Blackmail

Chapter 9

After the revelations of that night in the empty classroom, life was so much easier for Harry. For the first time in what felt like forever, the great weight was lifted from his shoulders, and he felt happy. He and Draco were happy together.

From then on, they met almost every evenings. Not just for sex, but for simple kissing, hand holding, snuggling, talking… These were types of things they couldn’t do during the day. Because during the sunlit hours, they couldn’t express their true feelings. They couldn’t hold hands walking down the hallways like other couples could do. They couldn’t be open about their relationship. They still had to maintain the façade of arch enemies, or indifferent classmates at the very least. Neither of them were ready for the whole of Hogwarts to know about them.

However, Harry’s two close friends knew. When he got back to Gryffindor, very late that night (or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it), Hermione had made him give her a detailed account of what exactly had transpired between them. Afterwards, she informed him that she was delighted for the both of them. Ron was still hesitant. While Harry was away, Hermione had told Ron specifically who Harry had fallen in love with. Hearing about it later, Harry was glad that he wasn’t present. According to Hermione, Ron didn’t take the news well, to put it lightly. "It’s not the gay issue," he had said furiously. "It’s the Malfoy issue." And Harry could understand that. Ron just needed to get to know Draco a little better. Once he got to know the real Draco, he would realize what Harry saw in him.

Yes, Harry kept thinking to himself. Everything was going well. The school year was almost over. Soon they would be graduating and shoved out into the so called real world. No more Hogwarts. Then what will happen with Draco and I? He thought to himself while lying in bed one night. But as soon as that notion entered his mind, he immediately pushed it away. He refused to trouble his remaining weeks of school with such worries. The year had been stressful enough, and he resolved that he would breeze through the rest of it with ease, spending blissful nights alone with Draco.

But Harry should have known better. Because in real life, things never go according to plan, and people never stay truly happy for too long.

This high point in Harry’s life ended abruptly one day at breakfast, three weeks before graduation. Things had started off as normal. Harry had just sat down, and having exchanged the usual "good morning" smiles with Draco who was seated across the room at the Slytherin table, was now helping himself to some fried eggs. Like always, a barn owl from the Daily Prophet just dropped off Hermione’s morning issue of the wizarding newspaper — right into Ron’s cereal.

"Blasted owl," Ron muttered, cleaning up the mess.

Hermione pulled the now somewhat soggy newspaper out of Ron’s cereal bowl and unrolled it. She took one look at the headline, and let out an audible gasp. Harry, who was busy studying how Draco ate his French toast, jumped at the sound. He turned to his friend.

"What is it? What’s happened?"

Soundlessly, Hermione handed him the newspaper.

There, sprawled across the front page in huge print, was the headline:

PRESTIGIOUS MINISTRY OFFICIAL LUCIUS MALFOY DEAD

The article, complete with a moving portrait of the scowling man, went on to say that Mr. Malfoy had been found dead in his home the previous night by his wife. Aurors came shortly thereafter, and led Mrs. Malfoy, who was near hysterics, into their offices for questioning. Homicide is suspected but not yet confirmed, and they’re currently looking for suspects.

"Harry," Ron whispered. "What do you think happened?"

Harry didn’t answer. He was staring over at the Slytherin table, at Draco. The blond boy was still happily eating his breakfast and conversing with Crabbe. He didn’t get the paper, and he had no idea what had happened.

"Harry, what’s wrong?" Ron tried again tentatively when his friend was unresponsive. "It’s no big loss to the world, you know…"

"Hush, Ron," Hermione snapped. "Can’t you tell that he’s worried about Draco?"

Harry tuned them both out. He was suddenly no longer aware of the things going on around him, of the growing commotion at the Gryffindor table as the news spread, because Pansy Parkinson had just gotten up and moved down the table to sit next to Draco. Harry watched as she whispered something into his ear.

She pulled away and watched Draco carefully, along with Harry and many of the other Slytherins who had just found out. Draco was now sitting quite still. He spoke something that looked harsh to Pansy and gave the slightest shake of his head.

But Pansy picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet and handed it to Draco with a sad expression on her face. Draco spotted the headline, and reached out with a trembling hand to take the paper from her. He scanned the article and then slowly set the newspaper down.

A young Gryffindor got up, ran over to a friend at the Ravenclaw table, sat next to her, and started talking to her very fast. The other Ravenclaws leaned in to hear the news, one or two of them glancing up occasionally to look over at Draco.

Harry still could not take his eyes off the whole thing. Draco was now very pale, paler than usual. Every trace of red was gone from his complexion. Pansy reached over and laid a hand on Draco’s arm, saying something sympathetically. Draco jerked away and stood up, his face drawn.

Most of the students were now watching the spectacle. Whispers were spreading around the Hall.

Professor Snape stood up from the teacher’s table and was now heading toward Draco, probably to comfort his favorite student. Headmaster Dumbledore was looking at him, concerned.

But Draco brushed past Snape without giving him one look, and silently left the Great Hall.

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry was starting after him.

"Harry, don’t!" Hermione hissed, grabbing his arm. "People will see!"

"I don’t care," Harry said fiercely. "I need to see if he’s alright." He wrenched his wrist out of her grasp and followed Draco.

The other boy was making his way quickly down the hallway that led towards the dungeons.

"Draco!" Harry called.

Draco didn’t slow, so Harry broke into a run. He caught up with him just as he was about to go turn left and enter a hallway that eventually led to Slytherin House. He stopped by the entrance to the corridor and turned silently to Harry.

"Draco…" Harry started, then swallowed. Now that he had caught Draco, he realized he had no idea what to say. "Draco, I’m sorry…"

Draco stared at him disbelievingly. "Oh, so you’re sorry, huh?"

Dimly, Harry nodded. He didn’t understand. What was going on?

Draco gave a short laugh. "They said that he was killed last night. Do you know what we were doing last night, Potter? Do you remember?"

Harry nodded slowly. "We were-"

"We were screwing. I was screwing Harry Potter while my father was getting killed. There’s a bitter sort of irony to that, isn’t there?" He let out another hysterical laugh.

Harry gulped and hesitantly tried again. "I’m sure they’ll find whoever killed him."

"Oh, they won’t have to worry about that for long," Draco said fiercely. "I know who killed him. It was Voldemort."

Harry gaped. "How do you-?"

Draco stepped forward and cut him off. "And do you know why? Do you know why my father’s dead?" His expression darkened and he jabbed a finger sharply into Harry’s chest. "It’s because of you, Potter. It’s because you’re still alive. It’s because I failed to deliver you to him."

"I don’t under-" Harry broke off. He realized with a sinking feeling that that is why Draco blackmailed him in the first place, why he had started this whole thing — to break him and hand him over to his father.

"Oh," Harry finished sadly. He himself saw the real Draco Malfoy now. He saw that he was indeed capable of cruel things like this, and that Ron was right. He felt saddened, betrayed, and… angry.

"How could you?" he whispered. "How could you do such a thing?"

Draco laughed hollowly. "Finally figured it out, eh, Potter?"

He turned and walked away.

Harry stared after him. He reached a hand up to rub the place on his chest where Draco had poked him, which was, oddly enough, just over his heart.