Happily Ever After?

Chapter 13- What is Truth?

Harry looked at Draco, stunned. "D-dead?" he said faintly. "N-no... no, that's impossible..."

Draco gave him a bitter look. "If you'll excuse Harry," Draco said, grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him. "He's got business to attend to. Weasley."

"Malfoy," Ginny said, nodding firmly at him. She gave Harry a bittersweet look before sitting down in a chair and looking into the sky.

Harry let himself be dragged away by Draco reluctantly. "I won't even ask about that whole scene," Draco said in a low voice. "If you never mention it again."

Harry mumbled agreement. "So - so what's this about Millicent being - being dead?" he asked, gulping, hoping that it was some sort of sick joke.

"Emergency Order meeting," Draco said softly, giving the paintings strange looks. "Dumbledore sent me to find you."

"How'd she die?" Harry inquired.

Draco remained silent, tugging Harry along after him. "You'll see," he said blankly.

Harry was scared. "You don't think she was-?"

"Murdered," Draco said coolly. "By the looks of it? Yes."

Harry blinked. "Who would want to murder Millicent? She's so - "

"Shh." Draco put a finger to his lips. "Wait."

Draco looked over his shoulder and checked the hallway before pulling aside a tapestry and tapping the wall behind it with his wand.

"Chrysanthemum."

The wall seemed to sink away - and a fair-sized room was revealed.

There was a fire in the fireplace and a few comfy couches spread across the room. Dumbledore stood in the front of the room, conversing softly with Arabella, who was pacing slightly, her hands behind her back.

Padma and Hannah were speaking softly in hushed tones. Ron and Parvati were both silent, each sitting on their own separate seat. Harry and Draco sat down on the remaining sofa.

Parvati gave Harry a blank look as he sat. Harry returned it with a cold stare.

He didn't even look at Ron.

Or Hannah.

Or anyone, really. Anyone but Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gave him a soft smile before clearing his throat. "As most of you probably know," he began in that calming voice of his. Yes, it was calming. Extremely calming, in a sense.

It was simply Dumbledore's way.

"A student has passed away from our midst." He paused for a minute. Parvati bit her lip.

"Who?"

"Millicent Bulstrode."

Parvati looked down and shook her head slowly. Arabella stopped pacing and gaze them all sincere looks.

"She was found dead less than an hour ago," she said in a hushed tone. "In her own dormitory."

"No one knew the password," Dumbledore continued, "except myself, Arabella, and - Draco."

Draco's eyes widened. "You don't think I -"

"I did not say that I did," Dumbledore said, holding up his hand. "I do not believe that you, or Arabella, or myself, for that matter, murdered Miss Bulstrode."

"Was there a body?" Hannah asked quietly.

Arabella and Dumbledore exchanged significant looks. "Yes," Arabella said softly. "Yes. But - "

"There was a hole through her head," Dumbledore said quietly. "Whoever killed her obviously didn't want to risk her survival."

"Then why didn't they just use magic?" Ron asked quietly. "They could have - "

"There are magic sensors in every room of the castle," Dumbledore said. "We would automatically know if someone had used Dark magic."

"But then - "

"I don't think the question is as much who killed her," Padma said slowly. "It's more - "

"Why did someone want her dead?" her twin finished. "She was always so kind to everyone... even if she was a Slytherin, look at Draco! He's a Slytherin, too, and he manages to maintain a certain amount of decency!"

Draco gave Parvati an amused look before commenting softly. "It's obvious, isn't it?" he said, a sad expression on his face.

Silence resounded through the room. "She knew something," Draco said quietly. "She must have. Something about Hermione. She knew."

"It didn't necessarily have to be about Hermione," Ron said, giving him a look. "It could have been - "

"No," Draco said roughly, giving him a look. "You know damn well it was Hermione, Weasley, and don't try to deny it. I can see it in your eyes."

The hatred between them swelled with silence. It was broken when Parvati spoke.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," she said. "Draco - Ron - stop. Just stop."

They paused for a moment and obeyed. Their mutual respect for Parvati was enough to silence them.

"But - what could she have known?" Harry said quietly, looking up. "What could she have possibly found out - that we didn't already know?"

"Maybe we do know it," Padma suggested.

"I don't think so," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "No - no, definitely not. Because they would have tried to dismantle our research if we knew."

Hannah spoke.

"Could we - you know - take a peak inside the room?" she said quietly. "Just - just for evidence, you know?"

"I think it'd be a good idea," Harry said quickly, glancing at Dumbledore. "Just to see?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "You know the way, Draco."

Draco rose and left the room. The others followed in silent procession, wondering where they were going.

Draco murmured the password to the statue under its breath and it moved aside, revealing a door. He pushed it open gently, and the room was unveiled.

It was very similar to the layout of Draco's dormitory, although with a few minor differences. (Draco's mirror did not have pink frills on it.)

It was hard to believe someone had died in here.

Draco clapped and the light came on. He ran an idle finger slowly across the hardwood dresser.

"She was on her bed," he said softly. "The house-elves changed the sheets, though. I doubt that will do much, evidence-wise, though."

Harry squinted at the room. It was eerie, the very thought - Millicent. Dead. Here? How? Why?

There was a far-off gasp.

"Ha - Harry..." Hannah said softly. "I think you'd better look at this."

Patricia Patil tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear while staring down at the parchment in front of her, biting her lip. She dipped her quill in the ink again, paused, and then sighed, setting it down again.

Suddenly she felt a pair of strong arms slip around her. "Hey," murmured a voice in her ear. "Whom are you writing to?"

"My mother," she sighed, turning her head slightly so that Remus's nose was only an inch from her own. "She wants to know - " Patricia sighed and chuckled. "She - she wants to - "

"What's so funny?" Remus asked, frowning. Patricia almost burst into tears of laughter.

"She wants to - oh, Merlin, Remus. My mother's so naïve."

"What did she want?"

Patricia burst into a fresh wave of giggles. Remus rolled his eyes and sealed her lips with a gentle kiss.

Patricia gladly obliged.

When she pulled away, Remus flipped around and sat next to her on the bench. "There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," he said cautiously, "but I'm not sure what you'll say."

"What is it?" Patricia asked; her brow furrowed. She put the cap on her bottle of ink and frowned at him. "You know I'd never - "

"It's just, I've never talked to anyone about it before," Remus said, running a hand through his hair. "Well. I told Sirius about it, but he just burst out laughing and told me I was a git."

"Remus." Patricia leaned forward and swept the hair out of his face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's not as insane as you would think, from Sirius's reaction," Remus said quickly, looking down. "But it's not - incredibly sensible. It's just - I don't know..."

"Remus..."

"And I know that I'm sounding really stupid while I'm talking away, but I just don't know what to say, so covering it up with words is just my way of making it seem like I know what I'm talking about."

"Remus..."

"And I just - I love you, Patricia. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do," she said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You remind me every day. And I love you." She placed a fleeting kiss on his forehead.

"Patricia," he said softly, playing with her hair absently, "you have no idea how much I love you. I myself barely have the slightest inkling. But from what I know, it's a lot, and that should count for something.

"I think of you all day, every day. It's getting to the point where I - where I can't sleep without you in my arms. And I think about you. And when I finally drift off to sleep, all my dreams are about you. Well. Except that one with Sirius and the giant pair of socks - er. Never mind. The point is that I love you. You're - you're my life, Patricia, and it just wouldn't be life without you. Without you - I would cease to exist. You are my everything - my angel - my immaculate. I love you."

"Remus..."

"When I met you, I was broken. I was falling apart - I was going insane. You - you were always there for me. You gave me strength - you gave me hope. You made me believe that - that there are some good things in this world, and that they're worth fighting for."

"Remus..." Patricia reached out for him. Remus turned away.

"I'm halfway through, Patricia, don't stop me now." Remus swallowed. "Patricia. I love you. Will you -?"

His voice broke.

"Remus..." Patricia said, a light in her eyes.

"Will you - I mean to say - I understand if you don't want to - if I were you - I wouldn't want to - "

"Remus." He stopped and gave her a sheepish look. "I would be honored to marry you. If you'd take me."

Remus paused and pulled out of his pocket a small box. He flipped it open and, trembling, slid a beautiful diamond ring onto her finger.

"It's beautiful," Patricia gasped. "R-Remus, you didn't have to - "

"I had to," Remus said softly. "Patricia - this is the best moment of my life."

Patricia kissed him. "I love you."

There was silence for a moment. "Do you want to know what my mother asked?" she said quietly, a smile pulling at her lips.

"What?" he asked, an adorable puzzled look on his face.

"She asked me when the wedding was going to be."

Hannah handed him a small, leather-bound book. Her hands were trembling, and she didn't dare meet his eyes. Harry gave her a questioning look and opened the book.

He recognized it immediately as the small leather book Hermione was always writing in. Blinking, he flipped open to a random page and began to read. Her handwriting was atrocious - because she couldn't see the writing, he thought vaguely. But the words were what was intriguing him.

13 Jan 03

I feel so alone.

No one notices me anymore. Ron passed me in the hall today and offered to help me to class - I snapped back that I was fine. I fell down the stairs - my lip is still swelling, although I put some ice on it. Apparently Ron and Harry are fighting - I do hope they make up soon. Maybe they'll realize that something's wrong with me.

And then there's Malfoy.

What Harry sees in him, I'll never know. But the word in the Tower is that they're the best of friends. I'm still not sure how it happened - but it's certainly very intriguing. Not something you see every day, is it, two enemies becoming best friends?

On the other hand, I know why Malfoy agreed to it. Harry, the stupid, lovable prat - he's more blind than I am. Malfoy's had it for him bad since third year. I can't believe he hasn't noticed - Malfoy always watched him in classes, went out of his way to insult him - blushed whenever Harry teased him. It was so obvious. I know Harry doesn't like him that way - even he's not that naïve. I'm still not sure what to think of Malfoy - I've nothing against him but four years of endless mocking.

Then again, I guess that counts for something, doesn't it?

They've obviously been working on something for me. Something that - night help? I don't think there's anything. It's impossible for me to ask, of course - my curse won't allow me to do anything but grow farther and farther away. I think my lip is bleeding now - I can taste it. I hope - oh I so hope - that they find something. I know I'm hoping for the impossible, but -

I'm just not ready to die.

I wish Harry could just know that he's being a git for ignoring Malfoy's feelings (I hear they think he likes me - ha! Some people will believe anything they are told) and for being a bastard to Ron. Neither of them deserve it, nor does Harry.

Truly this is a horrible curse - dying without friends truly is worse than dying with them all beside you and not enough time, because in the end, there is never enough time.

Hermione.

Harry's strength faltered and he dropped the book onto the floor.

"Ha-Harry?" Hannah said slowly. Everyone was watching the two of them. "Are - are you all right?"

Harry's eyes drifted to Draco and laid on him for a long moment.

Draco.

Draco.

Draco.

Was that the whole reason for his offer of friendship? Was he really just an object of his affection - could Draco really -?

But Draco loved Hermione!

And yet...

And yet that wasn't so. Hermione had answered that, too. Even in her poisoned half-life, she continued to solve everything.

He had put up a good act. It was true. But it was all rather blatantly obvious now, looking back - hadn't Harry been Draco's obsession for five years? Hadn't all of Draco's time been spent on him - making him miserable, perhaps secretly wishing he could make him happy? And wouldn't that be the perfect cover-up - being "in love" with a girl so that the boy you love would never even suspect?

But Harry didn't like him that way.

If there was any one thing in his life he was sure of, it was that he was as straight as a board. He had made mistakes before. He knew that. But this was the solid truth -

He didn't love Draco.

Draco loved him.

What was he to do?

Harry stared at the boy in front of him, trembling. Draco cocked his head to the side and opened his delicate mouth, speaking softly.

"What does it say?"

Hannah and Harry's eyes met for a fleeting moment. Harry's eyes widened in a plea for help - Hannah shrugged. Harry turned back to Draco.

"It's Hermione's diary," he said softly. "There's an entry - from a few weeks ago - she was writing. The real her. She knows what's happening to her. She knows what's happening, she knows she's dying."

Draco's jaw dropped, along with everyone else's in the room.

Harry felt Hannah's eyes burning holes in the back of his head. Harry turned to her for a moment and gave her an optical speech.

Please. Please. Please. If he knows that I know, things will never be the same. Please. Just don't tell him. He could get over it - he could get over me. Please. Please, just don't ruin this for me. Please.

Hannah slowly nodded. "She - she doesn't think there's a cure," she said softly, swallowing all of the other words that she wanted to say.

"Millicent - she must have found this notebook..." Parvati said slowly. "She knew. She knew, and someone found out that she knew. That - that notebook is dangerous material. Don't touch it. Who knows what Hermione may have used to keep her thoughts private?"

Harry glanced at the book on the floor. Then he gave Parvati a cold stare. Parvati glared.

"Harold James Potter," she hissed, "you are being such - a bloody - PRAT."

This was a rather abrupt change of subject for those in the room. They furrowed their brows in confusion, while Parvati advanced on Harry, her wavering finger pointed at him.

"You never listen to anyone, Harry Potter," she choked. "I've been trying to tell you for the last few bloody hours, that you didn't hear what you thought you heard, and yet you're still not listening to me! You're such a little hero, Harry Potter, and sometimes you sicken me.

"I don't hate you, and I don't think you're insane. Even if I should. Even if it makes sense. Even if everyone else does. I've given up on them, Harry Potter. They can think whatever they want of you, but that won't change the truth, because the truth is that you're a good person, deep down. Sometimes you just suffocate that good person inside with your inflated ego.

"I've given up trying to convince Lavender that you're perfectly sane. If you knew Lavender a quarter as well as I do, you'd know why. She's the most stubborn old mule you'll ever meet, and maybe I should stop hanging around her, but I don't for the same reason that I don't abandon you.

"You have no idea what true friendship is like, Harry Potter. You've had it shoved into your face, and you still can't accept that some people just like you for more than the fact that you vanquished evil. You self-absorbed prat!"

Parvati grunted and rolled her eyes. Harry stared at her for a long moment.

Time was lost in that moment. It was but a mere earthly technicality that mattered not in this otherworldly moment. And the two of them came to a mutual, unspoken agreement.

He didn't say a word, but Parvati understood. She smiled slightly.

"But I am sorry I made you think that."

"And I'm sorry I believed it," Harry said softly.

There was another moment of silence, and then the connection was gone, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Harry sighed. "Okay," he said slowly, "now we know why Millicent was killed. The question now is - who did it?"

"It's obvious now, isn't it?" Ron piped up, glaring at him. Harry felt an upsurge of guilt, thinking of Hermione's entry.

"No," he snapped. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to enlighten us?"

Ron's eyes lightened for a moment.

Two words. That was all it took, and the room exploded into sound.