Friendship, Loyalty, And Love

Friendship, Loyalty, and Love

Chapter 10:

The Calm Before the Storm

Draco watched as Finnigan lead the other three Gryffindors through the passage away from the dungeons. When the last of them had slipped out of view he turned to Harry. "Well," he said quietly, "if we're going to do this we'd better move now."

Harry nodded at him and Draco turned away, silently leading the other boy down to the end of the hall, opening the door at the end with another "Ouvir," and passing through it with barely a glance behind. From there he made his way through another hallway, a pair of doors, slipped past yet another passage-concealing tapestry and headed into a small sitting room.

"Where are we going?" Harry finally spoke up behind him, breaking the quiet.

Draco stopped and looked at the black-haired boy. "We're going to provide a distraction," he said.

"We're in a sitting room," Harry replied. "We haven't seen anyone at all and don't seem to be going anywhere, so exactly how distracting can we be?"

Draco sighed. He could tell that Harry still didn't trust him. It was annoying but he couldn't really blame the other boy for it. "I'm going to Lucius' study. He's probably taken the direct route to the dungeons from there so if we hurry we'll get there while he's out. He'll miss the others because they’ve gone in entirely the other direction and when he gets back to the study we'll be ready for him."

"Ah," said Harry quietly. "Ready for him to do what?"

"Haven't figured that part out yet," Draco admitted, "but it'll come to me."

The two of them set off again, walking abreast this time. As they made their way through a pair of servants corridors and another sitting room Draco kept getting the feeling that he was being watched but every time he looked around there was still no one. He couldn't imagine who it could be because he knew none of the servants would be there and there was no way his father could have gotten there.

The fourth time he felt it he caught a motion to his right as he glanced over. The flicker of motion and the slight swing of hair was enough to convince him that he knew who'd been watching him. "What is it Harry?" he asked.

Harry seemed to redden a touch as he met Draco's eyes. "Um," he finally said. "Well, I was just . . . I don't understand . . . "

"What?" Draco found Harry's lack of explanation baffling and obnoxious, although he had to admit that the blush looked kind of appealing on the normally serious boy.

"How can you be so angry at your father?" Harry finally spit out, blushing even harder. "I don't understand."

Draco was stunned, staring at him. "What do you mean?" he asked, a little louder than he'd meant to. "You know what he's like, I've told you . . . " and now it was Draco's turn to trail off.

"Yeah, but . . . but he's your father, Draco." Harry looked so earnestly confused, and he was so clearly missing the point.

"So what," Draco said bitterly. "So he gave me some genes. Doesn't mean anything. Not after what he's done since then."

"Draco," Harry began, but Draco cut him off.

"Look, Harry, you're not going to get this. You've idolized a pair of mythical parental figures who you've never known," Draco knew he was probably stepping over some line but it really wasn't a topic he was comfortable with. "Trust me, Lucius Malfoy as a father has absolutely no relation to whatever dream you've come up with of the 'perfect Potter parents'." As Harry's face began to cloud over Draco rushed ahead. "Do I have to go into detail Potter?" he asked harshly as his gray eyes flashed. "I've told you about the private cell in the dungeon but do you really want to know what went on down there?"

Harry paled, then composed himself. "Draco," he said, "I, I . . . no," he finally ended. "You . . . I, I trust you."

"What?" and Draco's anger left him in a rush. "What do you mean?" he asked, staring at the other boy.

"I mean I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hassled you. I know you've got reason to be here, to be helping me. And I trust you, really I do." Those bright green eyes of Harry's bore into him. "I trust you," he repeated, as though not entirely sure he'd said it right before.

"Oh," was all Draco could muster in reply, and he glanced down, breaking away from the powerful gaze.

"We ought to keep moving," Harry said after a few seconds, and Draco looked around the room, slowly remembering where they were.

"Right," he agreed. "Here, this way." They started off again, and this time it was Draco's turn to flash subtle glances at Harry.

***

"Come on," Seamus' quiet voice floated back to the three he was leading. "Coast's clear, but keep quiet."

The four of them snuck down the corridor glancing down all the halls they passed and tiptoeing past doors.

"Ron," Dean heard Hermione's low voice from where he walked behind the two of them. "Ron, I don't get it. Why was Draco here? Why is he helping Harry? Is Harry going to be safe with him facing Voldemort?"

Ron's replying voice was very tight. "I don't know. I don't understand why he trusts that foul little . . ."

"Shh!" Seamus came to a sudden stop in front of them while peering around the corner. He looked back and whispered furiously. "Look, we can talk about it once we're out of the damn building, but 'till then, shut up!"

Ron scowled but they both fell silent and the four of them continued on their way.

After a few more turns, some long corridors, and one confused detour through a parlor, they finally found themselves back at the entrance to the secret tunnel.

"Damn," Seamus' muffled curse snapped all of their attentions to the Irish boy.

"What?" Dean asked, moving close to the dull-appearing wall.

"Draco didn't tell us how to open the damned passage."

Dean looked at Seamus, his eyes widening in horror.

"Damn!" Ron agreed, momentarily forgetting Seamus' injunctions against noise and earning himself a round of shushings.

"What's that word Draco was using to open all the other doors?" Dean asked.

"Um," Seamus reached out and placed his hand on the wall where he knew the entrance to be. "Ouvir!" he whispered, but nothing happened. He scowled at the wall and said, "It must be a blood spell, like the one on the outer wall."

"Well, there's got to be a way to make it open," Hermione said, trying to sound more practical than shaken. "Here, lend me . . ." and without finishing her sentence she plucked Ron's wand out of his hand. "Alohamora!" she started. "Offnung! Expedio!"

Seamus joined in. "Effugio! Huir!" Nothing happened and both of them began spitting out spells more quickly, frequently overlapping.

"Liberar!"

"Open Sesame!"

"Abscondo Ianus!"

"Weggang!"

"

Try French, that's what Ouvir is." Dean's quick interruption gave them pause, and they quickly continued, but now their two voices did overlap.

"Secret Sortie!" Seamus called.

Hermione's comand, "Couloir sans danger!" combined with it.

But the only thing Dean could hear was "Secret Couloir," and silently the wall slid sideways, revealing the passage they sought.

"Oh, good," Seamus sounded a little stunned at the sudden release. "Well then . . ." and he trailed off, looking at Hermione.

"Let's go," Ron glanced at Dean who nodded and they headed down the steps which had been revealed while the other's followed afterward.

***

At last Draco turned out of the small passageway they'd been following and headed down a large corridor, knowing that at the end of it was his father's study. He was quiet, still mulling over the implications of Harry's last statement, of the fact that Harry trusted him. He wasn't at all sure what it was he'd done to earn the other boy's trust, especially not after all of the shit he'd put him through during their younger years.

He thought back over all of the incidents of the past, finally pausing on the horrible confrontation on the Hogwarts Express last year. He slowed his pace and then stopped, thinking. After a few seconds he turned and fixed the black haired boy with a questioning stare. "Harry?" he said.

"Yes?" Harry looked straight back at him, green eyes open wide.

"Um," Draco stalled out, then glanced quickly around. "We're here," he finally said.

"Oh." And at that Draco turned and placed his hand on the doorknob to his father's study, which he had stopped in front of. "Jetzt, als ich ein Malfoy bin, muessen Sie oeffnung," he intoned slowly.

Silently the study door swung inward, revealing Lucius Malfoy's private study and the two boys passed silently through.

Draco had been in this room fairly often when he was younger and was used to it, but now, watching Harry look around in something approaching awe he couldn't help but try and see it as Harry must.

The mahogany desk was longer than Weasley was tall, and certainly must have cost more than Weasleys' entire home, with its ebony inlay and gold drawer knobs. The wide windows were shaded with heavy, dark velvet curtains and the chairs were all upholstered in matching dark leather. Everywhere there were books, on the shelves on the wall, laying on the desk, sitting on the small reading tables, and many of them were clearly very old and valuable while most of them looked quite ominous. On one wall there was a large fireplace, the mantle bearing several lovely and delicate heirlooms as well as a set of silver candlesticks with candles in them, the candles being notable for their deep brown shade, the color of dried blood.

Looking around at this obvious show of everything his father stood for Draco realized he needed to go forward with the question he'd balked at asking in the hall. If he was going to go through with turning away from all this he needed to know what he was turning to.

"Harry," he started again, and once again those deep green eyes pierced into him. "Harry, what happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament? What happened to Diggory, and to you?"

Harry inhaled quietly, his gaze fixed on the blonde, apparently searching his soul, and Draco knew he couldn't leave it at that.

"Please Harry," he continued. "I need to know what happened, what they . . . what he did. I know he was there, but he didn't tell me anything. What did they do?"

Draco trailed off, knowing he couldn't make Harry say anything but desperately hoping that he would, hoping that desire to know would show in his eyes as Harry stared at him. Finally, after what felt like hours but couldn't even have been a minute, Harry nodded and began to speak.

"Barty Crouch Jr. had enchanted the Tri-Wizard cup," he began without preamble. "He turned it into a portkey and set it to take whoever touched it to the graveyard where Voldemort's father was buried. He'd gone to great lengths to try and assure that I would be the first to reach the cup, would be the one to win. He almost succeeded too . . . god, if only he had." Harry broke off for a second, then composed himself, looking up at Draco before he continued.

"Cedric and I helped each other with the last obstacle in the course. He wouldn't have made it through with out my help, but I was hurt, my leg was twisted when I intervened. I told him to take it . . . I'd been hurt, couldn't make it to the cup before him so he'd won, but he had too much honor. He said he wouldn't have gotten past the spider if not for me and insisted I take it. We decided . . . we agreed . . ." Harry paused, inhaling and turning away from Draco, staring at the floor.

"We both took the cup together, we thought it'd be a tie for the two Hogwarts champions. And then the portkey kicked in. It dropped us into the cemetery, and we saw Wormtail coming toward us - he had Voldemort . . . it hurt so much - and, I heard him." Harry started shaking a little, trembling all over. "I heard Voldemort. His voice came out of the darkness, 'K . . . Kill the spare!' Then Wormtail . . . God. Wormtail killed Cedric. There was nothing I could do." This time when Harry stopped looked like he couldn't continue, like he might never stop shaking, but when Draco stepped across the room and rested his hand on the other boy's forearm Harry looked up at him and for a second he seemed to relax.

"They tied me to a tombstone, and Wormtail did a spell, a potion really. He used Voldemort's father's bones, and his own flesh - he cut off his own hand - and he cut me, stole my blood to give Voldemort his body back. It was horrible . . . I just wanted him to drown in that cauldron, for it all to end. But it didn't, it didn't. He rose and stepped forward, and he pressed his finger to the tattoo on Wormtail's arm, summoning the Death Eaters.

"They came. They came and they crawled to him, scraping their way across the ground. And he spoke to them. He named some of them aloud." Harry had seemed to have gone into something of a trance as he told his story, no longer looking around, his eyes had slid down to where Draco held onto him, but now he looked up, meeting Draco's gray gaze. "He named your father, and your father claimed to have been waiting for him, swore to be faithful."

Draco's heart lurched. All of this was so much to take in, and yet he still felt he had to know what his family was involved in, what he had almost become.

"Finally they remembered me, bleeding and tied to the grave. Voldemort released me and challenged me to a Wizard's duel."

Draco gasped at this, remembering his own duels with Harry.

"We fought, and somehow our wands . . . our wands interfered with each other. They're made from the same substance and are brothers somehow. They disrupted each other, and I saw reflections of all of the spells he had cast with his wand. I . . ." and Harry's voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper. "I saw my mother and father. They, they distracted him, allowed me to escape, allowed me to get away, back to Hogwarts and Dumbledore . . . "

Harry looked so torn up, his eyes full of unshed tears and pain that Draco really couldn't help himself. He went with his instincts, reaching out his other arm to pull Harry into an embrace, trying to comfort the black haired boy, and he felt Harry relax, sliding his arms around Draco and holding him back, just as tightly. They stood so, reveling in the feeling of being held by the friend they had never allowed themselves to have.

But soon they both pulled away and Draco looked out from his gray eyes with a new resolution in his heart. "Right," he said, stepping back, although his arms were loath to release the warmth that was Harry. "It's distraction time."

Harry nodded, and when Draco told him to collect books from off the tables and toss them into the fireplace he did so without question.

***

As the four Gryffindors made their way quickly through the long tunnel and out to the grounds they held a hushed conversation.

"I don't understand why Draco was here," Hermione said.

"He . . ." Seamus started but Ron interrupted him.

"Now you're calling him Draco too?" he asked. "That's what I don't understand. Malfoy's a complete bastard and everybody's just taken him into their hearts."

"Come off it Ron," Dean snarled. "He's risking his life just as much as we are, more even since this is his family and who knows what they can do to him."

"Exactly," Ron spat. "It's his family, why the hell should he be helping us?"

"Because he knows that what they're doing is wrong," Seamus put in, scowling at the redhead.

"Took the little ferret long enough to figure it out, didn't it?"

"How did this start?" Hermione cut into their argument. "I can't imagine he just waltzed up and said 'Hey guys, planing to bust the mudblood out? Want some help?'"

Seamus grinned, partly at the face Hermione was making, but also because for once he and Dean knew something about Harry that the other two didn't. "It started after the first attack, when Justin was hurt," he said. "When Dean and I ran out to see him we found Draco," Ron snorted at Seamus' use of the blonde's first name. "We found Draco in a classroom, curled up on a desk and looking like he was going to cry. Harry found the three of us there and he and Malfoy, Draco, ended up talking later that night."

Dean took up the story there. "They met a few other times before everything blew up and Draco showed Harry a letter from his father. Apparently Lucius Malfoy is a truly evil bastard whose relationship with his son is really fucked up."

Ron snorted, muttering, "I could have told you about the evil bit," but Hermione shushed him and Dean continued.

"Since then they're not enemies anymore. Their relationship has, um, changed. . . " Dean trailed off and Seamus shot the other boy a glance, wondering if the black boy had been picking up on the same things going on between Harry and Draco that he had.

"Oh," said Hermione, and odd look in her eyes as she glanced back and forth between Dean and Seamus, then shot a look back down the hall behind them.

"Oh?" Ron asked, sounding annoyed. "What do you mean 'Oh'? I still don't understand why Harry's willing to trust that -"

"Look," Seamus cut him off. "Do you trust Harry?" The Irish boy's voice was hard as he stared at his roommate, and when Ron nodded he went on. "Well then, you're just going to have to trust his judgement, as well as him. He thinks having Draco's help is a good thing, and that the two of them can distract Malfoy the Elder long enough for us to get away. He's your friend, so let him do what he has to do, the way he has to do it."

Seamus was about to add more but didn't get the chance as Dean grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop and signaling the others to stop as well. "We're here," he said simply, gesturing to the stairs which could be seen ahead of them by the light of their wands. "When we get out there, run straight for the exit. If they spot us, if they catch us . . . " he let his words trail off.

Ron nodded, dropping the subject and concentrating on the task ahead of them and Hermione reached out and clasped his hand, gazing up the stairs.

"Ron," Seamus said, "you go first. Take Hermione and get out of here." He looked up into Dean's eyes. "We'll run back up," he said, although his voice held a tone of questioning.

Dean nodded, and the two of them watched as Ron led Hermione up the stairs, pausing at the top to lift open the trapdoor. Seamus saw the others' feet climb up out of the tunnel and felt Dean release the arm Seamus had forgotten he was holding as the black boy moved toward the steps.

"Dean," he called out, halting the other boy.

"Yes?" Dean turned ever so slightly and started to look back, so he was slightly off balance when Seamus launched himself at the taller boy. Seamus wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, shaking a little bit and thinking he would never let go.

"It'll be ok, won't it?" the Irish boy whispered, hating the slight tremble to his voice. "Harry, us . . . it'll be ok, right?"

"Of course," Dean said, and he pulled the smaller boy into a deep kiss as though trying to prove it. But Seamus suspected Dean was seeking to reassure himself just as much. In seconds they had broken from each other and, grabbing each other's hands, they pelted up the stairs and into the dark night where their friends were waiting for them.

***

"Draco?" Harry's voice was startling after the amount of time they'd spent gathering books in silence. They had a fairly large pile laying in the cold fire place and Draco was standing on one of the cabinets, reaching for books on the top shelf.

"Yes?" the blond turned, dropping his gray eyes to where the Gryffindor was looking up at him from the floor.

"I assume you have a plan for all these books?" Harry gestured to the other side of the room without moving his gaze.

"Yes, of course," was all Draco said as he went back to reaching for the shelf, aware that Harry had yet to look away from him.

"Well?"

Draco was silent as he felt his fingers close on a heavy tome. He pulled it out from the shelf and the weight of it was almost enough to knock him off of the cabinet. It looked like a slim, or at least relatively slim, volume, but felt as though time and the dark souls that had used it over the years were pulling down on it.

"Found it," the low whisper slipped from Draco's lips as he gazed down at the book. Summoning and Reviving, Banishing and Destroying: A Treatise on Daemons and the Undead.

Quickly the Slytherin turned, but the rash motion was enough to unbalance him slightly. He managed to catch himself before he fell but the book dropped down onto the ground at Harry's feet where the green eyes rested on the page it had opened to.

" . . . blood spells being the most powerful," Harry began reading aloud. "And of these, blood of the fallen one being used to retie the fled soul. And when such blood be not available, blood being freely given by one loving of the passed one. And such blood also being not available, blood taken from one hating of the dead." Harry broke off, kneeling swiftly down as Draco scrambled off the cabinet to look over his shoulder.

"Flesh, blood, and bone being largely similar and of little difference, being it then possible to combine all such things to a soul which is not fled, then might it be conceivable a destroyed body to recreate? The answer seeming to be yes, the question of this treatise then turns to the destruction thereof. A creature so raised, differing greatly from the reawakened corpse, offers unto those that would stop it many more difficulties.

"Being as the new body, having composite parts taken from or given by others, now possesses qualities like unto that other or those others. Should it be in fact others, plural, and should the creator having had forethought into it's creation, the new creature, for the reembodied one mayn't be thought to be the same as it were before, may posses protections not normal but rather particular to itself." Harry looked over his shoulder at Draco. "Draco, this sounds like . . . it sounds like the spell that Voldemort used . . ."

"Yes," the blond said, leaning in for a better look at the page and then picking up the recitation at a different spot. "Such being so, banishing is oft thought to be the swiftest, if least efficacious or permanent method of removal. Banishing being well covered elsewhere in this text we move on to proper, complete, and full destruction, as had one not constructed the creature oneself, or in many cases even if one had, destruction is like to be high on a list of priorities. The best method, luckily for those wishing to destroy this unique undead creature and unluckily for those to whom it's creation is useful, is by and large very simple. All it requires is that the donors, unwilling and otherwise, seeking fully this selfsame destruction, call forth . . . "

"Call forth what?" Harry asked, blinking at the sudden stop and glancing back at the book.

"I don't know. The rest of the page has been removed." Draco reached over Harry's shoulder to finger the ragged rip in the parchment. "I guess somebody doesn't want us to know how to get rid of him."

Harry gave a little sigh of what sounded like dismay mixed with despair, then started as the other boy suddenly snapped the book shut and picked it up off the floor.

"Come on then, on with the plan." The Slytherin strode over and tossed this last book onto the fireplace, then pulled out his wand.

"What is the plan?" Harry asked, sounding a little annoyed.

"We're creating a distraction, right?" Draco didn't wait for Harry to answer, simply carried on explaining. "Well, this is certain to get Lucius' attention." And with that the blond pointed his wand at the pile and muttered, "Incendio!"

The books burst into flame and Harry gasped as a horrible wailing started echoing through the room. "What?" he cried, looking around.

"The books are warded against harm and larceny," Draco explained. "For some reason father dearest didn't want people walking off with or destroying his precious materials."

"So now we do what exactly?"

"We wait?"

"We what?" Harry looked truly incredulous. "You mean we're just going to sit here and wait for your father to come kill us?"

"It will be distracting," and Draco found he couldn't help himself. He grinned, both at the faint look of horror on the other boy's face and at what he imagined his father would look like when he discovered his son and his enemy, calmly waiting for him while his library burned.

"I don't think I can take this," Harry said, going to sit in one of the chairs facing the fire. "You've gone mad, haven't you?"

"No," Draco denied this. "I'm just . . . I just want the chance to strike back, even if it's just the once."

"Ah," Harry leveled an inscrutable gaze at the blond. "Well, to coin a phrase, if the wait doesn't kill you then Lucius Malfoy will."

"Don't worry," Draco said. "I don't think we're going to have a very long wait."

Harry cocked his head at this and Draco saw his eyes widen as the Gryffindor heard what had prompted the blonde's comment. Down the hall they could both hear the rapidly approaching pounding of feet, and as one they both turned toward the door, readying their wands.

***

The four Gryffindors pounded across the grounds of the manor, putting more and more space between them and their enemies, but knowing in their hearts that it might not be enough.

"The drive is over that way! Come on!" Ron shouted, grabbing his girlfriend's hand and tugging her in the indicated direction.

Unfortunately this unexpected pull unbalanced Hermione and she miss-stepped, stumbling a little and falling to the ground. The others stopped to help her up and that's when they heard the footsteps behind them. Dean spun around and gave a little gasp.

"Damn!" he hissed. "They've found us." He looked back to where Ron and Seamus had gotten Hermione back to her feet and were staring at the oncoming pursuit. "Go on," he said quickly. "Run! Get Hermione out, stay safe."

The black boy drew his wand and took up a stance facing the two Death Eaters who were chasing them and heard a muttered "Get going," from Seamus. Dean felt rather than saw his boyfriend come to stand next to him, also readying his wand.

"Seamus," Dean began, "hurry up, get out of here. Go on, I'll take care of . . . " But Seamus cut him off.

"No way. You're going to need help on this one."

"I'll be fine, but I need to know you're safe . . . so get moving."

"Nope," Seamus' response was short and to the point, but Dean wasn't having any of it.

"Look Seamus, this is going to be difficult and I don't want you to get hurt." Dean knew he sounded a little inane but in the moonlight he could see the cloaked men getting closer and closer and he couldn't help himself.

"I'm not leaving you!" Seamus said emphatically. "It's going to be difficult and I'm going to help."

"Seamus, please, I . . . I need you to be safe, I need to know you're going to get out of here. Seamus . . . " Dean paused, but charged on, knowing the danger was increasing and knowing it needed to be said. "Seamus, I love you!"

Seamus just snorted. "No deal," he said.

"What?" Dean was nonplussed.

"Look Dean," Seamus sounded annoyed now. "You've got really rotten timing, you know that? You could have said so anytime this past week, but now you do it to try and get me to run off so you can die heroically. I love you too, but I'm not going to let you do that. I am no man's grieving lover Dean Thomas."

"But . . ."

"No buts," Seamus cut him off. "You're just going to have to live through this with me. Then we'll talk." And the Irish boy wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed him again, stealing his breath. "Well?" Seamus asked when he released Dean.

"Oh," was all that he could manage.

Seamus grinned. "Besides," he added, "I don't intend to leave you later, so why should I start now?"

Dean finally gave in and hugged the smaller boy tightly, imprinting the feel of Seamus in his arms onto his memory. "Alright then," he said, releasing Seamus. "If that's the way it's going to be . . . "

"It is," Seamus interrupted.

"Then let's do this." And the two of them turned and faced their oncoming foes, preparing them selves as the Death Eaters reached the edge of their spell range.

***

End Note: On the spells: Offnung is German for 'to open'. Expedio is Latin for 'to release, set free'. Effugio is Latin for 'escape, flee from' and Huir is 'to flee' in Spanish.

Liberar means to release in Spanish, Abscondo Ianus is secret passage in Latin, Weggang is a varriation on 'go away' in German. Couloir sans danger means 'safe passage', Secret Sortie means 'secret exit', and Secret Couloir is Secret Passage, all in French.

Jetzt, als ich ein Malfoy bin, muessen Sie oeffnung

, translates to "Now, since I am a Malfoy, you must open," and is German.