a quick retort. "Been hit by one too many stupefy's or something, Potter?"

Harry shot him the most hate-filled glare Draco had ever seen. "You bastard. How can you even talk like that? How can you say such things, when this is entirely your fault! Where the fuck do you get off speaking about this mess as if you had absolutely no part in it!" Harry's voice had started out controlled, but was quickly rising to a snarling shout.

"You let the fucking Death Eaters in here yourself! You plotted the whole damn thing!" he continued, and Draco noticed that Harry's wand had somehow made its way to his hand, and his hand was shakily making its way to Draco's throat. "You are a fucking Death Eater!" Harry hissed.

This time, Draco was devoid of a scathing, or even witty, retort. The look on Harry's face rendered him speechless. It was not a look of hatred, or even anger, but a look of pain and sorrow, the likes of which Draco had never seen. "I...I'm not a Death Eater, not yet. I guess now...not ever." His voice sounded so small compared to Harry's forceful words.

The two stood in their tableau for several interminably long seconds more, both breathing heavily. Harry from exertion and emotion, Draco from fear and confusion.

A sharp wind blew through the air, swirling dust around the pair, and the gate groaned again loudly. The noise seemed to shock Harry out of his fit. He screwed shut his eyes and looked away from Draco, shakily lowering his wand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Draco narrowed his eyes guardedly, although was relieved to be freed from Potter's wandpoint. "Fuck right you're sorry, Potter," he hissed, trying to put up a confident and disaffected air, as if Potter's outburst had not truly rattled him. The trembling breath he let out gave his true relief away, though.

Harry slipped his wand back into his robes. "Yeah, I really am."

Without glancing again at Draco, he walked through the open gates and towards the foreboding black castle looming farther up the path.

Draco wanted desperately to go anywhere but back there. For all his arrogant words and denial, he actually was horrified at what he had done. Harry didn't even know the worst parts: that many Death Eaters, including a werewolf, had actually entered the castle, and a serious battle had broken out, wounding many. Draco had never meant for people, especially his fellow students, to get hurt, no matter how malicious he imagined himself to be. He had simply been given a mission by the Dark Lord himself, and one never defied the Dark Lord.

Draco shivered when he realized that, in essence, he just had.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

Still, he had made his choice, and he couldn't just waltz back to Voldemort and expect forgiveness or mercy, no matter how much he regretted his decision. At least his mother was safe, although he didn't know where "safe" might be.

With these thoughts swirling through his head, he continued after Harry. He couldn't turn back. It was far too late for that.