Harry Potter and the Death Eater's Son

6. Trust and Mistrust

Over the next few weeks, Harry saw less and less of Hermione and Ron. When he did hang around with them--and when it was just the three of them--he felt awkward, as if he was an intruder. They were still his friends, but they were only available at certain times, and then usually other people--such as Ginny or Millicent--would want to spend time with them as well. At least Harry had something else with which he could distract himself: Dumbledore's project of befriending the ferret. He had continued to run into Malfoy in places where they'd be able to talk: the astronomy tower, corridors that weren't generally used, and in the stacks of the library. He was pleased to note that Malfoy seemed to be accepting their conversations quite well. Harry was tempted to think that Malfoy was even enjoying them, especially all the opportunities he had to back Harry into a corner and wheedle out more private information. This wheedling had started with Malfoy implying he was going to let slip to a few people about the prophecy, and things had snowballed from there.

One evening, they had bumped into each other when Harry was on his way to an Occlumency lesson. Harry had to end the conversation prematurely so that he wouldn't be late, and he suggested that they continue afterwards. Malfoy had agreed, and from that moment on, they started to arrange their meetings. Most often they met after Occlumency. It should've been convenient because Hermione and Ron wouldn't question the lateness of his return, but Harry bitterly acknowledged that they probably wouldn't notice his absences, anyway.

Harry showed Malfoy the Room of Requirement, and they frequently met there. The room looked like a blending of the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, with green and gold colouring, sparse lighting, and a warm feel to the air. Two plush green chairs were placed at an angle in front of a glowing fire, and sometimes a table complete with butterbeer and biscuits would be present in front of the chairs if either of them happened to be hungry or thirsty. Harry was pleased to note that there were no pictures on the walls, as he had been worried about them gossiping over his and Malfoy's occasional rendezvous. Malfoy had been impressed with the idea behind the room, but he was less than happy with its choice of décor. Whereas Harry had thought that this was the best of both the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, Malfoy just ridiculed the "poncy gold trimming" and pointed out how pathetic Gryffindors must be to need their common room so warm.

Despite the criticisms, Harry had been vastly amused by Malfoy's initial inspection of the room. When Harry had first shown him the room, Malfoy spent a good twenty minutes investigating the way the door appeared and reappeared in the corridor. Then he had insisted that they tried walking in again and again, in the hope that the room might change into something more "stylish". Harry suspected that Malfoy just wanted a few novelties to look at and with which he could mess around--either that or he didn't believe the room adapted to your requirements at all. Malfoy had given Harry a look of mock disdain when Harry mentioned that the point of the room for them was just so they could talk, and so wouldn't be likely to change.

When it came to extracting information, Harry soon learned that Malfoy was more than capable of being as persuasive as Dumbledore, if nowhere near as subtle. At first, Harry felt uncomfortable with revealing so much to a recent enemy, especially on those occasions when Malfoy chose to blatantly blackmail him into doing so. But he kept telling himself that he was doing this as a favour to Dumbledore, and after a while, Harry realised that it was turning out to be quite therapeutic. He liked being able to talk about some of the things that had never surfaced in conversation with Ron and Hermione, and it seemed that Malfoy wasn't about to tell anyone of their little chats. Surprisingly, Malfoy proved to be an attentive listener, and he was even capable of showing a bit of sympathy at times. Although he couldn't help making the occasional sarcastic comment, these weren't said with the same maliciousness as they used to be, and Harry usually found them very funny. What stuck in Harry's mind the most was Malfoy's alternative perspective towards life, one that Harry initially thought of as selfish, but he had to admit that it was also quite realistic. Malfoy's point of view often focused on the fact that the past can't be changed, but the future has the potential to be manipulated. It was a more tainted and cynical view, but at the same time, more human, too.

The exposure of Harry's life had begun with Malfoy pestering him about the events that had occurred in the Ministry at the end of last year; Malfoy wanted to know exactly what had happened to get his father thrown into Azkaban. This had been the first time Harry had spoken about it openly, and he felt ambivalent towards discussing it with Malfoy. He realised that he had a need to talk to someone about it, but he wasn't sure that that someone should be Malfoy--and he certainly didn't enjoy dragging up all the emotions associated with the death of his godfather. This was when Malfoy had first surprised him. As he talked about Sirius, Harry felt a tear escape. He heard movement from Malfoy's chair, and then there was a comforting arm being placed about his shoulders.

"It wasn't your fault, Potter. Voldemort played you, just like he plays with everyone else."

Malfoy didn't sound as if he was being sarcastic, and looking up at Malfoy's face, it seemed to Harry that his concern was genuine. Harry had then gone on to explain the real story about Sirius and Peter Pettigrew. Malfoy was a bit disappointed that Sirius wasn't the villain he'd imagined, and he had muttered something about "bloody Gryffindorks" that Harry was grateful he didn't quite catch. Malfoy then questioned Harry about his other family, and he proceeded to pick apart Harry's life at the Dursleys. Malfoy had found the whole family--and the fact that it was just Harry's luck to be stuck with people like them--highly amusing.

On another occasion, Malfoy nearly had Harry in tears once more, when badgering him over the events at the end of the fourth year that concerned Cedric Diggory. When the moment came to tell of Cedric's death, Malfoy had leaned over again, placing his hand on Harry's arm, encouraging him in a surprisingly soft voice. Harry was a little bewildered that he found Malfoy's proximity very reassuring, and it helped Harry to talk about Cedric without getting as upset as he had expected. He felt relieved to be able to get all of these experiences out of his system; he felt supported, and it felt strange that this was because of Malfoy. He tried not to think too hard about it being Malfoy; that inevitably led to Harry questioning what he was doing playing nice with the creep who had threatened to kill him last year. He found it difficult to reconcile the two sides of Malfoy that he had experienced. Whenever his thoughts strayed into this area, he reminded himself that he was just doing this for Dumbledore, and then he resolutely found something else to think about.

The revelation of personal details worked both ways. Harry took every opening given to get Malfoy to confide details from his own life. Harry learned a lot about Draco's upbringing at Malfoy manor, and what struck him was not how much Malfoy had been spoilt in comparison to Harry--he had been expecting that--but that Malfoy's father had been there for his son at every step of the way, until Voldemort had risen again. Malfoy explained that it felt as if he had spent most of his childhood in his father's company. He had enjoyed the time spent with his father and the opportunity it gave him to learn from Lucius, revelling in the glow when he made his father proud. He observed his father's interactions with others and how successful he seemed to be, and Malfoy tried his best to imitate his father and to follow the beliefs and principles that had apparently worked so well for him. This changed after Voldemort had returned. Malfoy's father had become almost unrecognisable during the few times he actually got to see him; Lucius had become tenser and more anxious. He still looked up to his father, though, understanding that Voldemort would be putting him under a lot of pressure. Malfoy also found that his father was harder to please. It was as if Lucius was upping the stakes, trying to prepare Malfoy for something that was just round the corner, and he was scared that his son would fail. So Malfoy tried even harder, and this seemed to help his father's unspoken anxiety. Now that Malfoy had seen just how much of a "sick bastard" Voldemort really was, he wanted to help his father even more, only in a different way entirely.

Harry also brought up the subject of the last Hogsmeade weekend, and to his surprise, Malfoy actually showed some remorse. He told Harry that it wasn't a case of being evil, but of doing what's expected of you because that's the only option. Harry's sympathies were tweaked when Malfoy explained that, at the time, he couldn't allow himself to care, so he didn't even let himself think about it; he just filled his head with reasons why those people were expendable without questioning the logic of it at all. It was necessary for him to keep quiet for his father's sake. He had to deal with the knowledge any way he could, and the best way was just not to think. Malfoy knew he had been an arse; he knew that he hadn't made the best of decisions since coming to Hogwarts.

"Haven't you ever made a decision that you regretted, Potter? Haven't you ever looked back at your perfect Gryffindork behaviour and realised that, because of something you'd done, you were responsible for something really shitty, but it was too late to do anything about it?"

Yes, Harry thought as he nodded soberly in response. I wish I'd thought before I acted; I wish I'd remembered the mirror Sirius had given me. So this is how you feel, Malfoy; there is guilt and regret, somewhere underneath that arrogant exterior. Finding out such things about you is more than a little strange--I guess you are human, after all.

The one thing that didn't strike Harry as odd was the fact that, even after all these personal conversations, neither one of them could bring themselves to initiate using their first names. After all, they weren't really friends; how could they be after all they'd been through? This was a project, a mutual convenience--a chance to share something with someone when there was no one else available. So why am I so bloody concerned about the ferret's feelings all of a sudden? Harry asked himself.

He had arrived at this question when Ron had decided, yet again, to throw a few verbal insults Malfoy's way. And this had been instigated by the loss of Neville's toad. Trevor had decided to make a leap for freedom in a busy corridor, not an unusual occurrence for the toad. This was followed by Neville bending down and craning his head around the mass of ankles that were in procession from one class to the next. He was still searching after the corridor had cleared of bodies, but Trevor had vanished. Ron, unfortunately, wasn't taking Hermione's advice to give Malfoy a bit of slack to heart as much as Harry would have hoped. He felt justified in taking the toad's absence personally, linking it to Pig's earlier abduction, and taking this out on Malfoy. Much to Harry's dismay, Ron succeeded in this respect more thoroughly than he realised.

They were in a Transfigurations lesson, which was taken with the Slytherins this year, and Neville was worrying that it had nearly been a week since Trevor had last been seen.

"I bet Malfoy knew all about it." Ron had deliberately raised his voice, so the Slytherin could overhear him.

"Ron!" Harry chastised in a hiss. Ron turned around from where he was sitting with Hermione in the next row up, and threw Harry a scornful look.

"What? This would be just the sort of thing he'd do. Or at the very least, I bet he had inside information. After all, he knew about Hogsmeade, didn't he? And he's bound to know more about what happened to Ernie's dad than he should; he probably knows the Death Eater that did it." Ron was on a rant, and Malfoy was not going to escape from being the victim.

"But you don't know that." All Harry could do was to plead with Ron's rational side, and not too obviously, he hoped. His mind raced to find something to say that would silence Ron, but nothing came to him.

"Why are you sticking up for him, anyway? You know he doesn't care about innocent people, or about their families. As long as Malfoy's got his mummy and daddy to go home to, he doesn't give a damn about anyone else."

But Harry knew Malfoy couldn't go home to his family. Harry glanced over at Malfoy, who was studiously taking notes from his textbook and tensely biting his lower lip. Seeing the control Malfoy was exerting in not giving Ron the benefit of a reaction, Harry found yet another reason to respect Malfoy.

"Ron, I think you're going a little bit over the top." Harry's voice was firm. He couldn't let Ron continue, not after the comment about Malfoy's family. Without realising, Ron had hit Malfoy below the belt.

"What?"

"Just leave it. You're just trying to get a reaction, and it's not working. If you keep on, you'll only get in trouble with McGonagall."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, as these last few innocuous words had appeared to have the desired effect; he didn't have to risk exposing his meetings with Malfoy. But he was still concerned how much Ron's words might've upset Malfoy, and it also left Harry thinking about where Malfoy was going to stay come the end of the year if Voldemort was still at large. One thing was certain: he wouldn't be able to go home.

Harry was stewing over this last thought as they conducted another barrage of research in the library that evening. Hermione had insisted they do this in case the disappearances of Pig and Trevor were connected. She believed that, if they could find out what the animals were used for, they might be able to work out who was responsible. But Harry's mind was not on the task at hand: he was thinking about Malfoy. The only time he let his thoughts wander anywhere else was when he tried to think of the last occasion that he had been this welcome to join Ron and Hermione, on his own, for an activity that didn't involve studying or research.

Even though they were looking for potions that used Neville's particular breed of toad, they still couldn't pinpoint any particular potion and had only narrowed it down to about forty-seven potions that used both elf owl feathers and toad parts. Harry then pointed out they hadn't yet taken advantage of their access to the restricted section--which they now had thanks to studying advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts--and so could still be missing the right one, anyway. Hermione frowned at his negative mood, saying that most of the ones they had listed seemed to be similar in that they were potion versions of different transfiguration spells. There were also a couple used as alternatives to a lack of full moon: brewing certain plants in one of these potions meant they didn't need to be picked under the full moon when this had been stipulated for other potions. Despite Hermione's enthusiasm, Harry was still completely apathetic to the research--he couldn't understand what they hoped to achieve by all of this, and he was too busy trying to think of places Malfoy could stay over the holidays.

So far, he had come up with a grand total of one: the Dursleys. He knew that Malfoy would not like the suggestion, and what Vernon would have to say about it didn't take a lot of imagination. But if he could persuade Malfoy, he was sure Dumbledore would agree, and then the Dursley's wouldn't have any say in the matter. Eventually, his patience deserted him, and he left Ron and Hermione to carry on the research without him. He wanted to talk to Malfoy about his summer plans, even though they weren't supposed to be meeting up that evening.

Harry went back to his dormitory and arranged the pillows so the others would assume he was asleep and would leave him be. He knew that Malfoy had Quidditch practice that evening, and he decided to wait in the Ancient Runes classroom by the Hufflepuff tower, where Malfoy would be passing on his way to the dungeons. As he was making his way there, he passed Luna Lovegood in the corridor and gave her a friendly smile. She stopped to talk.

"I thought you hated him," she stated obscurely, although Harry had a nasty suspicion she was referring to Malfoy.

"Who?"

"The one you've secretly been seeing a lot lately: your new friend, Mr Malfoy."

"We're not friends," he said, and Luna responded with a disapproving look. Although Harry didn't like the fact that someone had found out about his meetings with Malfoy, he consoled himself that at least it was Luna. After all, she hadn't gossiped to the whole school about his liking Oliver Wood. He only hoped that no one else had noticed, that she only worked it out because of her ability to 'notice extra things that other people miss'. "It's not like that," he continued. "We just meet up to talk sometimes. I thought we'd been discreet about it."

"I don't think anyone else is that clued up; you'd soon know if they were. A rumour like that would spread like wildfire at Hogwarts. So, why are you keeping it such a big secret? Are you dating him? Does he know he only comes in second place to Oliver Wood?"

"No! No, it's nothing like that!" he hastily denied. But it was his secret. This unexpected connection with Malfoy was something that he had to admit to thinking of quite fondly. Besides the real reason for secrecy, he didn't like the idea of it becoming anyone else's business. "It's just that it would upset things between him and his family if they found out we were friends."

"It seems a strange that you haven't even mentioned it to Hermione and Ron, though. You haven't, have you?" She looked at him for confirmation, and Harry winced. Luna seemed to have the uncanny ability to hone in on information that he'd just as soon keep hidden. In an ideal world, of course he would want Ron and Hermione to know, but his friendship with them had become less than the ideal lately. He realised that he was no longer sure how they would react to an admission of this kind. Would they be willing to trust his judgement? But this was all speculative, anyway. Malfoy didn't trust Ron and Hermione, and when Malfoy had first confided about the Dark Mark, Harry had made a promise that he'd keep quiet.

"He asked me not to," Harry replied.

"Why doesn't he want you to tell them? I would've thought he'd love to rub their noses in it."

"He has his reasons," Harry said vaguely, not wanting to risk letting on about Malfoy nearly getting the Dark Mark. "The main one being a problem with his ego! But I'm sure he'll get over it, eventually."

"And I'm sure you'll come up with a way to persuade him..." Luna commented suggestively before continuing on her way to the Ravenclaw tower.

Harry waited in the Ancient Runes classroom, absent-mindedly flicking through an old book that he'd picked off a heavy bookcase at the back of the room. But he wasn't paying attention to what was on the pages; instead, his mind drifted back to what Luna had said. Dating? Him and Malfoy! The idea was ludicrous. Malfoy was an obnoxious, self-centred, untrustworthy... Well, in public he was pretty obnoxious, but that was mainly for show, an image he had to maintain for himself as much as for other people. Harry could also understand him needing to be self-centred when it came to life at Hogwarts--away from his supportive family--or when dealing with things over which he had no choice. Malfoy had to cut himself off from others because of his family. He had also proved to be trustworthy, or so Harry hoped. Harry had shared a lot with him lately, more so than he had ever shared with Ron and Hermione. But did this actually mean anything? Was he still just helping Malfoy so that he wouldn't be tempted to just follow his father's orders? Was that all it was? No, Harry conceded that he now considered Malfoy a friend. But dating? Harry had to admit that Malfoy was striking to look at; the whole school knew it, especially Malfoy.

An image came to mind of the way in which Malfoy's silky hair occasionally fell across his face as he spoke, its perpetually immaculate appearance leaving Harry often tempted to reach out and ruffle it so that it resembled his own scruffy mess. Malfoy also had a cute squat nose--something that Harry would never dare to mention--and mischevious eyes that glinted whenever he was getting the upper hand in a verbal sparring match. Whenever Malfoy was talking, Harry found his direct and focused nature bewitching; he talked about things that interested him with so much animation. His body, face, and voice would all mirror the emotions inside, while his eyes remained firmly fixed on Harry's, never allowing Harry's attention to wander for a moment--not that Harry ever had the desire to do anything but listen when Malfoy was speaking to him. When Malfoy spoke he was magnetic, almost flirtatious. He would give a charismatic grin, and Harry wouldn't be able to restrain from beaming right back at him.

Harry had never considered Malfoy as someone who was dateable before now; he'd finally managed to stop thinking about Oliver Wood and had deliberately avoided considering other people that he might be attracted to. This wasn't the same as what he had felt for Oliver, which had been basic appreciation of Oliver's looks. This was more than that. It was a hankering for Malfoy's company, a desire for both mental and--Harry winced--physical closeness, and Harry had to admit to finding this notion very scary. Anyway, he reasoned, I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't be interested; after all, wasn't he dating that silly cow Pansy Parkinson not that long ago? Harry chuckled at his madness of even entertaining the notion. What did he think he was going to do? Ask Malfoy to go out on a date? As if!

Harry snapped out of his reverie as he heard a group of students making their way past the classroom. Sneaking a look into the corridor, Harry was pleased to see that Quidditch was finally over. As usual, Malfoy drifted along a little way behind the rest of the Slytherins. Harry motioned from the doorway and caught Malfoy's eye. He felt his breath hitching involuntarily as Malfoy flashed him an amused grin before hanging back even further and then quietly slipping into the classroom.

"What's up, Potter?" Malfoy asked, noting that Harry was a little ruffled.

"Nothing really," Harry replied defensively, and quickly reminded himself of his original intentions. "I guess I just wanted to say sorry about today. About Ron, I mean. I'd say he's an insensitive prat, but he's not really. He just doesn't know what's happened."

"Do you mean to tell me you just risked meeting me here like this to apologise on the Weasel's behalf?" Malfoy seemed quite tickled by this fact.

"I wanted to know if you're okay," Harry admitted a little sheepishly.

"I've had far worse from you in the past," Malfoy stated pointedly, trying to give Harry a hard look, but he couldn't wipe off the smirk that was plastered across his face. "In fact, I've had someone closer to home make a few digs today."

"Who?"

"Bulstrode. She came down to Quidditch practice and grilled me about Longbottom's toad. It seems the Weasel's paranoia has rubbed off on her. She's convinced that I've been planning something since the beginning of term, if not before. She was ranting that I was putting my own personal vendettas above the good of the Slytherin house. As if she's ever cared about that before."

"Hermione seems to think she's turned over a new leaf, not unlike what you've done." Malfoy curled a lip in disgust at this comparison, and Harry laughed.

"I still don't trust her."

Harry snickered at this. Just whom did Malfoy trust? Harry couldn't help hoping that he'd be on the list.

"I can't help wondering," Malfoy continued, "if everyone at Hogwarts who has a Death Eater for a parent knows about me. Perhaps she's just laying it on thick in order to make my life difficult. Maybe she's the one who's taken that manky toad and is using me as a decoy. Or perhaps she's trying to set me up."

"You're not really the paranoid type, are you?" Harry replied sarcastically.

"With a Death Eater as a father? I couldn't survive any other way."

At the mention of Lucius, Harry was reminded of his concern for where Malfoy would be staying over the holidays.

"Have you had any thoughts about what you're going to do when the summer term ends?" Harry asked, watching Malfoy tense up and the barriers draw across his face. Evidently he didn't have a contingency plan set up.

"I'm relying on you finishing off Voldemort before then."

"Oh, thanks." Harry was not impressed that Malfoy seemed to be deadly serious about that. "As if I need any more pressure."

"Look, Potter, I really hadn't thought that far ahead; I don't want to, either. If I can't go home to my family by then, I don't know what'll happen."

"If you can't find anywhere better, I could ask about you staying with me at the Dursleys'. I know that'd probably be your idea of hell, but we could avoid them a lot of the time."

"Me? Living with three Muggles?" Malfoy looked shocked, but Harry could also discern a faint smile. "I think I'd rather accept an invitation from You-Know-Who. Thanks but no thanks, Potter. It doesn't sound too safe to me, being around three blundering, wizard-hating Muggles. Doesn't it make you an easy target for You-Know-Who?"

"There's a spell that protects me," Harry explained.

"How? If you expect me to even consider your absurd suggestion, I want to know why it's so safe."

"It works because my aunt and my mother were related by blood. Voldemort can't harm me while I'm there."

"What about those Dementors last year?"

"They were sent when I was out of the house."

Malfoy just stood there for a moment, a slight smirk across his face. It was clear he was busy thinking, and Harry waited for the next question or revelation to come.

"If the spell is to do with your aunt, why hasn't Voldemort just arranged for her to be killed?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I hadn't thought of that. I guess Voldemort hasn't thought of it, either. Perhaps he just doesn't know enough about the spell, or maybe the spell protects her as well."

"So, I've been let in on yet another big Potter secret. I feel almost privileged."

"Does this mean you're interested in staying?" Harry pressed.

"Could be. But I'm not going to admit to anything until you've found out whether it's definitely okay."

They said their goodbyes, and Harry walked back to Gryffindor tower in a very good mood. For once in his life, Harry found himself looking forward to staying with the Dursleys. Malfoy had agreed, in a typically Malfoy fashion, to stay at Privet Drive. Now all Harry had to do was mention it to Dumbledore. The headmaster couldn't say no--after all, where else could Malfoy go? As he snuck back into the dormitory and settled down in his bed, Harry let his thoughts wander to the summer holidays, trying to imagine what life at Privet Drive would be like with Malfoy there. He had a feeling that Malfoy would have no trouble in sucking up to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and Harry couldn't wait for any verbal exchanges between Malfoy and Dudley. Dudley wouldn't stand a chance--there was no way he was going to get one over on Malfoy!

***

Two days later, Harry was summoned to the headmaster's office after dinner. He had no idea what Dumbledore would want to talk to him about, and he felt quite apprehensive when he entered the familiar room and saw Professor Dumbledore looking at him very solemnly. So far he hadn't had the opportunity to speak to Dumbledore regarding Malfoy staying at the Dursleys', and Harry hoped he'd have the opportunity now.

"Please sit down, Harry."

Harry cautiously perched on the edge of the chair and wondered what was wrong. He then realised he hadn't seen Malfoy about that day, and he began to worry that something had happened to him.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," Dumbledore said as he sat across from Harry, peering intently at the boy. "I just received word that your Aunt Petunia has been killed. As far as any Muggles are aware, she died in a car crash, but the Ministry of Magic detected something awry when it happened."

Harry sat there, stunned. Aunt Petunia, killed--and with magic involved, it sounded like it was because of him. What would happen to Uncle Vernon and Dudley? What would they do without her?

"I fear Voldemort was behind the attack, and he has realised that this was one way to circumvent the protection you received from your Aunt. I don't think it would be wise for you to return there, Harry. With the link to your mother gone, you will no longer be protected. Until we can think of anywhere safer, I'm afraid I must suggest that you stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays. We may be able to organise visits to your friends, and you won't be lonely here as Draco Malfoy will probably be staying as well."

Harry nodded to let the headmaster know that he had heard and understood, but he still couldn't say anything. He wanted to know why it had happened now, after all these years. He had only been discussing this with Malfoy a couple of days ago. Should he mention this to Dumbledore? Surely Malfoy wouldn't have told his father, this had to be just a mere coincidence. He didn't want to find out that Malfoy had betrayed his confidence; he wanted to carry on trusting Malfoy. If they stopped meeting up, Harry realised that he would miss Malfoy far too much. There had to be another explanation. How could Malfoy have betrayed his trust after all they had shared? Malfoy wouldn't; Harry just couldn't believe that Malfoy was responsible.

He left Dumbledore's office in a daze, scuffling along the corridor, shoulders drooping, eyes not focusing on anything, and not wanting to think about what had happened. Having made his way to the dormitory, Harry sat on his bed staring into space, feeling numb.

It was Neville who had wandered in on him like this.

"Harry, Harry! Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head. "Aunt Petunia's dead."

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry..." Neville trailed off as Ron came through the door. "Ron, Harry's aunt has died."

"Oh, mate.... Come on, we'll get Hermione and go for a walk, get you some fresh air."

They wandered outside in silence, and when they were away from anyone who might overhear, Harry relayed all that Dumbledore had said. He reflected that he hadn't confided in either of them this way for a long time. Malfoy had somehow taken their places, and Harry now appreciated just how much easier he found it to open up to Malfoy than to Ron and Hermione.

On the inside, he winced at the sympathy they gave him. On the outside, he knew he looked emotionally drained, but not for the reasons Ron and Hermione assumed. They believed he was upset over Aunt Petunia's death, when really he was desperately trying to work out how it could have happened without Malfoy betraying him. Harry was surprised about his own lack of emotions, and he wondered if this made him callous, that he should have at least some sort of anguish regarding his aunt. Harry guessed that he should feel guilty about this lack of remorse, but he couldn't even feel that; all he felt was that he needed to talk with Malfoy. They hadn't arranged to meet until the weekend, which was two days away, and he couldn't hunt Malfoy down until that evening without drawing too much attention.

Their conversation on the subject was halted as a group of sixth years passed their way. They exchanged polite hellos as they passed, and Harry couldn't help overhearing part of what the others were discussing: Ernie Macmillan was commenting to Hannah Abbott that Malfoy had looked really pleased with himself over the past couple of days. The last words that Harry heard Ernie say before they drifted out of earshot were, "I wonder what he's been up to this time."

Unfortunately, Ron had also heard the remark, and he jumped on it immediately.

"Malfoy, of course. I bet he knows all about it."

"Leave it alone, Ron," Harry snapped. "It doesn't matter what he knows. It's not like I can do anything about it now. It's too late."

But Ron was adamant, and Hermione didn't stop him. She merely added fuel to the fire by agreeing with Ernie's comment that Malfoy had definitely seemed more chipper that week. She added that his attitude would make sense if Malfoy had known that something nasty was going to happen to Harry. It was just as well Hermione and Ron didn't know about the conversation Harry and Malfoy had shared--if they did, Malfoy would have been hung, drawn and quartered by now. Harry had been hoping that Malfoy's improved mood was due to him looking forward to spending the summer with Harry. As Ron and Hermione continued to point out the questionable motives for Malfoy's change of behaviour over the whole term, Harry couldn't stop himself from wondering whether he had made a very big mistake. Had it been a big act on Malfoy's part in order to get to Harry? Had this all been set up from the start: accidentally bumping into Malfoy before he was due to receive the Dark Mark, Malfoy confiding supposed secrets to Harry in order to gain his trust, and Malfoy feigning emotional troubles to win over Harry's sympathy? Could this really be true?

Harry decided not to seek out Malfoy that evening. What if they met up and Malfoy did throw it in his face? Harry didn't know what he'd do. He had to admit that, at the moment, it would be a toss up between bawling his eyes out and casting Avada Kedavra. Why did he feel so jilted? What did he really expect? This was Malfoy he had trusted. Harry supposed he deserved everything he got for being such an idiot, but what about Aunt Petunia? Did she deserve what had happened to her? Did she deserve to have her life put at risk by Harry, for a whim? Yet again, someone had died just because they had a connection to him.

***