Harry Potter and the Death Eater's Son

9. Repercussions

The next day at breakfast, Professor Dumbledore announced that Professor Lupin would no longer be able to teach at Hogwarts. For the remainder of the year--and until a replacement could be found--the first through third years would not be receiving Defence lessons, the fourth and fifth years would be taught by Professor McGonagall, and the sixth and seventh years would be taught by Professor Snape. For the most part, the student population were aggrieved by this news, but Harry was disappointed to hear a few choice comments made concerning how irresponsible Dumbledore had been to let Lupin return in the first place. No more Professor Lupin for Defence lessons, and Harry couldn't imagine that decision being reversed, ever. All he had to look forward to was spending more time being taught by Snape. I hope somebody applies for the job soon, he silently pleaded. But knowing how hard it had been for Dumbledore to find Defence teachers in the past, Harry wasn't feeling too optimistic. Harry wondered what Remus would do, now that he had to leave Hogwarts for a second time. Harry knew Remus's job prospects were not good at the best of times. But with the news that the werewolf could potentially be brought out at any time of the month, Harry realised that there would be very few options available. He hoped Remus would be all right.

All conversation concerning Professor Lupin was brought to a sudden halt as whispers of "Malfoy's got a howler" spread across the hall. While those around him turned to stare at Malfoy in eager anticipation, Harry looked over uneasily to see Malfoy's face steadily loosing its colour.

"DRACO MALFOY!" A raised female voice that oozed with venom echoed around the Great Hall.

"Do you think that's his mum?" Ron asked in a half-whisper. "I wonder what he's done."

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, and carried on listening to the message--which wasn't a difficult task, as the volume ensured that every single word came out crystal clear. His gaze was still focused on Malfoy, trying to work out what Malfoy could've done to earn himself a howler from his mother. After all, as far as Harry was aware, Malfoy hadn't been contacted by any of his family in months.

"I HOPE YOU REALISE JUST HOW MUCH YOU HAVE DISAPPONTED ME. AS IF SAVING THAT WORTHLESS SLIME, HARRY POTTER, WASN'T BAD ENOUGH--LITTLE DID I KNOW THAT YOU COULD STOOP EVEN LOWER!"

Harry could see Draco frowning hard as the howler continued, "AFTER FINDING OUT YOU WERE FRIENDS WITH THAT LITTLE CREEP I MANAGED TO KEEP MY SILENCE. BUT I AM SICKENED TO KNOW JUST HOW INTIMATE YOU HAVE BECOME WITH THAT POTTER BOY. THIS... RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM IS UNACCEPTABLE!"

Harry jerked his attention away from Draco's shocked expression, to be confronted with the table of Gryffindors staring at him in surprise. In the background Narcissa's parting remark could be heard, "YOU DISGUST ME, DRACO. YOU ARE NO LONGER MY SON."

Silence now descended upon the Great Hall as the howler burst into flames in front of an unsettled Draco Malfoy. He looked at no one as he stood up from the table and rushed out.

"Now I'd like to buy a drink for whoever pulled that practical joke on Draco Malfoy," Ron said as he started laughing at the absurdity of it all. He looked over at Harry, expecting him to join in.

Harry looked down and refused to make eye contact. He could sit here and laugh it off, make out that it was a big joke--that would be so easy to do. But he couldn't abandon Malfoy. Malfoy had now officially been ostracised from his family; this was what he had feared the most: completely losing his relationship with his father. Harry knew what it felt like to be alone, not to have any family outside of Hogwarts that cared about him. And as he had told Harry before, Malfoy needed him--now more so than ever. This had happened because of their connection, and from the beginning, Harry had said that he would still be there for Malfoy if it ever got out. It was time to face up to other people's reactions, to be honest come what may.

"I've got to go," he mumbled as he stood up and hurried out after Malfoy, ignoring the confused calls from the other Gryffindors.

Someone was in the Room of Requirement last night, he realised. But who would have the opportunity to get in contact with Narcissa Malfoy? Evidently someone who has contacted her before; she already knew about us being friends. Harry could only think of two people, other than Dumbledore, who knew about their friendship: Snape and Luna. The idea of Luna was laughable; Snape on the other hand... But after spending five years of being paranoid about Snape and then finally coming to accept that he wasn't playing for the other side, Harry was reluctant to believe he was responsible. But what else would explain it? He suppressed a shudder at the further thought of an unknown someone spying on one or more of his meetings with Malfoy.

Seeing Malfoy up ahead, Harry shouted out to him.

"Malfoy, wait."

"I need to be alone right now," Malfoy stated blankly as he stopped walking and turned to face Harry. He looked utterly dejected; the muscles of his face were held tightly and highlighted an early growth of worry lines across his forehead; his eyes were dull, but glistening as if he was on the verge of tears. Harry felt his heart wrench at the sight of Malfoy in such a state.

"I understand, but just remember that I meant what I said before. I don't care if everyone knows, I'm not going anywhere."

Malfoy gave a small smile around the tenseness of his features, and Harry couldn't resist pulling him into a firm embrace. They stood there for a few moments, clinging to each other as if they couldn't survive any other way. Finally Harry relented, and he relaxed his hold slightly.

"I'll see you in Potions," Harry murmured against Malfoy's hair, inhaling deeply and breathing in Malfoy's musky scent.

"That's if you survive until then," Malfoy said in an ominous tone.

Harry leaned back and glanced over his shoulder to see what Malfoy was looking at. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Millicent, and Ginny had arrived at the far end of the corridor. All of them were shocked, mouths agape, eyes wide--all apart from Ron, who just looked furious. Harry felt his stomach sink to his feet.

"Good luck, Potter," Malfoy said, drawing back from Harry's arms and giving him an encouraging smile.

"Thanks, I think I'll need it."

Leaving Malfoy to go on his way, Harry walked up to the other occupants of the corridor and steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation.

"Tell me I didn't just see that, Harry," Ron said heatedly as Harry approached.

"Can we not discuss this here?" Harry asked, trying to stay composed as he felt his heart beginning to race. He motioned in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

"I'll bet you'd rather not discuss it at all!" Ron's voice was cold and haughty, sending an unpleasant shiver up Harry's spine. Harry couldn't see any traces of the loyalty that Ron had shown towards him in previous years. The distant look on Ron's face reminded Harry of the time when his name had been placed into the Goblet of Fire and Ron had refused to believe that Harry didn't do it himself. That same barrier had now been instantly erected.

"Just wait until we get back to the common room, Ron," Hermione said, in an effort to calm him down.

Millicent walked off towards the dungeons, and the rest of them walked up to the Gryffindor common room enveloped within a heavy silence. The entire way, Harry could feel Ron's eyes boring into the back of his head. In an effort to lighten his ominous mood, Harry imagined Malfoy sarcastically humming The Death March and let that fill the anxious void in his head.

As soon as they had stepped through the hole behind the portrait, Ron rounded on Harry.

"What the hell is going on, Harry?" he asked indignantly, his face flushed with anger, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared.

"You heard the howler, Ron," Harry heard himself snap back automatically, irate that Ron was being so pompous about it. He could understand Ron being upset with this sudden revelation, but this was unreasonable. Harry didn't want the conversation to go like this, but he found it hard to hold back when Ron was being such a reactive arse. "I've been seeing Malfoy."

"But... that howler... that was a joke; it had to be a joke," Ron pleaded in disbelief. His expression stiffened further when he saw that Harry was not relenting. "How can you be such an idiot?"

"So I'm an idiot. Are you going to oust me, just like you did with Dean?" Harry asked accusingly, and he immediately wished he hadn't.

"You're the one who's been lying to us, Harry," Ron pointed out, giving Harry a penetrating frosty glare.

"Maybe because I knew damn well how you'd react." I still can't tell them about Malfoy getting the Dark Mark. I promised I wouldn't, and he hasn't said otherwise. Harry couldn't understand, after all they had been through during their time at Hogwarts, why they wouldn't trust him, why they refused to accept that he was capable of making his own choices, choices made for good reasons. I could mention that Dumbledore knows that Malfoy's changed, but why should I have to? Why should they trust his judgement and not mine? And they'd want me to say how Dumbledore knows, which leads me back to the Dark Mark... I don't want to risk them guessing.

"Don't you dare try getting out of this, Harry Potter," Hermione chastised. "The biggest problem here is not you being gay, it's not even you being with Malfoy--although I can't even begin to understand why you would want to--but it's because you kept this from us."

"Are you mad?" Ron spluttered. "This is Malfoy you're talking about? Of course a huge part of the problem is because it's him!"

"He's changed, Ron," Harry tried weakly.

"Yeah right, and You-Know-Who has started doing weekend charity work."

"So just because you don't believe it, he's not allowed to change? Is that it? Well, it's great that you're so willing to give people second chances, Ron." I've got to calm down, Harry reminded himself. I won't get anywhere if I keep reacting like Ron does.

"Malfoys don't count.... This is why you've been telling me to stop hassling him, isn't it?"

"Yes. You're the one who's always starting the fights nowadays; he doesn't."

"That doesn't mean you should trust him, let alone date him," Ron said adamantly, his upper lip curled up in distaste. He then looked at Harry in incredulity as he realised something else. "I bet you haven't really lost the Marauder's Map, have you? You lied about that, as well--just so you could hide your dirty little meetings with that slimy--"

"Ron this isn't helpful," Hermione hastily interjected before Harry was able to retaliate.

"But it's true," Ron insisted in a sulk.

"Why did you keep this quiet, Harry?" Hermione asked, after giving Ron a withered look.

"You heard the reaction he got from his father," Harry knew this didn't explain everything, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. He wasn't prepared to have to deal with this today; he felt as if he should have had a speech drawn up ready in order to make his case.

"Harry, after all we've been through, I would've thought you'd be capable of trusting us more than that. Just think of all the times we've stood by you in the past. I can't understand why you'd have so little faith in your friends," Hermione said, looking perplexed. "Just what has he said to make you hide this from us?"

"I... I made a promise. There are things that I still can't tell you," Ron scoffed at this. "I guess you're just going to have to trust my judgement on this."

"We're supposed to trust you?" Ron spluttered. "After you've been keeping secrets from us for... just how long has it been going on for, Harry?"

"A while," Harry said evasively, and Ron glared at Harry for trying to side step the question. "Since not long after Christmas."

"Bloody hell!"

"Remember who his father is, Harry," Hermione said before Ron could add anything further. "Lucius Malfoy hates you. I hardly think getting friendly with his son is a sure fire way to making yourself safer."

"He's not Lucius."

"No, he's just a mini-Lucius, and a really bad imitation at that," Ron taunted. "You've seen how much he tries to copy his dad. Bloody sickening the way he sucks up to his own father--I suppose it's to get him in practise for when he finally has to suck up to Voldemort--"

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Harry said sharply, feeling a bit taken aback by the force of emotion he felt, emotion triggered by the way Ron was talking about Draco's relationship with Lucius.

"Well, why don't you fill me in on what's really going on then?" Ron asked, raising his voice excessively so that he was nearly shouting at Harry. "Oh, no, sorry, I forgot. You can't. You've promised Malfoy that you'd rather keep his secrets than keep your own friends. Have you forgotten what Wormtail did to your parents?"

"Malfoy's nothing like Peter Pettigrew," Harry spat back. "And this has got nothing to do with my parents."

"You don't know that, Harry," Hermione said as softly as she could, trying her best to defuse the situation. "Just because he's not openly causing trouble, it doesn't mean he's not up to something. How do you know he's not going to do the same to you? Maybe your trust is just a little misplaced."

"I know things that you don't, and I trust him because of those things," Harry stated resolutely. "My opinion is not going to change just because you don't like him."

"Millicent still thinks he's--" Hermione began, but Harry was not prepared to hear another Millicent anecdote.

"I'm well aware of Millicent's opinion of Malfoy," he automatically snapped, his voice louder than he had intended.

"Don't you dare shout at Hermione like that," Ron fumed. He had squared his shoulders and clenched his fists, ready to lash out.

"Ron, I don't need you protecting me," Hermione said, glaring at Ron. Ron bristled and directed an icy stare at Harry for being the cause of friction between himself and Hermione. "Harry, Millicent thinks he's been involved in something that's been planned since Christmas--what if she's right? What if you're a part of that plan? After all, he's had you keeping secrets from your friends. How do you know what he's told you is true? With all this secrecy, it's hard to believe he's not working some elaborate scheme to set you up."

"What makes you think you can trust Millicent anymore than I trust Malfoy? Maybe it's your trust that's misplaced," Harry said, once more reacting on instinct, working off the distrust and irritation he felt regarding Millicent and her continuous slandering of Malfoy. Ron narrowed his eyes at the way Harry spoke towards Hermione, still prepared to jump in and defend Hermione if need be. "How do you know that she's not the one playing double agent?"

"Well, if you'd bothered to get to know her--" Hermione started to say, and Harry had a distinct feeling of déjà vu as far as this topic of conversation was concerned. Why does it always come back to her? This has nothing to do with Millicent; this is about Malfoy and me.

"Yeah, I'm really going to spend time talking with her when all she wants to discuss is how Malfoy is definitely up to something--when I know he isn't."

"Are you really going to let him carry on talking to you like that, Hermione?" Ron asked, having given up on getting anywhere with the conversation. "Because, if you are, I don't want to have to listen to it. I'll only end up trying to protect you, and you'll end up shouting at me. We'll argue, and it'll be over Harry. And right now, I really don't think he's worth it."

"Ron--" Ron didn't wait for Hermione to finish, but he stomped up the stairs towards the dorm.

"Fine!" Harry couldn't resist shouting after him, even though he knew that it was just childish to persist.

Noticing the other Gryffindors present in the room for the first time since the argument began, Harry saw that they were all now hurriedly beginning to disperse in an effort to escape the tense atmosphere that remained.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Harry," Hermione said dryly before leaving to go off to her own dorm.

Harry stood there, unsure what to do. His bag was upstairs, but he didn't want to get it while Ron was still in the dorm. But I've got to get it sometime; it might as well be now. He made his way up the stairs, and when he reached the top, the door to the dormitory banged open, with Ron storming out. Ron said nothing as he barged past Harry, glaring. Harry plodded up to the dorm, his legs feeling like lead. If there had been any chance of regaining his previous closeness with Ron, he'd totally blown it now. Bending down to pick up the bag, a drop of salty liquid dropped from the end of his nose and fell to the floor. Harry sat heavily on his bed, burying his face in his hands and letting the tears run freely. He felt miserable. Why does Ron have to be so reactive? And why did I have to let him get to me? Harry wondered. I guess I deserved all I got. I did lie to them--they have every reason to hate me. At least I've still got Malfoy.

***

The first lesson of the day was Charms, the second of the week, and it seemed to drag endlessly for Harry. Dean had called him over at he walked into the classroom, and they sat together prompting Ron to throw Harry a filthy look. Throughout the lesson, he could feel his skin prickle at the way people were staring at him. The only other person who had spoken to him since the argument was Luna, who he had passed on his way down to the classroom. She had tried to reassure him that it would soon blow over. Right now, Harry found that hard to believe.

Once the lesson had finished, Harry didn't bother to go outside for break, as he didn't want to bump into anyone--especially Ron. Instead he made his way down to the dungeons and waited for Potions to begin. For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to Potions, as he would get to see Malfoy. Malfoy had had the same idea about hanging around the corridor by the lab, and so Harry had not been standing there long before Malfoy trudged by. They smiled and greeted each other with a warm hug and a brief, tender kiss before squeezing into an alcove on one side of the corridor to sit down together.

"How did it go with Weasley and the others?" Malfoy asked, concern on his face.

"We argued about it for a bit but didn't get anywhere. Ron's not talking to me now."

"I'm sorry. I bet there's not a lot you could say to calm them down when they hate me so much."

"It's not your fault... well, not entirely," Harry asserted. "They just don't understand why I trust you."

"Didn't you tell them about stopping me from getting the Dark Mark?"

Malfoy was looking at Harry with a puzzled expression. Harry felt equally baffled by Malfoy's question. "I promised you I wouldn't--you know that."

A huge smile lit up Malfoy's face, and he placed both hands on Harry's cheeks, pulling Harry in for a smacking kiss.

"Potter, you're fantastic, do you know that?"

Harry just looked at Malfoy, stunned. Did Malfoy really have so little faith in people to expect everyone to be capable of breaking his confidence whenever circumstances dictated?

"I automatically assumed, when it came down to your friends finding out, you would have to tell them everything," Malfoy explained. "Not for one moment did I think you would risk upsetting them further--just to keep a promise you made to me months ago."

"I'm not about to go back on what I said just to try and save my own skin."

"You'd have made an appalling Slytherin then."

"The sorting hat nearly put me in Slytherin," Harry admitted.

"I'm glad it didn't: being a Gryffindor really suits you, Potter. You're far too decent to be ruined in my despicable house."

Harry's head swam at the unabashed flattery, and he couldn't resist leaning in to hungrily kiss Malfoy. Harry couldn't wait for the evening to arrive--when they would next be able to have some private time. Harry felt more than ready for Malfoy's little manual request, and he was now getting quite impatient to take things further. They broke off at the sound of several footsteps and chattering. It was some of the other Slytherin sixth years and a group of Gryffindors coming from different directions along the corridor. Harry and Malfoy sheepishly moved out from the alcove and followed them into the classroom.

"You might have Harry fooled, but I know what you still are," Millicent hissed at Malfoy as they passed where she had sat next to Hermione and Ron. Malfoy just gave her a cold look and kept walking to a pair of empty seats on the other side of the room.

Snape noticed that Malfoy and Harry were sitting together, and he gave them a piercing look through narrowed eyes before addressing the rest of the class.

"If you have been paying attention, which I doubt, you will be aware that I now have the displeasure of teaching some of you for Defence Against the Dark Arts. As a result of this extra teaching position, I have rather a lot of work to prepare and organise over the coming weeks. Therefore, I require assistance with a few things. I am certain that at least one of you will volunteer by giving me the opportunity to hand out a detention this lesson."

"Here we go again," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Shall I just paint a target on your head, Potter?" Malfoy joked, giving Harry a smirk.

On the whole, Harry thought this was the most enjoyable Potions lesson he had had all year--or perhaps ever--despite the detentions received. To everyone's surprise, it was Malfoy who was the first to be given one--his first ever detention received in Potions. During the lesson, Snape had overheard them making arrangements to meet up during their lunch break by the lake, and to Harry's dismay, Snape had vindictively told Malfoy to report for his detention at the same time. Harry was also given a detention soon after, but this was to be taken in the evening. Snape was making it very obvious that he still did not approve of them spending time together.

Harry thought of his earlier ideas about who might have been in contact with Narcissa Malfoy. I can't judge Snape's involvement based on what he's like towards us in class, Harry told himself. Loyal or not, I wouldn't put it past him to just be reacting to his annoyance about Malfoy and me. And even if he could hide his own personal feelings on the matter, I don't think he'd want to be publicly seen as sympathetic to Malfoy. Not being able to think of anything constructive on the matter, he put it out of his mind and instead concentrated on his work, enjoying the luxury of being next to Malfoy.

Working alongside Malfoy really helped with his understanding of the lesson, and it was bliss to finally be able to spend time in Malfoy's company openly. Even catching Ron and Hermione frequently looking over and whispering to each other, or the fact that Snape seemed to be happy to use both him and Malfoy for venom-target practise, didn't dampen his mood. Being in Malfoy's company left Harry feeling relaxed, enabling him to concentrate on the potion he was making. He could focus on what he was doing, just knowing that Malfoy was near and that they didn't have to hide anything anymore.

They reluctantly parted once more at lunchtime, each to their own table. Harry sat by himself at the end of the Gryffindor table. Malfoy did the same at the end of the Slytherin table, facing Harry and occasionally throwing silly grins his way. After eating, they said their goodbyes before Malfoy went off to his detention and Harry wandered back to the Gryffindor common room. They would meet up again in Transfigurations, after Malfoy's Arithmancy lesson. Harry had a free period and was planning on spending his time studiously avoiding Ron, who would also be without a lesson to go to.

***

Back in the dorm, Harry bagged the books he would need for his later Transfigurations lesson, and he rushed down the stairs to make his way out of the Gryffindor tower. Ron was sitting in the common room.

"Your boyfriend reckons that if it wasn't for you he'd be off playing Death Eater by now," Ron said as Harry made to walk past him towards the exit. Harry stopped short.

"You've spoken to him?"

"It wasn't my idea. He cornered me, when I was on my way up here at the end of lunchtime. He told me you kept it quiet because you believed in him--because you knew that was the only way he was going to accept help from anyone."

"I didn't want to risk losing his confidence in me and going back to Voldemort. Can't you understand that?"

Ron nodded his head reluctantly, and Harry cautiously sat on the sofa opposite. "I guess so. That's if he's actually telling the truth about the Dark Mark. Do you really believe he was going to get it?"

"Yes," Harry affirmed. Ron didn't look impressed with this one word answer, so Harry added, "You didn't see him, Ron, when he was supposed to be leaving. I really don't think he could've faked his feelings towards getting the Mark."

"I still think you're being a gullible idiot."

Harry looked at Ron's expression, he didn't seem angry anymore. Maybe bewildered or resigned, but there wasn't the same venom that Harry had seen earlier. Harry smiled and gave a small chuckle in relief. Ron smiled back before speaking again.

"I couldn't help noticing in Potions that when Millicent said she knew what Malfoy still is he didn't exactly deny it."

"Was there any point?" Harry asked rhetorically. "No one would have believed him."

"I suppose that's true... Look, I don't want to argue with you again, Harry. But I do have a couple of questions going around my head."

"I'll keep my temper if you keep yours," Harry jested, prompting a smile from Ron.

"Why did you have to start... dating him? If you're that way inclined, why not Dean? That would've been a shock, and I probably would have overreacted to that as well, but it would've been better than this."

Harry looked at him in amazement, appalled that Ron was serious in his implication that choosing whom you were attracted to could be that simple. "Ron! That's like saying you should go out with someone like Lavender, just because you're male, she's female, and you're both straight."

Ron pulled a face at Lavender's name. "You don't fancy Dean then?" Ron double-checked, a little awkwardly. Harry just raised his eyebrows in response, unimpressed with the question. "Do you realise that, between you and Dean, Seamus is worried that it's got something to do with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he was friends with Dean before the ball, and they always used to sit together. Recently, it's been you who Seamus has been sitting next to--"

Harry's burst of laughter cut Ron off short. Poor Seamus, I've given him a complex! "Seamus certainly didn't have any bearing on things. He's not my type, Ron--although I think he's probably Dean's."

Ron seemed amused by this, but there was something else he wasn't saying. Harry could see that Ron was going over something in his mind. Harry came to a sudden realisation.

"You're not my type, either, Ron. You don't have to worry about me jumping you, or spying on you in the dorm."

"I never thought that you--" Ron began to deny, but then he decided to change tack. "What's Malfoy got that I haven't!"

They both chuckled, and Harry felt the remaining tension between them dissipate.

"So, you've... kissed him?" Ron asked with his face screwed up in disgust, a little unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer to this one.

"Yes, I have. And before you ask anything else, think how you'd feel if I asked the same about you and Hermione."

"I have no intention of finding out about anything else that you and Malfoy get up to," Ron asserted, and then he began to fidget in his seat, giving Harry the impression that another question was to follow. Harry wasn't disappointed. "So, if you and he are... well... you know... how come he can't even bring himself to call you Harry?"

"I guess it's because he's always known me as Potter--I still call him Malfoy. He's been Malfoy for so long now that it's hard to think of him as anything else."

"I know that feeling," Ron said. Harry looked a bit confused, and Ron explained. "To me, the name of Malfoy has always been associated with a complete git, and so it feels bloody unnatural to think of him as anything other than a git."

"I meant I don't think of him as Draco, and it would be dead weird if he started calling me Harry. It's nice... it's just a thing we have. Like nicknames." And it was "nice", more than nice, Harry realised, a way of relating that they shared which made him feel connected to Malfoy. And the way Malfoy sometimes managed to intone his surname was downright naughty; Harry loved it.

Ron cringed at Harry's choice of description--the "thing" that he and Malfoy had--but sat there quietly, resisting the temptation to pick holes in Harry's reasoning. "You two did seem to get on really well, earlier; I've never seen you enjoy Potions so much. But we're still worried about you, Harry."

"Thanks, Ron; that means a lot to me, but you don't have to be so concerned. I've trusted him with a whole heap of things. He hasn't let me down so far."

"Even so, ever since we've been at Hogwarts he's had it in for you. He's always been such a wanker."

"I know, and he knows it, too. I think he's paid for a lot of the stuff he's done, in his own way. And I know he cares about me... You should have heard him last night--seeing me nearly get bitten by Lupin freaked him out quite a bit."

"Last night, when you were supposedly wandering the corridors alone? So you were with him when you found Trevor?"

"Please don't say anything, Ron. If anyone else finds out he was around when Trevor turned up, they're bound to accuse Malfoy of setting it up."

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"And six months ago, I wouldn't have put it past him, either. I want to tell you more, Ron; I want to explain it all to you. But I can't, not without telling you personal things about Malfoy that I've got no business telling anyone," Harry looked at Ron, pleading with his eyes for Ron to accept this. "I don't want you to hate me over this, Ron."

"I don't hate you, Harry, I'm just angry at how you've handled it. I don't trust Malfoy, and it's going to take one hell of a miracle to convince me he's changed--I still agree with Millicent that he's probably up to something," Ron said, looking Harry straight in the eye. "I don't think I can trust you completely at the moment, either. But I don't hate you."

"I guess that's fair enough," Harry accepted, just pleased that he and Ron were back on speaking terms--thanks to Malfoy.

"We'd better get going," Ron announced, grabbing his bag and standing up. "Transfigurations starts in a few minutes."

They walked together in a companionable silence. Harry understood that Ron still wasn't comfortable with the ways things were, and he would probably take a long time to get used to him dating Malfoy. At least the friction from this morning had dissipated. When they arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, Harry saw that most of the class were already waiting in the corridor. But Harry couldn't see either Hermione or Malfoy. They approached Neville and Millicent, with Harry hanging back a few paces behind Ron, feeling awkward in their company.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked Neville.

"McGonagall came and got her out of Arithmancy," Neville said. "They've found Crookshanks."

"Malfoy was taken out ten minutes later," Millicent added, pointedly staring at Harry as she said this. "So it seems he had something to do with it."

"But you don't know that for certain," Harry cautiously pointed out.

"You really are naïve to think you know Malfoy that well--he's capable of taking absolutely anyone for a ride, Harry. You especially."

Harry held back from responding to Millicent's comment, not wanting to risk an argument now that he'd smoothed things over with Ron.

The lesson was awkward, with Harry sitting on one side of Ron, and Neville and Millicent on the other; Millicent insisted on making the occasional dig. Ron and Harry carefully kept any topic of conversation between them to the confines of the lesson. He hoped Malfoy was all right, that he had been pulled out of the lesson for another reason. He knew Malfoy wasn't to blame for Crookshanks' disappearance--after all, they had been together that evening. Dumbledore probably wants to talk to him about the howler, Harry assumed. I'll be able to speak to him after dinner, and then I can find out what's happened.

***