The Marks We Bear

Chapter 3
Thurs 25th Sept

That morning at breakfast Draco received an owl from his father along with a package of food and other stuff from his mother.

Making sure no-one was close enough to read over his shoulder he opened the letter...

'Draco,

I hope everything is going well at school. I hear that you are not yourself this year, I am presuming that you are following my advice to focus more on your duties than on your social life.

I and our mutual friend look forward to hearing about everything you have been doing in the near future. I am sure we will find anything you might wish to tell us about to be very interesting.

Lucius Malfoy'

Draco crumpled the letter into a ball and stuffed it into his pocket. 'your duties', 'our mutual friend'... could his father be any more transparent. Was he under the impression Draco might have forgotten what he was supposed to be doing?

He knew he was overreacting to the letter but still he wanted to grab his father and scream in his face to leave him alone. He had been in a good mood when he had got up. He and Granger seemed to be getting on pretty well now and he had Double Dark Arts this morning with Harry. He had almost been able to forget that he was stuck in the middle of some twisted plan to kill Harry Potter and take over the world.

It was all so stupid. Take over the world... why? The world wasn't perfect but that was no reason to go over the top and try and take it over. Did his father really think that a psychopathic pervert like Voldemort would do better at running it than the people doing it now? Cause paperwork didn't really seem like something Voldemort was very good at and running the world took an awful lot of paperwork. Draco ought to know, he was studying Magical Politics & Law this year. Maybe his father thought that Voldemort would do the taking over bit and then he would do the running bit, end up with all the real power. Was that why his father let him... he didn't even want to think about that though. Wondering why reminded him too much of what and how and he suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

He pushed his plate away and carried his package back down to his dormitory, taking a moment to sit on his bed and feel sorry for himself before he headed up to class.

As he walked up to the class, unusually late, he wondered if Granger had kept him a seat. She had said yesterday in Astronomy that he should sit with them again since he wasn't really getting along with the other Slytherins right now. He had suspected that the offer was actually part of some internal power struggle between her and Weasley but had accepted anyway.

----------------------

Harry had not had a very pleasant breakfast although it had probably been better than Hermione's. Ron was still not speaking to her and Harry, while not exactly mad at her, was not really in the mood to give her any leeway either.

They walked up to Defence Against the Dark Arts in a stony silence. When they got there they sat down in a row with Harry in the middle, Hermione sat her bag on the chair next to her so no-one else could sit in it. Then she took out a small piece of parchment, scribbled something on it and passed it surreptitiously to Harry.

It read, 'Did you get the stuff I left for you?'

Harry scowled and turned the paper over. He wrote, 'I burned it. Why won't you just drop it?' and passed it back to her.

She glared back at him and then picked up her bag and moved one seat down, plumping her bag on the seat between them. Her look said, 'Fine, be like that.'

In return he turned his back on her and tried to engage Ron in conversation.

"So, um... did you get that Muggle Studies essay finished yet?"

"Yeah, I finished it last night. Where were you last night anyway?"

"Oh... just about. Avoiding Hermione."

"How come?"

"Well... she'd just want to talk about the fact that you're not talking to her or else go on about her classwork."

"Yeah, she's..." Ron broke off and started scowling.

Following his gaze Harry saw that Malfoy had arrived and was coming towards them. In fact Hermione was beckoning him over. //Here we go again,// thought Harry. He thought Malfoy looked a little down about something and wondered what was wrong. Then he wondered when he'd started being so attuned to Malfoy's moods that he would even notice the slight signals he gave off that indicated what they were. Draco wasn't exactly an open book. Draco? Gods, where had that come from.

Draco sat down in the seat Hermione was frantically indicating he should sit in and was about to say hello to Potter when he caught a look from him which clearly conveyed that while he, Harry, was quite happy to sit next to Malfoy and talk to him, now was really not a good time to do so owing to the fact that Weasley was about to blow a gasket and possibly take half the classroom with him if he so much as gave him, Malfoy, the time of day.

Draco nodded his comprehension and turned away, pondering his increasing ability to read Potter's expressions. Not that Harry was hard to read but still. He guessed it was just familiarity, apparently it didn't breed contempt after all. Who knew.

Harry spent a rather tense couple of hours between one person he couldn't talk to and another who was too annoyed to string a sentence together. However about a half hour before the end of the class Malfoy leant over to take something out of his bag and slipped a note onto Harry's desk. Harry quickly hid it under his arm and glanced over to Ron to make sure he hadn't noticed but Ron was oblivious to everything, glowering at his notes. Harry opened up the note and read it...

'Potter,

Read up on Silencing Potions for tomorrow, Snape always tells the Slytherins what we're doing in advance.

Draco'

Harry looked over at Draco in amazement but he was looking the other way. He turned back to the note and let his fingers trace over Draco's elegant signature. After a moment he folded it back up and tucked it into his pocket. Then he tore off a piece of his own parchment and scribbled,

'Snape sucks.

Thanks,

Harry'

Trying to look inconspicuous he bent down to tug his sock up and dropped the note into Draco's bag. That certainly explained why even the thickest of the Slytherins seemed to manage better at Potions than the Gryffindors.

----------------------

Later that day things came to something of a head on the Ron front, though neither Harry nor Hermione were there to see it. That afternoon Ron and Draco had double Muggle Studies together, a subject neither Harry nor Hermione were taking. As a result they only heard about it after the fact.

In the meantime Harry was stuck with Hermione for a free period and then Spell Creation and he had the horrible feeling she wasn't going to give up.

However after a few swiftly shut down starts she limited herself to regular chit chat and dark looks that implied this was not going away.

When they arrived at their last class of the day, Herbology, Ron didn't show up. At first they thought he was just late but apparently not. Finally Harry leaned over to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was also taking Muggle Studies, and asked, "Where's Ron?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" asked Hermione.

"Oh boy. Ron sat next to Malfoy and none of us had the faintest idea why until half way through class he leaps out his seat and starts yelling at him to stay away from Hermione and Malfoy tells him to mind his own business, then Ron said Hermione was his business and Malfoy said that it wasn't his fault if Hermione liked him better than she liked Ron..."

"Oh no," muttered Hermione. "I can already see where this is going. Are they just in trouble or are they in traction?"

Justin shrugged. "Both I think. Ron punched him in the face and then Malfoy hexed him."

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "I am going to kill him. He sat next to Malfoy on purpose just so he could start a fight."

"Was Ma... I mean... is Ron okay?" Harry asked, hoping Justin might cover the state of both.

"I dunno... I didn't catch the spell Malfoy used but it dropped him like that." Justin clicked his fingers. "It was pretty neat actually. I never saw anyone draw their wand so fast. Dangerous little bastard. Anyway Professor Simmons had both of them out of there before we could really figure out what he'd done to him."

Their hour long Herbology class seemed to drag incredibly after that, both of them desperate to find out what was going on. When class ended Harry and Hermione both raced for the Hospital Wing. They were met as they opened the door by Madame Pomfrey.

"Now, now. Slow down there. Mr Weasley is going to be just fine."

"Can we see him?" panted Hermione.

"I'm afraid not, he'll need complete quiet for a few days. Now run along."

"But what did Malfoy do to him?" asked Harry. "I thought he just Stupefied him or something."

Madame Pomfrey's expression turned very serious. "Malfoy didn't use any curse you children need to know about. Now go on with you... you can visit Mr Weasley in a couple of days."

"You mean he used some sort of Dark Arts thing?" asked Harry, horrified.

"I told you, run along. Professor Dumbledore will deal with Mr Malfoy."

-----------------

Draco sat in Professor Dumbledore's office under the stern eye of Professor McGonagall and waited. She had confiscated his wand and he knew he was in serious trouble. To put it simply, he was completely and totally screwed.

The spell he had used on Weasley was not the sort of thing you found on the Hogwarts curriculum, strictly Dark Arts. He hadn't even known he'd cast it until it was done, his reaction to the physical attack so instinctive it had all been over before he realised he was even holding his wand. The words already past his lips... Disanimus.

It was half way between Stupefy and Avada Kedavra, if not treated quickly it could kill. It sent the recipient into a coma like state, suspended between life and death. He had been drilled in it over the summer, obviously his training had stuck better than he'd thought.

But he knew Weasley would be fine, he'd been treated straight away and Madame Pomfrey knew what she was doing. No, it was he who was in real trouble... and not from Dumbledore either. This could screw up everything. He had to convince Dumbledore not to write to his father... his father would still hear about it of course but chances were he wouldn't get the details or know what spell Draco had used. There weren't any other Slytherin's in his Muggle Studies class. If Dumbledore wrote to him his father might decide his cover was blown, that there was no chance he could accomplish his mission. Then he would be called back home... back to join Voldemort.

The door behind him opened and Dumbledore entered.

"Headmaster," said McGonagall. "I presume you have heard what occurred?"

"Indeed, indeed." He sat down opposite Draco with a serious expression. "Well, Mr Malfoy, what do you have to say for yourself?"

This was it, this was his one chance to save his skin. It was time to suck in his pride and grovel. "I didn't mean it, Professor. I swear. I'll apologise to Weasley as soon as he wakes up. I'm really sorry. Please, don't tell my father."

"Don't tell your father?" said McGonagall. "Should you not be a little more concerned that you could be expelled? Casting a Disanimus curse, and on a fellow student!"

Draco's face drained of what little colour it had left.

Professor Dumbledore studied him intently for a moment then said, "Thank you, Minerva. I shall deal with this myself and you can get back."

McGonagall seemed surprised at being dismissed but nodded and left them alone.

"Alone at last, Mr Malfoy. I don't doubt you have good reason for not wanting your father to hear about this. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

Draco wasn't sure what to say. On the one hand he knew Dumbledore had been one of the few people able to stand against Voldemort, on the other his father and their friends had always painted Dumbledore as an eccentric, old fool. He decided to stick close to what Dumbledore surely already knew given what had happened at the end of last year.

"You know who... what my father is," he began. "I'm sure... Potter must have told you that he saw him... that night. When..." he trailed off.

"We are to speak frankly then, Mr Malfoy. That is good. Yes, I know that your father is a Death Eater. Hence my lack of shock that you would be aware of and capable of using such a dangerous spell. What I do not understand is what you want. Why are you still here at Hogwarts, Mr Malfoy? And what is your interest in Harry Potter and his friends?"

"I... I don't know what you mean."

"I thought we were going to be frank, Mr Malfoy. I am not so old as to be going blind, I am quite aware that you have been attempting to befriend Harry and Hermione. What I do not know is why? I would also like to know why you are concerned about your father hearing what occurred today. I very much doubt he would shed any tears over the fate of young Ronald Weasley."

"I... I can't tell you. Please... you can punish me any way you want just don't tell my father and don't send me home. I can't go back there. I promise you, I'm not trying to hurt Harry... I didn't even mean to hurt Weasley. It just happened so fast."

Again Dumbledore studied him and it felt as though he were looking right into his soul. Finally he spoke. "There are things that you need to tell me Mr Malfoy... Draco. I don't expect you feel able to just yet but when you do I want to you to come to me. In the meantime I shall not inform your father of what occurred I shall, however, be confiscating your wand for the time being. However unintended your actions may have been the fact remains that you cast a very dangerous spell and I will not risk the safety of my other students until you learn to control yourself."

"But my classes!"

"Mr Malfoy! You will simply have to make do, I feel sure that you are talented enough not to let this hold you back. You will also receive a month of detention and apologise to Mr Weasley."

Draco nodded miserably.

"Mr Weasley will join you for one week of that detention once he has recovered and he too will apologise. He is far from innocent in this matter."

Draco's mood lightened a little at that.

"You may go now, Mr Malfoy. Dinner will be starting shortly."

Draco left gratefully and immediately went to his dormitory to write a letter to his father. Damage control against whatever might filter back home.

'Father,

I don't know if you heard but I had a run in with one of the Weasley boys today. Stupid git isn't reacting well to the fact I get on better with Potter than he does and he attacked me. I showed him though and didn't even get into that much trouble since Weasley started it. He won't try that again.

Things are going well as we discussed over the summer. I had a nice talk with Dumbledore after the Weasley incident and this may allow me to become more familiar with him. I know you feel I should spend more time talking to my teachers. I am also making new friends among my class mates, I often sit with Potter and his friend Granger... hence the Weasley incident.

I shall write with more news soon.

Your son,

Draco

PS. Tell mother I said thank you for the package.'

He sealed the letter and ran up to the Owlery to send it off before running down to dinner. Now all he had to do was convince Harry that what happened was Weasley's fault.

Unfortunately when he entered the Great Hall and glanced over to the Gryffindor's he could tell he had lost most of the headway he had made. Granger gave him a furious glare but Harry's look was more betrayed than anything.

------------------------
Friday 26th Sept

Draco spent a miserable morning. First he had Transfiguration which was completely impossible without a wand so he spent the hour at the back reading his text book while everyone else transfigured a piece of wood into a candle. Something that was considerably harder than it sounded since the wood had to not only look like a candle but burn like a candle.

Then he had Arithmancy, something that should have been fine but for the fact that it meant facing up to the wrath of Granger. She was waiting for him when he arrived and bore down before he could even enter the class.

"What did you do to him?" she hissed. "Madame Pomfrey said it was something awful. I know he started it but that's no excuse. I should've known better than to speak to you in the first place, Ron was right. He's worth ten of you! You cowardly, sneaky..."

It looked like Granger was carrying a heavy dose of guilt over what had happened. He held up his hand. "Enough, I get the picture."

"How dare you, I'll tell you when it's enough."

"Look, I'm sorry!" he stated.

"What?"

"You're right, there's no excuse. What I did was wrong and I'm sorry."

Hermione stared at him in surprise and he took advantage of the silence.

"I didn't mean to hurt him, it all just happened so fast. I did it without thinking."

"What did you do anyway, Madame Pomfrey wouldn't tell us." Hermione seemed a little shell shocked by his apology.

"I... I don't know if I should say. I don't think Dumbledore would want me to go around showing people that particular curse. I was lucky he didn't expel me."

"What did he do?"

"Confiscated my wand, gave me a month of detention." Draco shrugged. "Nothing I didn't deserve."

"Right," Hermione seemed to pull herself together a bit. "Right, well... just stay away from us then. I think that's for the best, don't you?"

"If that's what you want."

"It is." And with that she turned away and entered the classroom.

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Harry met Hermione outside the Great Hall after Double Divination, which had been even more boring alone than it was with Ron there.

"So, how was Arithmancy? What did Malfoy have to say for himself?"

"He said he was sorry!" said Hermione, as if it were the worst insult imaginable.

"Oh... well, that's good isn't it?"

"Good would be if Ron weren't lying unconscious in the hospital wing. Actions speak louder than words, Harry. We should all steer clear of Malfoy, he's bad news."

"Right," said Harry, meaning it and yet wishing things could have turned out differently. He felt... stupid. Stupid to have listened to what he had thought were his instincts but were most likely just his hormones, stupid to have believed he and Malfoy could ever be friends. He looked down at his potions book in his bag, he had spent last night reading up on Silencing Potions despite the events of the day before and his hand strayed to his pocket where he suddenly remembered he had tucked the note Malfoy had passed him. It was still there. He should burn it, along with those stupid leaflets that were still in his trunk. He'd do it later.

Alone at the Slytherin table Draco ate sparingly, one hand idly fingering the folded scrap of parchment in his pocket, as he contemplated the potion he had looked up last night. If he was caught it would be the end of everything... but if he didn't do it... if he couldn't get close to Harry Potter he was of no use to Voldemort here. It couldn't hurt Harry and the results would be subtle enough to go unnoticed. In a week or so the effects would have completely worn off. But it would give him an edge, a way in and right now he could see no other option. The fight with Weasley had completely thrown him off schedule and he couldn't risk the weeks or months it might take to win back Harry's trust. Granger would follow his lead if he could win back Harry.

He would decide this afternoon, in potions, and if need be steal the few ingredients he didn't have on hand.

He waited for Harry outside Snape's classroom and when he saw him coming down the corridor he went to meet him.

"Potter, can I talk to you for a minute."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Harry answered in a stilted tone.

"I only need a moment."

"What is it Malfoy? Come to apologise to me too? Hermione told me what you said to her and it doesn't change anything."

"Potter, I didn't..."

"Forget it, Malfoy. Just stay away from us. We're not your friends and we never will be."

With that Harry stormed into the classroom and left Draco alone outside. //Well, that's that,// he thought. //I'll make it tonight and slip it to him tomorrow... somehow.//

That night after dinner Draco shut himself in a storage room down in the dungeons and opened up his Advanced Potions for Mind Control & Alteration book. Something else Dumbledore would confiscate if he knew about. Luckily there was no wand required to do this. He folded down the page and ran down it before starting...

' Subtle Potion of Influence

This potion will subtly encourage the recipient to agree with your point of view (as expressed to them verbally within 24 hours of having administered the potion). It's effects last approximately 5-9 days (depending on the amount administered) with the strength weakening gradually so as to leave the recipient unaware that his mind has been affected. Depending on how much they were previously opposed to the beliefs pressed upon them they may or may not return to their previous mind set.

The potion requires a personal token from both parties involved. Possible items are a piece of hair or nail, a personal item which has spent a lot of time in physical contact with the party or the parties signature. For an especially strong result blood is recommended. The potion will have no effect when drunk by someone other than the parties with tokens included in the potion.'

Draco took a small scrap of parchment out of his pocket. On it was written...



'Snape sucks.

Thanks,

Harry'

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Saturday 27th Sept

The next morning Draco went up to breakfast with a small vial of light green liquid tucked into his pocket.

At the Slytherin table he studied the Gryffindors, wondering if maybe he should try again to get Harry to listen to him without the potion. For a start he had no idea ho he was going to get him to take it anyway. What was he supposed to do? Walk up to him and say, 'Hi Potter, I know you hate me but will you drink this.'

Just then there was a flurry of owls as the post arrived and his fathers favourite owl fluttered down to drop a parchment in his lap. He stared down at it and with slightly shaking hands opened it.

'Draco,

I received your letter. I hope you are correct that the Weasley boy will not interfere with your new friendships. Our business proceeds apace and I would be delighted to have you at home should things take a turn for the worse at school. There is much you could do here to assist me.

However should things go well inform me immediately, I have a task for you on behalf of our mutual friend.

Lucius Malfoy'

Draco folded the note and tucked it into his pocket next to the glass vial. Things were moving faster than he had thought, he would have to use the potion. His father had all but stated he would be recalled home if he couldn't get close to Potter soon. A task... well he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now he had to get Potter to drink his potion. As he watched the Gryffindor's pouring out glassfuls of pumpkin juice from a large jug he realised how he could do it. He just had to figure out where Potter was sitting at lunch then make sure the jug for that section of the table had his potion in it. It would have no effect on anyone else and he had made quite a lot so the dilution shouldn't be a problem.

----------------

Draco lurked in the corner of the Great Hall and watched the Gryffindors file in for lunch, as soon as he saw Harry sit down he disappeared into the dark corridor behind him and sprinted for the kitchen. He skidded to a halt in front of the still life and tickled the pear until it turned into a handle. He entered the kitchen and headed for the Gryffindor table where the food was almost done being laid out. Just as he got there he was waylaid by a house elf in unusual garb.

"Master Malfoy! What is you doing in here?" it asked suspiciously.

Draco frowned at the creature. It was wearing a tea cosy on it's head. "I just came down to see what was for lunch, thought maybe I could snag some direct. Not really in the mood for socialising today." He turned back to the Gryffindor table.

The creature actually grabbed his arm and tugged him back. "That is not your table, you should not be touching it."

Draco turned back angrily. "Get your hands off me you disgusting little creature."

Before he could do anything more a swarm of other house elfs descended on them, tugging the strange one away from him.

"We is very sorry, sir," grovelled one. "He is not knowing his place."

Draco eyed the struggling elf who was being drawn away, there was something about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "That's all right. I just wanted a little lunch in private."

"Of course, sir."

As the house elves bustled off to fetch him a tray he turned quickly to the Gryffindor table and leant over as if to sniff the food laid out there. He quickly tipped the potion into the large jug of pumpkin juice and then stood up again. A moment later the food vanished, transported up to the Great Hall, and the elves returned with a tray for him.

------------------

After lunch Draco caught Harry leaving the Great Hall.

"Potter, can I talk to you a moment. I really think you want to hear what I have to say."

"Come on, Harry. Ignore him," said Hermione, tugging him on.

Draco held his breath, had Harry drunk the juice?

"It's okay, Hermione. This'll just take a moment, I'll catch you up."

He breathed again, so far so good.

Harry followed him away from the crowd. "What is it, Malfoy? I'm in a hurry."

For a moment Draco hated himself for what he was about to do, but touching his hand to the pocket that held his fathers letter he gritted his teeth and spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened with Weasley, it was an accident. I didn't mean to hurt him." He searched Harry's face, looking for traces of evidence that the potion was working. He looked completely normal.

"I know it was an accident, you're not so stupid you would do something like that in front of an entire class and a teacher on purpose. But it still happened, Ron punched you and your gut reaction was to use some Dark Arts curse on him. How can I trust you after that? What happens next time one of us does something you don't like?"

Draco doggedly stuck to his planned phrases, "I'm your friend, Harry. You can trust me. You know you can."

"I... I guess so," for the first time Harry seemed momentarily confused. "I know I can trust you I was just... worried about what happened."

"Weasley started it, it was his fault. You shouldn't blame me."

"I... I know. You're right..."

As Draco's words went more against the grain of Harry's beliefs he noticed more of a glaze in his eyes, his words were more faltering. Draco suddenly felt slightly sick, in the back of his mind he could hear an echoing voice, 'Try out the Imperius curse first, it's bound to come in useful in the future.' With a faint voice he whispered, "You want us to be good friends, Harry. I want us to be friends too."

"Yes, we should be friends. There's no need for us to fight," Harry agreed more easily this time.

His face strained, Draco nodded. "I knew you'd understand," he said bitterly.

"Hermione's still mad at you though," said Harry, seeming to adjust to his newly created opinions. "And I don't think you'll've changed Ron's mind any."

Draco winced at Harry's turn of phrase. "You can talk Hermione round, if you explain she'll understand," he answered, his voice hollow.

"What about Ron?"

"I'll figure something out, he'll come around." After all he had done it to Harry, what did it matter now if he used the same trick on Weasley.

Harry nodded his agreement. Yes, Ron would come around. Of course he would. "I'm going up to the hospital ward and visit him just now, I could try and explain..."

"No! No, don't worry about it. Weasley has a right to be mad for a little while, it's probably best if you let it lie for now. Give him some time."

"Okay, you're right. Give him some time."

Draco felt his lunch churning in his stomach. "I have to go, I'll talk to you later."

"Talk to you later," Harry called after him and then set out for the hospital wing feeling a lot happier. Draco and he could still be friends, Ron hadn't ruined it after all.

Draco turned and fled to his dormitory where he threw up what little lunch he'd had. He spent the rest of the day there, lying on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He couldn't bear the thought of bumping into Harry again and hearing him parrot back his agreement with everything Draco said.

After several hours he rolled over and dug his knife and some towels out of his trunk then tied closed the silence charmed curtains on his bed. He hadn't done this since he had come back to school but tonight he could tell this feeling wasn't going to go away unless he did something about it. He took off his robes almost ceremonially, his hands only shaking slightly, and folded them out of the way. Then he laid out the old stained towel over his bedspread and sat on it, he twisted the second towel and stuffed it thickly between his teeth. Then with a slow draw of breath through his nose he studied the inside of his left thigh with a practiced eye. //A new scar,// he thought. //This deserves a new scar.// He laid the edge of his knife against an unmarked piece of skin and drew it down slowly, letting it cut in deep enough to leave a permanent mark. As he cut he bit down hard on the towel in his mouth, the only sound he emitted was a strangled groan. Blood ran down onto the folded towel under his leg. One inch, two, three... finally he drew the knife away and sat with his hands clenched watching the blood flow. His mind was completely clear, all he could feel was the burning pain in his leg. He let it wash over him until the blood began to clot then cleaned up clumsily and dropped into an exhausted sleep. Dreamless, he never dreamed when he cut himself before he slept.