Voldemort’s Heir
Chapter Ten
Ron yawned, stretching his arms above his head before once more curling up to Hermione’s back. He felt her shift as he draped his arm over her.
“You awake?” he whispered.
“No,” she whispered back.
He smiled. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “But I think we should be getting back.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I just have a bad feeling.”
Ron raised an eyebrow. “Usually it’s Harry that gets the bad feelings.”
“I know,” Hermione said, turning to look up at him. “I just. . .this time I know something’s wrong.”
He nodded. “We’ve been gone long enough as it is,” he said. “They’re probably looking for us.”
“Thank you, Ron,” Hermione said, sitting up. She cupped his face and gently kissed his lips. “Lunch. . .and everything. . .was wonderful.”
He blushed. “You’re welcome, Hermione.”
“I. . .love you,” she said softly.
He looked startled. “I love you too, Hermione.”
She smiled, gave him another kiss, then slipped out of bed. “C’mon, get dressed.”
Ron sighed, pushing aside the covers. “Back to work.”
******
Draco sat beside the couch in Dumbledore’s office, gazing at Harry’s unconscious form. They were alone in the office, Isabene having dragged Sirius away to tend to his assorted aches and pains and Dumbledore going down to the dungeons to supervise Eric’s training.
Draco sighed, slumping back in his seat. He still couldn’t believe, even after little over four years, he was romantically involved with Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. . .who had once been Draco’s most hated enemy.
It was actually quite by accident that they’d ended up together. It had been during their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. They’d been in the Charms corridor, in the midst of a heated argument. Draco couldn’t remember exactly what they’d been fighting about, but he distinctively recalled being shoved into a nearby broom closet and locked in by the resident poltergeist, Peeves. According to Peeves, the reason they’d been locked in the closet was because they’d been making so much noise, he couldn’t think clear enough to plan his practical jokes.
Disgusted and annoyed, Draco had reached into his robes to pull out his wand, intending to cast a spell to unlock the door. Much to his chagrin, Peeves had managed to swipe the wand before pushing the two into the closet.
Harry had been amused. . .until he’d discovered his wand had been taken as well.
“Great, now what?” he’d muttered.
Draco’s response had been to snort. “What, the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived doesn’t know what to do? I thought you had all the answers.”
He’d expected some kind of immediate response from Harry, but as the seconds slowly turned into minutes of nothing but silence, he had begun to fidget nervously. His eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the darkness, and he’d been unable to see Harry.
“Why don’t you like me?”
After so many minutes of silence, the softly spoken words startled Draco, causing him to jump. Immediately afterwards, he felt silly for letting the sound of the other boy’s voice scare him.
“What do you think?” he’d snapped.
“I’ve never done anything to you,” Harry had replied. “Ever since I came to Hogwarts-”
“The attention has all been you!” Draco had interrupted. He’d lowered his head, ashamed at his outburst.
There had been a few moments of silence, in which Draco’s eyes finally adjusted to the darkness enough that he was able to see the outline of Harry.
“You’re. . .jealous of me?” Harry’s voice had sounded surprised.
Draco had sighed, letting his shoulders slump. “That first year, all summer long, all we heard about was how the famous Harry Potter was finally coming to Hogwarts. Everywhere we went, your name was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. They were all so excited.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry had said. “No, actually, I’m not. You can’t hate me for something that was out of my control. Try being in my shoes, not even knowing why all these strangers know your name. I had no idea why I was famous until Hagrid told me. I was clueless. And how do you think it felt to be the only first year student who didn’t have a clue about magic?”
“Which is another reason why it was so easy to hate you!” Draco had snapped. “Here you were, a backwards Muggle-raised wizard who couldn’t even perform the most basic spell and yet there were people fawning all over you like you were a big deal. So what that you had managed to survive the deadliest of curses? You were a pathetic excuse for a wizard.”
“Because I hadn’t grown up around magic like all of you did!” Harry had argued.
“Oh yes, raised by Muggles,” Draco had responded. “And yet, despite it all, you were everyone’s golden boy.”
“Except Snape,” Harry had said. “As I recall, you were--and still are--his personal favorite.”
Draco had ignored the comment. “Not to mention I offered you my friendship and you rejected it, choosing that idiot Ron Weasley instead.”
“Because you were being a jerk!” Harry had snapped. “’You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort.’” He rolled his eyes. “You were a bloody snob, Draco. It isn’t the wizard’s bloodline that’s important; it’s what’s inside.”
Draco had made a face. “Mudbloods have no place here in Hogwarts. Only purebloods do.”
Harry had snorted. “In this day and age, it’s hard to find a pureblood. There’s much intermixing of blood.”
“Which is why the wizard community is weakened!” Draco had protested. “Witches and wizards aren’t as strong as they used to be because the magic is diluted!”
“Has it ever occurred to you that Voldemort is a hypocrite?” Harry had snapped.
At Draco’s silence, he smirked. “What, you didn’t know? His father is a Muggle, making him a Mudblood. What does that say about a man would turn against his own father just because he isn’t magical and set out on a quest to persecute him and his kind?”
More silence had followed, and Harry couldn’t resist taunting his enemy. “What, the great Draco Malfoy, speechless?”
Silence had descended upon them again as Harry slid down the wall until he was seated on the floor.
With no means of knowing how much time had passed since they’d been locked in, it seemed to Draco they’d been trapped for an eternity.
“You think somebody would have missed us by now,” he’d grumbled.
Harry had rolled his eyes. “Hogwarts is a large place, with many hideaways. It might take them a while to find us.”
Draco had snorted. “Obviously you’ve never heard of a finding spell.”
“Hogwarts is guarded from them,” Harry had responded.
“Not if Dumbledore is the one casting them,” Draco had argued.
They sat in uncomfortable silence until Harry had spoken. “Look, Malfoy, we might be here a while and I don’t feel like fighting with you until we’re rescued. . .so let’s just get some sleep.”
“Fine,” Draco had grumbled.
It had seemed as if he had just shut his eyes moments ago when Draco was awakened by a panicked cry from somewhere across from him. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking. Disoriented, he tried to remember where he was and why he was lying on a cold floor. Then he remembered Peeves and being locked in the broom closet.
If he was still in the closet, which he assumed from the cold floor beneath him, that meant the panicked cry he’d heard belonged to Harry.
“Potter, what the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped groggily, pushing himself up onto one elbow. He cursed Peeves for taking his wand. He’d give anything for some light to see what was the matter with Harry.
“I swear. . .I didn’t do it. . .” Harry was saying. “Please let me out. Please. . .I’m sorry, Uncle Vernon.”
Draco frowned. “Uncle Vernon? Who. . .?” He muttered under his breath as he stretched his leg out, searching for Harry. When his foot brushed something solid, he reared back and kicked the object.
Harry yelped. “Huh? W-where am I?”
“Still in the broom closet with me, you dolt,” Draco had snapped.
“Oh. . .” had been Harry’s quiet reply.
“And what the hell was all that screaming about anyway?” Draco grumbled. “You interrupted my beauty sleep.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t be jealous of me,” Harry said in a quiet voice. “I thought I was back in the cupboard under the stairs.”
Even though Harry couldn’t see it because of the darkness of the closet, Draco’s face screwed up into an expression of disgust.
“Cupboard under the stairs?” he repeated.
“That is where I lived for the first eleven years of my life,” Harry replied. “In a cupboard under the stairs at the little house at 4 Privet Drive.”
“You’re kidding,” Draco said. “Who lives in a cupboard?”
“The Boy Who Lived,” Harry said sadly. “Or, in the Dursleys’ point of view. . .the Boy They Didn’t Want. The Boy They Didn’t Want to Recognize as Being Around. I was different, so they chose to ignore me.”
“That’s horrid,” Draco said.
“That’s what I have to deal with every time I go home,” Harry said. “Why do you think I stay at school as much as I can?”
“I. . .uh. . .never gave it much thought,” Draco responded.
“So, you see, Draco, you have no reason to hate me,” Harry said. “You have no reason to be jealous of me. On the other hand, I, the boy who has had nothing, have every reason to despise you, the boy who has everything.”
Draco was stunned. So stunned that he couldn’t think of anything to say. For yet a second time since they’d been locked in the closet, he was speechless.
“Harry, I’ve never hated you,” he said once he finally regained control over his voice. “Well, maybe a little in the beginning, but then it became something else.”
“Wha-what are you talking about, Malfoy?” Harry asked, sounding very confused.
There was a long moment of silence, and then Draco very quietly said, “Well. . .um, you see, it’s kind of like this. . .I. . .I have feelings for you.”
And in the darkness, Harry’s mouth fell open.
“I’m sorry, I must have wax in my ears,” he said when he finally regained control over his voice. “I thought I just heard you say you had feelings for me.”
“Yes, feelings, Potter, is that a problem?” Draco snapped.
“Well. . .coming from you, it’s certainly unexpected,” Harry responded. “I mean. . .we’re supposed to be mortal enemies.”
“Didn’t I just tell you I don’t hate you!” Draco hissed.
“You said that you hated me in the beginning but it became something else,” Harry clarified.
“Yes. . .almost a ‘I hate you but why can’t I stop thinking about you?’ kind of something,” Draco snapped. “I knew I never should have confessed this to you. It was completely stupid. I should have just kept my mouth shut.”
“Well excuse me for being just a little bit thrown about this!” Harry growled. “No, not a little. . .A LOT! You’re bloody DRACO MALFOY! I mean, you’re supposed to be my worst enemy and hate my guts and now you confess that noooooooooooooooo, you don’t hate me, you’ve got bloody feelings for me!”
He took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “You have to be joking. This is some kind of sick, twisted joke, isn’t it?”
“No,” Draco said quietly. “That’s why I’ve never told anyone. I knew they’d think I’m crazy. And I shouldn’t have told you.”
Harry took a moment to turn this over in his head. “You’re. . .not. . .joking.”
“For the last time, no!” Draco snapped.
“Oh hell,” Harry muttered, rubbing his forehead.
He frowned, hearing faint sounds of clothes rustling, which indicated that Draco was moving. He hadn’t been sure what the other boy was doing, so he’d been taken completely by surprise at the feel of cold lips pressing tentatively against his. He almost responded to the kiss until it registered that it was Draco was kissing him.
“What are you doing?!” he mumbled against Draco’s lips.
Draco reluctantly pulled back. “Sorry, I-”
Before he could continue, Harry had leaned forward, capturing Draco’s lips with enough zeal to send them falling back against the other side of the closet. “Whoa, gentle,” Draco admonished into Harry’s mouth as his head bumped against the wall.
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled sheepishly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Just kiss me again,” Draco ordered.
******
That had been four years ago, and Draco hadn’t regretted a moment of it. Well, he did regret not being able to tell his father, but as the elder Malfoy had demonstrated, he wouldn’t have taken it well.
He still couldn’t get over the fact that his father had lied to him about being a minion of Voldemort. He couldn’t believe he’d been naive enough to believe his father when he’d told him that he was just a spy.
“How could I be so stupid?” Draco muttered, glancing down at Harry’s limp form. “Why didn’t I listen to you?”
Harry moaned softly, turning his head to one side. Draco licked his lips, holding his breath in anticipation. He nearly cheered as Harry’s eyes slowly fluttered and then opened.
“Harry!” he cried joyfully.
“Wh. . .where are we?” Harry said sluggishly. “Wha’ ‘appened?”
“You got yourself Crucioed by my father, that’s what!” Draco couldn’t help but shout. “What the hell did you think you were doing, Harry?”
“Rescuing you,” Harry said, wincing as he tried to sit up. “Doesn’t look like I did such a good job.”
“No, you didn’t,” Draco responded. “I ended up having to rescue you!”
“Draco, couldn’t we postpone the lecture until a time when my head isn’t spinning and I’m not seeing two of you?” Harry muttered.
“Harry!” Hermione’s voice cried from the spiraling staircase.
Harry groaned. “Oh no.”
“Harry Alexander Potter, I have never seen you pull such a stupid stunt as what you did today!” Hermione said as she stalked into the room. Ron followed behind her, sheepishly shrugging at Harry.
“Hello, Hermione,” Harry said dryly. “How’d the date go?”
He was rewarded with a blush creeping up Hermione’s face, but then she shook her head. “No! You’re not going to get me sidetracked, Harry Potter! What did you think you were doing, traipsing off to Malfoy’s mansion without backup!”
Harry shrugged, then winced in pain. “Malfoy told me to come alone.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “And do you always do what you’re told?”
“I was worried about Draco!” Harry snapped. “Besides, what would you or even Ron have done in my position?”
Ron averted his eyes, looking everywhere but at Harry, while Hermione opened her mouth to say something, only to immediately close it. She repeated the motion a few times before finally closing her mouth and dropping her gaze.
Draco laughed. “It’s about bloody time,” he said. “Too bad I lost that bet.”
Hermione’s head came up, her eyes flashing. “What bet?”
“Um. . .” Draco shot a look at Harry, raising his eyebrows.
“Well,” Harry said slowly. “You see, Hermione, Draco and I made a little bet about how long it would take you two to get together.”
Hermione’s face turned bright red. “You made a bet on how long it would be before Ron and I got together?!” She grabbed a pillow from the couch and bopped Harry upside the head with it.
“Ow!” Harry said, laughing. “Hey, injured man here!”
“Serves you right,” Hermione grumbled, dropping the pillow and crossing her arms over her chest.
Draco’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Should I tell her the rest?” he said, posing the question to Harry.
Harry’s mouth dropped open. “No! Don’t you dare! She might hit me with more than a pillow!”
Hermione’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “There’s more?!” she shrieked.
The mischievous sparkle in Draco’s eyes grew as his grin widened. “Well, you see, back when we were all still in school, a pool was started in the Gryffindor common room. It’s grown to be quite a massive pool, I’m told.”
Hermione’s face turned as red as Ron’s hair and Harry hastily pulled Draco down onto the couch so that he was shielded by the former Slytherin.
Ron, for his part, was just staring in shock at Harry. “So, um, who’s the winner of the pool?” he finally asked.
“Ron!” Hermione cried, looking as though she was calculating the appropriateness of murdering Harry.
“Um, well. . .” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck.. “Neville, actually.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Neville Longbottom?!”
Ron looked surprised. “You’re kidding, Neville?”
Harry nodded.
Hermione shook her head. “We’re totally off the subject,” she insisted.
Draco had an amused expression on his face. “Yes, what were we talking about?”
“Harry and how irresponsible it was for him to run off to rescue you without even letting us know what was going on,” Hermione said.
Harry shrugged. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Hermione coughed as Ron’s face turned red. “Y-you wouldn’t have disturbed us,” she insisted.
Harry cocked one eyebrow upward. “Suuuuuuuuuuure.”
Hermione was about to respond when the door opened and Dumbledore entered. Raising his eyebrows, he regarded Hermione and Ron with a look, before focusing his attention on Harry.
“Ah, young Potter, I see you have reawakened,” the wizened wizard said as he made his way to his desk.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, nodding. He attempted to rise to his feet, but was pushed back down onto the couch by Draco, who narrowed his eyes, ordering him to remain seated.
“Where’s Fyril?” Hermione asked.
“He in the dungeon, training with Professor Scott,” Dumbledore responded. “Which brings us to the main issue--helping him rescue his wife.”
“What can we do?” Ron asked. “I mean, Harry’s been trying to get rid of You-Know-Who for years and hasn’t succeeded.”
“I believe a diversion might be just the thing,” Dumbledore said. “Something to distract Voldemort long enough for Fyril to rescue his wife.”
“But what?” Ron asked.
“If you put your heads together long enough, I have no doubt you will find an answer,” Dumbledore said.
The four exchanged glances, Draco’s eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.
Dumbledore’s eyes had regained their usual twinkle. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to some business.” He raised a hand as Harry and Draco moved to stand up. “No, please, do not get on principle. Feel free to remain here while you brainstorm.”
“Thank you,” Harry said.
Dumbledore smiled, gave a little nod, then left the room.
“Well,” Hermione said in the silence that had followed Dumbledore’s departure. “Shall we begin?”
Draco looked surprised. “Hold on, you’re actually going to work with me?” he said. He looked from Ron to Hermione.
“Yeah,” Ron said, shrugging. “I may not like you, but we don’t really have much of a choice.”
“Hmm,” Draco said, nodding. “And you, Hermione?”
“I’ve never forgiven you for the rotten names you’ve called me, Malfoy,” Hermione responded. “But Harry sees something in you, and Ron’s right. We don’t have time and we need all the brain power we can find to come up with a plan. So, yes. We’re actually going to work with you.”
Draco nodded. “Then let’s get to it.”