Declaro: Rites of Spring

The Knight's Tale

It took Harry ten minutes to convince himself that meeting Malfoy was the stupidest thing he could do. By the time he'd had tea and avoided cake with Hagrid, and listened to a very detailed story about the possibilities of miniature swamp dragons as familiars, according to a fellow Hagrid met in the pub, he knew he had to do it. Once they'd prepared the pen for a baby hippogriff and washed up, he'd come to his senses again.

He would keep an eye on Malfoy. He blushed at the thought and then again at being so stupid. So he thought Malfoy was sexy - just him and the entire school. He'd heard the girls in Gryffindor on the subject many times. Hermione thought it was ironic. Angel-Draco she'd called him for several months in 5th year after they'd ambushed him with snowballs: his cool glare in pale fur against the stark white. . . and fuck he was getting hard over Malfoy. . . over a snowball fight with Malfoy. He definitely hadn't then. One of their first joint aggressive spells and they'd showered Malfoy in snow, and when he pushed off the fur hood there was snow on his nose above a sort of snow cloak with bits of blond fur sticking through. Ron had collapsed laughing, and while they were distracted Malfoy got out his wand and tipped a whole broomshed roof of snow onto them. Trapped under the largest heap, Seamus had a sprained wrist and had to be dug out by his friends. He remembered Ron shouting himself hoarse as Malfoy walked off, scattering snow. He remembered that cold smile. His face felt hot. Under cover of hanging up the towel, and with one eye on Hagrid putting on the kettle, he adjusted himself uncomfortably. Think of something else. Angel-Draco. Ron said he looked more like an angry polar teddy bear, an evil one, but it wasn't as catchy.

"You all right there Harry?" Hagrid asks.

"Uh," he shook himself and turned to the window for cover. "Wondering when it will snow." Which apparently didn't seem strange to Hagrid as he launched into a story Harry could hardly hear for the blood rushing in his head. He was all right; he was fine. So Malfoy was attractive - just a fact which hadn't been relevant to Harry till now. Maybe he should be concerned, and Ron and Hermione would be appalled, but it didn't feel like even a very shocking revelation. He wasn't about to throw himself into Malfoy's arms. Hell, even Snape was attractive if you thought about it objectively, but he wasn't about to mention that to anyone either.

"Cocoa then, Harry?" he adds with a broad grin.

Just before sunset, Harry thought he better go. Hagrid asked him for supper and offered to send a message, but there was Hermione to find and apologise to. This brought up the topic of the year, and Hagrid wasn't particularly concerned. Dumbledore would do something about it, if need be.

"It's still mostly that way with giants, Harry," he says. "Always the old ways, when they marry at all." Harry put down the mug of what Hagrid thought was cocoa before it ended up doing something unpleasant to the rug. "And centaurs. If memory serves, it's a centaur thing. You tell Hermione to look that up. Much more into learning than what you'd call romance. Not what you'd call tender, centaurs." He gave Harry a sad look, "or giants."

It was just dark by the time Harry had cheered Hagrid sufficiently to leave, which meant he'd finished the chocolate and definitely wouldn't need to eat. Hagrid insisted on walking him until they were on the path to the front doors.

* * *

HARRY:

He's not here.

The sun's quite down now, and there's only moonlight on the lake - a bright silver sheet. I'd never seen anything like it when I first came to Hogwarts. That seems a long time ago, and I guess it was. House elves are lighting the torches in their almost invisible way. I used to think it was done with magic. And he's not coming. It's annoying, even though I never intended to meet him. Surprising too, because you think he'd show up just to taunt me for being that gullible. Which I'm not.

Inside the table settings are already there, along with small clusters of students - younger ones for the most part, cause the habit of rushing down or in for dinner takes a while to develop. And there, he's leaning on the wall by the cloakroom door as if it was what Draco Malfoy did all the time.

He rolls his eyes in an irritated way as if I'm late. I guess I am, if I was planning to be here. I could leave. I could tell him it's just a coincidence, which is the truth, but it would sound like I couldn't admit that I wanted to see him. And now I'm confusing myself.

Malfoy heads this way and I automatically check the stairs and doors as if this was a rendezvous for the exchange of life-threatening information. I've actually had a few of those and have to laugh at taking it all so seriously - until I see Zabini on the upper right landing. If Draco's concerned about who might see us, and I have no idea if he should be, he'll notice my look. He doesn't seem to, and this is hardly a secret location... but I keep looking at Zabini, who just as clearly looks back. Draco walks right past me.

So, obviously, we're not meant to be seen, and I'm kind of relieved because I don't want to explain why I'm talking to Malfoy to anyone who would ask. I go to the Gryffindor table with one eye on Zabini. Some lower level students I vaguely recognise look at me nervously. I could go upstairs, meet the others, and never get away from them; sit at the table and hope for a chance to leave before they arrive, which won't happen; or just leave, making it obvious I don't care who's watching. Only that last option gets me outside with Draco, which is clearly what I want.

I shouldn't have been late. He should have been outside rather than inside - he's a Slytherin for fuck's sake. He thought I wasn't coming.

Just at the door I have this strange heavy feeling, and my left arm suddenly feels hot and, about the wrist, kind of tingly. It doesn't happen often and, as with the other times, it takes a second to recognise the sensation. Terrible timing. But it means I can't muck about any longer. Draco is standing to the right of the door, slightly out of the light.

"Draco," it comes out a bit more sharply than I want. "I have to go."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore only ever called unplanned meetings of the Order of the Phoenix for the most urgent matters. He'd hesitated this time, but the nature of the threat this time meant it might never look truly urgent until it was too late. The call had gone out a little less than half an hour ago, which meant members who could respond would be here any minute, some by floo and some from within the castle itself.

Albus smiled. . . at least Harry would be pleased.

* * *

Sirius Black looked down at his godson, though even less down than last time. "Harry," he said, "you look great - and I made it to Hogwarts after all."

"It's wonderful to see you, Sirius," Harry replied.

The boy took his usual chair. "And we'll talk afterwards?" he asked.

"Of course," Sirius replied, "now I'm here."

"Severus, come in my boy. I trust you're somewhat rested?" Snape acknowledged Dumbledore's greeting but didn't look rested. Meetings of the Order were often called on some new intelligence from Snape, and Harry had watched him bleed, retch, and struggle to breathe through several of them. Tonight he just looked tired. Really tired. Though he seemed to have a new fuzzy lens for every male between puberty and, well, Dumbledore, he couldn't make Snape look sexy right now. Sirius, perhaps, clean cut and in new leather - although the thought was rather off-putting - but Snape looked ill. The potions professor folded himself into his chair, chin against one hand, long fingers loose against his face under his hair, and closed his eyes. Actually, Harry might have to take that back. He did look... he must remember to curse Draco for this new and interesting life.

There were only six of them tonight. Arthur Weasley arrived last, ruffling Harry's hair has he passed. Snape huffed silently and glared at the ceiling. "Severus," the Headmaster finally said, "shall we begin?"

"I returned this evening from Malfoy Manor," Harry managed not to register any surprise at yet another Malfoy encounter in his day, "and a meeting which confirms the suspicions entertained by many of us that the Wizarding Revival is working in support of Voldemort." Harry definitely had to have another of those 'I am not a child' speeches with Dumbledore and Sirius. "Vermeel was there, and Agnes Rookwood, as we expected, and St Claire, as perhaps some of us did not." Sirius perceptibly stiffened. "Lucius directed Vermeel to contact specific families about arranging social events as part of the Rite of Engagement; implied that he had been in contact with Voldemort, although he may have been embellishing to impress the new recruit;" here he glanced with a hint of satisfaction at Sirius, "and issued us with a range of instructions for our participation."

"And...?" Sirius managed to sound both frustrated and bored. "So they're using old history books, having tea with Malfoy, and setting up a few parties. I trust there's more?"

Snape shifted in his seat and, although it was a small movement, both McGonagall and Dumbledore shifted too. Harry figured it for a gesture of support and obviously tea with Lucius Malfoy, however drawn out, wouldn't exhaust Severus Snape. "Malfoy appears to be in charge. He insists - I would have to say very adamantly - that no material links between the Revival and the Death Eaters are found. Selina Turpin apparently stated at a Ministry party that the Revival wanted only pureblood wizards in the Rite." Arthur nodded. "She was punished for that indiscretion today. Cruciatus is harsh for such a slip, even for Lucius, but the example was set. People will take care."

"And are the objectives of all this at all any clearer?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Vermeel was voluble on the Rite's success, though he didn't comment on its use to the Dark Lord. He said mostly what we know - it exploits often ignored desires and insecurities among the young and the ambitions of families. It's unpredictable for recruitment, but promotes traditionalism. I could draw some further suppositions."

Dumbledore nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, Severus."

"I think," and it clearly went somehow against the grain to make such untested assertions, "that Hogwarts is the principle target, you in particular Headmaster, and probably this Order. Rather than break down its wards the aim seems to be to undermine Hogwarts' importance, as a guardian of wizarding culture and as necessary to its education."

Sirius snorted, "It'll never work."

"If the Rite continues to be so popular," Arthur offered, "and generally conducted outside the schools, there may be some cause for concern. Not," he added when Sirius went to interject, "that Hogwarts would be under threat, for years at least, but we currently have two leaders - the Minister and the Headmaster here - only one of which is not subject to political change. If a Vermeel was as influential. . . ."

"It's a fashion, for Circe's sake!" Sirius exclaimed. "Like high boots with a wand pocket, remember Albus?"

Arthur Weasley interrupted gently."The Ministry has today established a well funded Department for the Preservation of Wizarding Culture and Artefacts. I don't think it's a coincidence."

"There also was a time before Hogwarts," Albus added. "The private tutoring system is not an unthinkable addition to the list of things the Revival want to 'revive'. Actually, closely linked to the Rite at one time." He took a breath and, in response, Fawkes shifted and opened a bright eye. "I expect we need to move backward to go forward in this."

"We bring the Rite into the school then?" Minerva guessed.

Albus nodded and Snape looked unsurprised, but the others were uncertain.

"If the plan is to marginalise us then we stay central," Dumbledore explained. "The curriculum can accommodate several parts of the Revival attractive to the general wizarding community. It will also allow us to influence some outcomes. Arthur you will place this before the Minister?" Arthur nodded.

Sirius seemed the least convinced. "I can't see how this... politics," he spat the word out, "is the Order's business. Or even a Death Eater thing. What happened to sneaking round in the dark wearing hoods and murdering Muggles in their beds?"

Snape gave a sardonic grin, "I'll lodge your suggestion, shall I?"

"Actually," Harry said, "this is a lot more Slytherin." Snape looked at him sharply. "Not that I'm accusing the house in general, just observing that for a man who wants to be the Heir of Slytherin Voldemort rarely relies on strategy, at least not recently."

"It's clearly a Lucius plan," Snape conceded, "with both long and short term goals. Some not inconsiderable influence over futures and alliances. . . easy prediction of movements. . . in the medium term the practice of bonding might be added to the Engagement, and thus give some direct control. . ."

"I hardly think that a modern witch or wizard. . ." Arthur began, "but then I may have said that about Engagement as well."

"These are suppositions, possibilities," Snape continued. "I'm sure Lucius has thought of them. It is, as Mr Potter points out, very Slytherin."

"Is he bluffing about Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Snape gave Harry a rather more sympathetic look and moved awkwardly in the chair.

"Today he was. . . powerful. There are amplification spells, but he clearly had some power over the dark mark."

Harry added, nervously - "If he were physically hosting Voldemort?"

"I've considered it," the Professor conceded. "Lucius wouldn't willingly give up that kind of control and he seems - Lucius. There's no insanity that isn't his usual kind, and he is keeping Malfoy interests first." Harry noticed Snape's hesitation, but perhaps anyone else except Dumbledore would miss it. "There's one more thing. All Death Eaters at liberty to do so are required to participate in the Rite. Our offers are to be credible, as public as possible, and successful. Some have quite specific instructions as to who should be approached and with what."

"Even you?" Sirius said with a laugh, and Snape's expression communicated both his disdain and an answer. "Merlin, that's the funniest thing. . . who's the lucky boy, Snape?"

"Sirius." Albus gave what would pass for a stern look. "We can leave the particular. . ."

"Karkaroff!" Harry exclaimed. They all looked at him. "Would Karkaroff also be, you know, making declarations because he has to? Even if he wants them to fail?"

"You won't have to put many of those Slytherin skills to the test Snape," Sirius laughed. "Getting rejected shouldn't be too hard."

"Sirius!"

"Wouldn't you pay to see Snape try and romance a student? Minerva," he laughed again, "you can't tell me you don't. . ."

Professor McGonagall crisply cut him off - "Really, Sirius!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry said as loudly as he could without quite shouting, "but could someone answer me?" And there was a pause. "Is Karkaroff making phony offers?"

Snape got it first and seemed shocked. "Igor wouldn't. . . In any case. . ."

As everyone was clearly working it out now, it seemed useless to conceal. "For his daughter," Harry finally said. There was a pause.

"A nice girl, as I remember," Dumbledore said happily, "Quick, and pretty. . ."

"Headmaster!" McGonagall interjected.

"You should be very flattered Harry," the Headmaster continued unfazed.

"You could do worse," Snape added with an eye on Black, who stridently objected -

"My godson's not marrying a Death Eater girl!".

"It's not marriage," Harry retorted, "it's. . . it's Quidditch and teaching!"

"Harry, you can't!" Sirius protested.

"I didn't say I was!"

"Please!" the Headmaster said firmly. "We're becoming unnecessarily excited."

* * *

HARRY:

"Your hound is waiting, Mr Potter." Snape nods towards Sirius in the doorway, who glowers and turns away.

"Actually, I need to speak with you Headmaster. Tonight," I manage to add. "And with you too, I think, Professor. It's about Draco."

Sirius isn't happy, but says he understands at last. We promise to write every week, and he'll be back within the month to report. I take Remus's usual chair, close to Fawkes. The Draco story takes only minutes and I think I'd feel I've over-reacted, but both men are clearly considering it seriously. Though, of course, not saying anything to me.

"Severus, what do you intend?" I'm tense now with annoyance at how little I've been included in the Order's conversations about this. Dumbledore gives me that version of the twinkle that claims I would understand, so I don't look at him. Instead I look at Snape, hesitating.

He almost shrugs. "I. . . appealed to Lucius' knowledge of me, insisted my seeking an Engagement would be incredible. He made it clear that my participation is not optional."

"I'm sorry, Severus," the Headmaster says, and I suddenly get that he also was punished today. And it's strange and disturbing how many times I've seen him after Cruciatus. There's a redness to his eyes. A stiff way of moving.

"There could be a conflict of interest," Dumbledore suggests.

"No, I could choose a student at another school, there are private students, and some who've left education, although I my approaching someone with no scholarly strengths would surely seem extraordinary." Snape rearranges himself, it's now clear, painfully. "I've been excluded from this plan, which hasn't, Lucius points out, required my specific skills. However it seems I have a role now, and I won't be allowed to avoid it." He glances at me again, and the not meeting my eyes is getting annoying. "I thought perhaps Ms Granger, although the mixed blood issue may mean she doesn't satisfy."

"Hermione?" I say, "Our Hermione? Is... utterly opposed to the whole thing!"

"Sensible girl," Snape returns.

"Is in love with Ron!" I add in a shocked voice.

"I would be able to assure her that I had no such motives."

Sirius' barb about the lucky boy suddenly hits me and. . . Snape's gay? I must react because he looks away as he says, "I could at least tolerate a competent apprentice if the whole plot doesn't collapse before a contract is signed."

I can't think of a single thing to say. An Engagement between Snape and Hermione is just too - "Ron would kill you."

Dumbledore cuts him off, which I suspect is just as well, "Lucius wasn't at all specific?" Snape's glance is such a give away it's very hard to believe he's a spy, but then by now I also know him well. Snape sighs, and I know I've never heard quite that one before.

"I am specifically instructed not to approach Draco Malfoy" - so that sigh apparently means actual information - "which may be relevant, under the circumstances." Something in my response must look like relief because he adds, "And you can be assured, Mr Potter, that I will also not be approaching you."

"Really?" I can't help saying it - "I think we'd make a great team."

He does blink, and I win.

"Most amusing," he drawls, looking away.

"Why not Draco?" I ask. He's silent and still not looking at me, damn it. "I'm not just the... what is it... mascot here! Tell me."

"Severus," Dumbledore says, "perhaps if they're to be friends." And I definitely didn't say that.

"His father has other plans for him." Snape reluctantly continued. "And it appears he fears Draco might accept."