Nobody had seen the otter turn and dart into the water.
Parvati caught up with Draco before he had been swept too far, and she nudged his face up to the air. For a second, he grabbed at her, as a drowning man might grab at a straw, and Parvati almost panicked. If she was caught, she could not help him. As it was, she needed to be a larger animal to help properly – yet who could swim as well as an otter? She had not time to think of anything else.
As she struggled, Draco disappeared under the surface again, and Parvati had to swim down into the racing swirling icy blackness to find him. She did find him, with an otters’ instinct, and desperately forced his head upwards again. He gasped for air, but was still struggling, if less violently now. A lower crag hanging from the ceiling hit him on the head as they were carried past, and almost knocked him out, which helped her a lot.
They had a nightmare journey, with slippery black walls and icy waters, but the current was very speedy. Parvati found Draco easier to manage while only half conscious. She nudged him onto his back, and then swam underneath his head, forcing it upwards as much as possible. She could not feel or hear if he were breathing, so loud was the tumultuous water, but she was not going to lose him now.
He floated naturally, and she was able to keep him from the more dangerous eddies, which would have dragged him under to a watery grave. It was not long before Parvati saw light. Luckily for her, Draco was limp with cold at this point, and could hardly move. Because she had spent the journey pushing him upwards for his next breath she was nearly spent herself. As they shot into sunlight, Parvati was able to keep herself under Draco’s neck, as a sort of otter pillow. He still drank more than his fair share of river water, but now she could tell he was breathing.
They were catapaulted over the weir, (Parvati knew that Draco probably banged his legs quite hard on the stones, but she was powerless to stop him) and were in the river, floating more strongly now. Parvati was careful to keep Draco’s face out of water.
There were Death Eaters swarming above the river, and a couple dragging nets in the places that debris would normally be washed up, but Draco was still wearing the invisibility cloak, and so most of him could not be seen in the river. Parts of the robe had billowed open, but she was helpless to do anything about that. Parvati hoped they would look like shadows in the water’s surface. She swam very carefully, trying to avoid the nets as best she could, and also not to make any huge splashes on the surface of the water where there wouldn’t normally be splashes. Two of the Death Eaters saw her, and pointed her out to each other, but people expect to see otters in the water, and they did not pursue her. Because they were looking at her, they failed to see the parts of Draco that had become uncovered by the Invisibility cloak. Parvati tried to swim naturally as was possible, so they would not notice her burden. Inwardly she marveled at the lack of training or intelligence the guards displayed. That, if anything, would win them the war.
Now that she could see, she blessed her sense of smell, and the whiskers that had allowed her to follow Draco so surely in the blackness of the tunnel. She let the river carry them beyond the Death Eaters to the forest, to overhanging trees, where she set her teeth in Draco’s collar, and guided him to shore. It wasn’t easy, as she was a good deal smaller than he was, but she managed it at last. Her nose told her that Ron’s safe haven wasn’t too far away either – perhaps a quarter of a mile or so. Neither were the Death Eaters far away. She looked around quickly, and then transformed.
As soon as she became human again, she registered the cold. It was freezing. She was fairly dry, an otter’s coat just needing a quick shake, but Draco was sodden, and she had no wand.
She took the hood off his face, and looked at him. He was quite white with blue lips, and was breathing shallowly, and although his eyes flickered when she called to him, she did not think he was just tired; he was not totally conscious. She felt the frustration of having no wand. If she were to carry him, she would need to do it in a fireman’s lift.
If she became a horse, it would be easy, but what was the point? In his condition he would never be able to climb onto her back. If she wiggled under him and then transformed, he could slide off and hurt herself. And she couldn’t levitate him without a wand. His leg and arm looked nasty, so she would have to lift him, even though she had read somewhere about keeping injured people still in case their backs were hurt. The Death Eaters were getting closer; she could hear them in the distance. She needed to get him away from the bank quickly.
It took her three goes, but at last she had Draco over her shoulder, and then, hearing the Death Eaters coming closer, started out. She had to get him to shelter as quickly as she could - he was so cold she could feel him shaking. He was much too heavy for her, where he was over her shoulder, but when you have to do something, you do it, and at least he showed no signs of slipping. He was heavy, and his waterlogged clothes made him heavier.
Parvati’s legs felt like reeds, and she could feel the breath coming in snorts out of her nose, but she kept going, doggedly and slowly, feeling the cold water from Draco’s clothes run down her back, and front.
They had to make detours a couple of times to avoid the searchers, but Parvati’s ears were quick, and once they had let the river bank there were no more people to avoid. When they reached the outpost, she gave a sigh of relief. It was only luck that they had not been spotted by the Death Eaters she knew were searching for them. She spoke the password, and fell inside. There would be a bit of a trail leading straight to the post, for anyone that could read it, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Draco still hadn’t moved, and Parvati felt his hands, which were completely icy, and blue. She fumbled with heavy wet material, and eventually, with the help of a kitchen bread knife, managed to take off the invisibility cloak. She then tried to take off his shirt, but wet and cold as it was, the buttons were too hard to undo easily, and it was taking a long time. She pulled Draco over to and into the shower as he was, fully dressed, and turned it on warm, as she tried to undo his shirt buttons. She found that the cuff on his dress robes was cutting into his swollen arm, and unable to undo the button, which was pulled tight by the swelling she cut it off.
The tears ran down her face as she tugged and pulled to get the clothing off him, seeing his wounds, some of which looked severe. She had never realized how easy magic made life. How Muggles coped, she couldn’t imagine. The water from the shower ran down her as she worked, soaking her, and mingling with the tears on her face. Draco lay breathing shallowly, and almost unmoving, apart from the violent tremors that ran through him from time to time with the cold. In spite of the hot water, he was still freezing cold. He would have hypothermia badly. If only she had a wand! She had just managed to get his shoes and socks off, when there was a noise behind her in the room.
Parvati shrieked and spun around in absolute terror, only to find Professor Lupin standing there.
That was the end of her nightmare. Professor Lupin magically removed Draco’s clothes, and dried him with the wand. He also performed a warming spell, which was usually used for chilly days, but helped. Draco stopped shaking so violently, and they wrapped him in a quilt from one of the beds. Professor Lupin prepared a Portkey, and they transferred to Grimmauld Place, where Lilah had freshly prepared rooms and clothes laid out on a bed for Parvati in the event of her return.
She was waiting, pacing feverishly, knowing from the amount of time Lupin had been away that something had happened. When she saw Draco, she flung her arms around Parvati joyfully, and then, stepping back, noticed that Parvati herself was not in a very good state. Parvati did not want to be away from Draco, but Lilah insisted. “You have had a shock, so you need to take care of yourself, Parvati. Don’t worry about Draco. I am a very good amateur healer, and will be able to deal with some of his cuts, especially as we had a real healer in here for Snape. He left some potions behind. Then, after he has slept and had something to eat, we will take him to Hogwarts, and he can be put under the care of Madam Pomfrey, and the healers there.” She gave Parvati a fierce hug again. “Thank you for bringing my brother back. I never thought there was a chance that he would be alive.”
Parvati showered and brushed out her long hair borrowing a wand that someone had left lying on the bedside table to dry it. She pampered herself a bit, rubbing on scented cream (Lilah had obviously been shopping first thing, or had brought stuff from her place, wherever that might be), healing some of the cuts she had sustained and re-growing the nails that had broken. The two that had been ripped off would have to wait to grow again.
When she was done, she twisted in front of the mirror. Lilah was right – most the scratches she had sustained as a griffin would fade. She just had the one deep wound on her shoulder that would leave a scar, a couple over her thighs and hips and the one down her face. For a moment her vision blurred with tears. It looked so ugly! However, she pulled herself together. Draco would have scars too – and there was no knowing what Madam Pomfrey and a bit of makeup could do.
Parvati put on the clothes Lilah had laid out for her; Muggle clothes including jeans (rolled up a lot, and tied at the waist, as Lilah was much taller) and a pale green jumper and socks. Parvati felt good. The preening had revived her more completely than a meal and a nap could have. She took a last look in the mirror and danced outside to see if Draco was any better.
He was clean and dressed in Lupin’s clothes, but still asleep. His arm looked much improved however, as it was clean and bandaged, and the fingers, sticking from the bandage did not look like black sausages any more, but were recognizable fingers. Parvati stroked his hair back off his face, and was startled as Professor Lupin came in.
“There you are! Lilah said you would probably be here, so I brought your dinner in.” He set a tray down on the table as he spoke, and Parvati realized she was famished. It was already late evening. “Lilah is helping Snape to eat. He is still here, but Dumbledore and I are taking him to Hogwarts tomorrow. Dumbledore is arriving tomorrow morning. I am sure he will want to talk to you.” Gently he took her face in his long lean fingers, and examined her scar, running his wand along it. It stung, and Parvati bit her lip. He looked sad when he stood up again, but smiled at her before leaving the room.
Parvati ate her supper ravenously. It was a delectable chicken Marsala with accompanying Naan bread and dhal. Either Lilah or Professor Lupin cooked very well. It was followed by a light lemon sorbet that had a cooling charm on it to keep it iced while she ate her main course. Feeling full and safe, she banished her plates back to the kitchen, and pushed back the recliner next to Draco’s bed, ready for her first real night’s sleep in over a week.
**********
Draco had been a little surprised to say the least when he came to and found Professor Lupin and Lilah trying to get a shirt over his head, arguing that pajamas would be more suitable. Apparently Lupin did not wear them, and Draco, drifting in and out of the conversation saw Lilah blush. He was even more surprised when he woke to find that he had obviously been bathed and his hurts tended to. His bruises were still there, but the cuts and abrasions were healing fast, and his hand actually resembled a hand again, even if it was blue with bruises. He let himself be dressed, and then drifted into sleep again, still too tired and too hurt to mind being looked after by Professor Lupin, whom he had never much liked.
Now Draco woke feeling like a new person. He had not expected to survive, and not only had he done so, but he was almost warm again, clean, and warmly dressed in weird Muggle clothes – rather threadbare corduroy trousers in a sort of light brown, and a cream polo neck sweater, and a jumper that looked a little like Mrs. Weasley had had something to do with it. Anyway, it was sort of owl coloured. He had never worn any clothes like these before in his life, and wouldn’t have now, only there was nothing else. He guessed the clothes belonged to Professor Lupin. He did not feel ready to say thank you however, until he had seen himself in a mirror - he felt like a 45-year-old werewolf, and hoped he didn’t look it.
He saw the open door of the bathroom in the corner of the room, and, using the crutches that somebody had kindly left beside the bed, limped over to investigate. The mirror in there was not kind. One of his hands was bandaged up, and the other was in a sling. Some rather interesting bruises and gashes covered his face. One eye was nearly swollen shut. He rather thought his ankle might be broken, and he had some very intense bruises there as well. And he did look like a 45-year-old werewolf. He scowled.
He didn’t remember much after falling into the icy waters. He had a vague recollection of seeing Professor Lupin and Lilah around at one stage. Nobody was around now, and he wondered what was going on.
He tried not to, but he was feeling weak, and so his thoughts turned to Peter and his mother. He struggled for a minute against the wave of misery. He missed Parvati’s warmth and comfort and then he wondered, in spite of himself, if she had deserted him already. Pictures of her with Harry floated through his mind. Harry wouldn’t have come back in a limp unconscious state. Harry would have waltzed in with the job done, and the girls safely in tow behind him. Parvati probably admired that. He was even finding it difficult to use the bathroom. Great. Irritated, miserable and peeved with himself and Parvati, he limped slowly out of his room to investigate.
He had not gone far, when he heard a squeal that nearly burst his eardrums, and looking up, there was Parvati, who had just rounded the top of the stairs, and was coming towards him like an express. He braced himself.
Parvati, who had been sitting with him, had heard him stir, and had gone – as per Lilah’s instructions – to heat up the soup that he would be eating, as it was now noon. She was coming back to check on him when she saw him limping along the hall towards her. She ran forward, and noted happily that when Draco saw her, his scowling miserable face lit up. He didn’t even seem to notice her face. He held her in his good arm as she melted into him, and leaning down kissed her tenderly, pulling away frustrated however, when his bruised and split lip protested.
Parvati ran her hands over his face gently, kissing his hurts lightly and lovingly. “They really messed you up,” she said, tears in her eyes. “Draco, I am so sorry – it was my fault – Snape was just too heavy with Lilah as well.”
Draco felt a peculiar sensation in the bottom of his stomach. It was difficult to realize it as a welling of emotion – partly relief. He almost cried, but then laughed a little shakily, taking her hand in his bandaged one, and looking into her eyes. “Parvati, it wasn’t your fault. It just happened. You did everything you could. If it wasn’t for you, Snape would never have made it.”
He noted the nasty looking cut running along the side of her face, and wished he could have spared her that. Slowly, angling his mouth to given him the least pain, he kissed her again. “And I probably wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. I have no idea how I got back here, but I do remember seeing you, so I know you were there. You will have to tell me everything.”
“I will,” Parvati promised, “But we have to see Dumbledore first. He is waiting for us, Lilah says. She and Professor Lupin are going to take us when they get back – they left to take Snape back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore. There is to be a conference tonight. But you should be in bed! I will bring some food up to you.”
Draco raised his eyebrow at her. He fully intended to milk his injuries as much as possible now that he was back safe, but he was not going back to bed to do so.
“Sod that for a game of soldiers. I am going to eat sitting up.”
Parvati shook her head at him, “You should be in bed.”
Draco, intrigued by possibilities, rethought the situation. “Does me staying in bed mean that you are going to come and minister to my every need?” Parvati leaned in and kissed him softly.
“Of course it does!” she assured him, and then caught his leer and glared. “I am going to feed you and make sure you are comfortable!” she told him. “You shouldn’t feel well enough for that yet!” Draco grinned at her, unrepentant, some of his fragile ego restored.
“If I didn’t feel well enough, I would be dead. Anyway, it was worth a try,” he told her.
Soon he was seated at the table with a bowl of French Onion soup and some crusty new made bread with fresh butter. His throat, which had been raw from all the screaming he must have done while under the Cruciatus Curse was wonderfully soothed by the soup, even though his lips hurt to eat, and the bread was light and very tasty. Parvati kept plying him with cups of tea (Earl Grey, his favorite), as in spite of having been immersed in water he was terribly thirsty, although she herself had a glass of the ubiquitous highly orange pumpkin juice with some biscuits.
Lupin and Lilah arrived halfway thorough the meal, Lupin amazed, and not too pleased to see Draco up already, and Lilah flinging her arms around him, in a way that made him yelp. He was not up to being touched yet, and hurt in what felt like a thousand places.
Lilah looked over at Parvati. “Does Dumbledore know he is up yet?”
Parvati shook her head. “No,” she said, “We couldn’t have contacted him if we had wanted to. Neither of us have wands.”
Lilah held out two cheap looking wands. “I dropped by Diagon Alley, and Mr. Ollivander gave these to me as a standby. They will be something you can use for now. And now I am dying to hear what happened to you Draco, but I think we should go to Dumbledore, since you are obviously feeling well enough to sit up, and you can tell the story once, rather than many times.”
Draco, who had been feeling like he would like to go back and sleep some more, saw the advantages to this. Besides, he had things to tell Dumbledore that should not wait while he slept. He grabbed another slice of bread, and held out his mug for some more tea.
They were to go by Portkey again, as Draco had not recovered sufficiently to hop in and out of a fireplace, but Lupin insisted that Parvati and Lilah support Draco to try to stop him falling. It didn’t work, but at least, as Draco told Parvati, they broke his fall, so it was not as painful as it could have been.
********************************
Dumbledore’s office was not large enough, so the Room of Requirements was requisitioned. Dumbledore looked around in interest as they entered. A large fire burned in the grate of what looked like a very comfortable boardroom, with many easy chairs, every two with a table between them, and clipboards on each table. There was a large table full to bursting with cold delicacies – pork pies, scotch eggs, Cornish pasties, sausages, and sandwiches, salads, large bowls of crisps, smaller bowls with nuts, trays of assorted biscuits and fancy cakes, and a bonbon dish full of lemon drops.
“So this is the room that filled with chamber pots for me,” mused Dumbledore, taking a sweet. “Very entertaining. Does it add on bits? If we need a bathroom for instance?”
Ron, who had ordered the room and was present smiled and showed the Headmaster two doors, complete with symbols. “No need – everything we require is already here.”
Professor Snape swirled in slowly, limping, with a cane, looking ill, emaciated and annoyed, but on his feet. “Am I really needed for this meeting? Granger and I were working on some important potions.” He flapped awkwardly like a bad tempered bat over to a chair and sank down into it gingerly. He still had a sling on one arm, and a blue sort of tinge like a cast around one ankle. It did not seem to have improved his temper any.
Everyone but Dumbledore remained in a cowardly silence, but Dumbledore looked troubled. “My dear Snape! You are not supposed to be working on anything for a while. Hermione has everything well under control.”
Snape snorted, but did not answer. He noticed Parvati and glared at her instead, as if it were her fault he was in a bad mood. Hermione, who had followed Snape into the room, was grimacing behind his back.
Remembering his promise to himself, Draco caught her arm. “Thanks for the invisibility cloak Hermione. They were a brilliant idea.” It was difficult for him, but he said it. He saw Parvati’s surprise, amazement and pride, and felt pretty good about himself.
Hermione’s mouth fell open, and she moved it soundlessly a few times before nodding, and sitting down in a chair next to him, still looking very taken aback. Ron sat on a cushion at her feet, leaning back against her legs.
Parvati sat on a brightly coloured cushion at Draco’s feet, and Lilah moved over to sit by Snape. Parvati noticed Lupin’s eyes follow her, and then he went to sit near her, in a hopeless kind of way. Parvati didn’t think it was as hopeless as he did – Lilah would need time to recover from the death of Peter, whom she had obviously loved very deeply, but she did like older men. At this point, Parvati became aware of Draco and Hermione looking down at her, Draco with a very sardonic grin, and she blushed bright red. She leaned over to hiss at him, “Don’t use your Legilimency skills on me! It’s not fair!” Draco’s eyebrows rose.
“My Dear Heart,’ he drawled, “I didn’t need any skills to read your mind just then. Hold off on choosing me a new brother-in-law. I am not sure I approve of Professor Lupin!” Parvati heard Hermione and Ron laugh and batted her eyelashes at him. “How do you feel about Snape then?” she asked mockingly. Hermione laughed harder, and Ron snorted.
Draco looked up in horror, but his sister wasn’t looking at Snape with any great affection. They appeared to be conversing, but that was all. All the same, knowing Parvati and her nose for romance, he cocked an eyebrow down at her again. “Please tell me there is no chance.”
Parvati grinned up at him. “No! Just thought I’d give you a scare!” She winked at Hermione, who laughed again at Draco’s expression.
Draco looked around the room as people filed in, and either sat in one of the chairs, or took a cushion on the floor. How different to Voldemort’s stronghold, where you had to stand in the glare and were tired and frightened all the time. Here the room was tastefully decorated in blues, the chairs looked comfortably shabby, and there were shadowy corners, with shaded lamps. He breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he had made the right choice.
Absently he played with Parvati’s hair as others filed into the room, either sitting on the brightly coloured cushions, or in the chairs, of which there seemed to be just enough. Interestingly enough, Dobby the house-elf was there, along with two others. Draco ignored him, as he had done since Dobby came to Hogwarts. His feelings towards Dobby were ambivalent.
Harry entered and sat down. He was rather white and looked as if the whole world was balanced on his shoulders – which it was in a way - and predictably Ginny, who came in after him, sat near him on a red cushion that clashed horribly with her hair, trying not to look interested. Draco, looking over at Harry’s grim face and thin lips felt a rush of sympathy. Now that he had seen Voldemort close up, he wouldn’t wish him on his worst enemy. And Harry was more alone now. Harry, Ron and Hermione were obviously still a trio, as he looked at them for support now and then, but Ron and Hermione sat together as a couple. Harry sat at what was the head of the room with Dumbledore.
Draco, watching, wondered why on earth Harry didn’t take up with Ginny. She had really blossomed over the last year, and looked ravishing, with that pale skin covered in cute freckles and the flaming red hair. She must look something like Harry’s mother had looked, except he wasn’t sure if Lily had freckles or not. Also she was the seventh child and the only girl in a wizarding family. She had to have some serious power. She could be an asset to him. And Harry looked as if he could do with some relaxation time.
He looked down to see what Parvati thought and stiffened immediately. Parvati was looking at Harry with hero worship in her eyes. Draco didn’t stop to consider that his own expression actually might have been similar. His mouth set in a line, as he clenched his hand so hard in Parvati’s hair that he pulled it and she looked back at him questioningly. He saw Lilah look at him sharply.
At that moment he was interrupted by Padma Patel, who came right over, and taking his face between her hands, kissed him soundly in the only place on his face that he had no bruises. Startled he jumped, but she was beaming at him. “Thank you for looking after Parvati so well,” she said, and then went over to Professor Snape, and plopped herself down on a cushion by his chair, looking up at him and smiling. Parvati fully expected her sister to be annihilated, but Snape actually gave one of his bone-chilling smiles, showing his yellow canines, and said something to her in a low growl.
Distracted from his thoughts of Harry and Parvati, Draco leaned down laughing, so that his breath tickled Parvati’s neck. “Do you want Snape as an in-law?” Parvati pushed him, laughing herself, but her eyes stayed on Padma for an instant. What did her twin think she was doing? She seemed to be flirting with Snape, and he was responding in the way that a big savage dog might if you had a dog treat and didn’t get near enough to have your hand bitten off. Snape was almost as old as her father!
Draco ran his eyes over the room again. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron and Ginny seemed to represent the Weasley family, so red heads were spotted around the room. Fudge was there, with Percy hanging behind his chair, embarrassed and trying not to look at his mother, so count another Weasley – honestly they bred like rats.
Then there were a few people that Draco did not recognize that he assumed belonged to the Order, including one weird woman with bright pink hair. The Room of Requirements did not look overstuffed, in spite of all the armchairs and pillows and the number of people there.
Draco was going to bask in his glory. Finally a Slytherin was being able to show what he could do. Snape never got any glory, as only a select few knew what he did and any credit always went to the Gryffindors. However, today was going to be different. It would show people like Harry and Ron that Gryffindor was not the only house worth counting. Perhaps now, Dumbledore would finally stop favouring the Gryffindors.
By the time he left the meeting however, Draco felt humbled. He and Parvati had spent three days in Voldemort’s employ, and Snape had spent years. He had suffered far more, endured so much and worked so hard that their effort paled in comparison, even though they had learned some very important facts.
Snape refused to be a hero though. When Dumbledore turned to thank him, his yellow teeth showed in a snarl, and the applause was scanty, as people onviously wondered whether Snape would hex them for having showed any appreciation at all. To Parvati’s fright, Padma laid a hand on Snape’s knee for a minute, but he didn’t hex her.
Lilah gave them her pertinent information, including the griffin arena guests, all of whom she had recognized and remembered although she had been busy repelling griffins and hanging onto Parvati.
Parvati gave a condensed version of what she had found out from the other owls and then Draco took the floor. He was ashamed and humiliated when his voice stopped for an instant when he told about his mother and Peter. Parvati stepped quickly up and covered for him over that part, as he tried hard to regain control. He was glad she took over, although she cried as she described the scene, she was lucid. He would never have been able to do it himself. He would have bawled. Once that was over however, he was able to manage the rest. He was actually surprised at the applause after he had finished. After listening to Snape, all he had done was confirm facts and figures, and tell them what they least wanted to hear. He felt miserable having to tell Dumbledore about the number of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that he had seen at the Hall of Vandalls.
********************
It was painfully obvious to everyone that Voldemort wanted to force a war before they – and especially Harry - were ready for one, and would do so by slaughtering Muggles with impunity. This had a threefold impact. It would disorganize the Ministry of Magic outreaches, keep the Dementors, trolls and a large faction of goblins happy, and would intimidate people into keeping silent and away from Dumbledore. The longer they waited, the more hopeless it would be. Now that Voldemort knew Snape had escaped, there was even more urgency. They had to strike now, before he found Draco was also still alive – and that was only a matter of time.
Draco watched Harry throughout the meeting, and his respect and admiration grew. He had seen enough of Harry’s background during their Occlumency session to respect him. He had always realized Harry was brave (in fact, he had been quite bitter about it, especially when they had seen Quirrel in the forest drinking unicorn’s blood, and he had screamed and run away, while Harry had stayed) but now he saw him differently.
Even before Harry spoke, he realized that he would follow wherever Harry led. Perhaps he was more like his father than he realized – they had just chosen different sides. He was essentially a follower, and in spite of his youth, in spite of his rather slight build and messy hair, Harry inspired loyalty and trust. In the breakdown of the relationship between Draco and his father, Draco had not had anyone to look up to except Peter, and Peter was dead. Now all his allegiance changed. Harry was bound and determined to slay those people who had murdered Peter and he found himself jealous of Ron and Hermione who had been Harry’s friends first.
And the magical world was divided, some believing the lies and rumor that had been circulated by the Daily Prophet and Cornelius Fudge. Draco wanted to squirm in his seat as he thought of how he had contributed to those rumors. What Harry needed was unqualified support, and he did not have it.
When Harry told of the prophecy, there was a shuddering gasp that ran around the room. It was time to tell the most trusted followers. Harry would need to be protected, and supported, and he judged that people needed to know. Draco looked idly over at Ginny, and was not surprised to see that her face was as white as a sheet. Even her freckles seemed pale. Looking up, Draco was astonished to see Dumbledore staring at her, his eyes dark and brooding. A moment later however, he was handing around some barley sugar, “a great Muggle remedy for shock,” to Mrs. Weasley and Percy, who looked like he might faint.
Parvati herself was white faced and Draco felt a huge surge of jealousy. He knew Parvati had once had a bit of a crush on Harry (it had been obvious to everyone except Harry himself) and she knew how it bothered him. Now he felt a rush of anger towards her. How dare she sit at his feet and worship Harry? He forgot that Harry had been a friend and classmate of Parvati’s for years, and took it personally.
Then Dumbledore himself took the floor. He had only just heard the facts and figures given to him, yet he must have been preparing for this. He was ordering direct attacks on Voldemort’s stronghold in two days’ time. Bill was given major responsibilities, and he nodded, his freckled face stern, an expression that looked odd on a Weasley.
Lilah was to meet Charlie Weasley, who was a liaison with the Dragon Keepers and return the next day with them. Charlie would be in charge of an air attack, mounted on some of the more manageable hatchlings of the Greenback Charlie had been rearing. Greenbacks seemed to have the least resistance to taking orders from humans. Occasionally Dumbledore would ask Ron to speak, making it obvious that a major portion of the planning had been his idea. Hermione was quite blatantly bursting with pride. Her smile outdid Mrs. Weasley’s. Fudge wore a frown, and said little, obviously out of his depth, and not enjoying it.
Percy Weasley was in charge of setting up Apparating points and coordinating figures, which thrilled him. He wore a very humbled air, and seemed glad to be given anything to do. Draco thought Percy would be good at it. He was born with a finicky eye to detail, so there would probably be no need to worry about that end of the operation.
Hannah Abbot and Professor McGonagall would be in charge of communications.
Mrs. Weasley was put in charge of the canteen, and Draco thought he saw her eyes gleam at the thought of feeding thousands as opposed to a few. She was going to take some Hogwarts House Elves to help her. Hermione’s lips grew thin at this, but she didn’t say anything – after all, if Voldemort won the war, the house elves would definitely be worse off than they were now.
Professor Snape and Professor Sinistra were to lead a faction to repel the Dementors, choosing sixth and seventh year students who Harry recommended as being good with Patronuses to help, along with other trained Aurors.
Draco’s head spun. It seemed like an impossible task, given the time available, to storm Voldemort’s stronghold. He was appointed to Harry’s “team”, although he suspected that it was Dumbledore’s name for a bodyguard, along with Hermione, Ginny (Mrs. Weasley did not look too happy, and neither did Ron) and Dumbledore himself.
Ron was to coordinate the attack. Draco’s jealousy of Ron abated slightly. Ron was not to be with Harry. He, Draco had been given that position. Ron raised his head frowning, but did not oppose Dumbledore. A sturdy Auror whose name Draco didn’t catch was to lead another faction, and another who Draco thought he might have seen at the Malfoy mansion was named another leader. The stronghold would come under attack from three sides and the top.
Parvati would be a go-between. Her gift would prove extremely useful as she could avoid detection more easily than some. Again Draco had to struggle with the feeling that a woman’s place is in the home, not out attacking Death Eaters. He knew that Parvati had proved herself, and even saved his life by using her particular powers, but he still felt dissatisfied. He regretted the wound that ran the length of her lovely face, now pulled closed by sticking stitches. She should not have had that. She should have been kept safe and beautiful. And she was still looking at Harry! He pulled her hair sharply again, so that she yelped and looked around at him again, completely mystified. He saw Lilah’s eyes narrow as she watched him.
There were plans and plans and the food came in useful. Everybody seemed to be talking at once, and Apparating and Disapparating, (apparently the Room of Requirement allowed this) but even so, Draco thought that it was more organized and purposeful than Voldemort’s camp.
Although not everybody was there, people were ready and waiting for instructions. A lot of Voldemort’s supporters were too scared of Voldemort to be useful, and those that could be were fighting each other to be high in Voldemort’s favour.
Draco smiled at Parvati, prepared to forgive her as she handed him a plate loaded with sandwiches and crisps. Padma supplied him with coffee, and he was all set to join everyone in refining plans, but Dumbledore remembered him and Snape and sent them off to the hospital wing with Lilah and strict instructions to stay there.
Draco felt a bit resentful, but it was nothing to what Snape felt from the look on his face. However, they both knew that to be able to take part in the battle, they needed to be fit, and two days was not a lot of time in which to recuperate. Parvati gave Draco a quick kiss, and promising to update him later, she walked over to join the group around Harry. Draco’s last glimpse of her was seeing her laugh at something Harry said, her hand touching his arm. He forgot entirely that Parvati was a touchy kind of person, and saw red. By the time Lilah had them to the Infirmary, Snape was sulking, and Draco was in a towering rage.
There were no more beds in the Infirmary, and Lilah had to conjure two more to fit into a little room beside the main hospital wing, which already housed a sleeping occupant. The room became rather snug. Draco had forgotten that the injured from the Ministry had been transported to Hogwarts, and he was rather horrified at the number. It looked like a wing of St. Mungos. There were at least four other Healers working as well as Madam Pomfrey, and a number of House Elves.
And if St. Mungo’s had not been already crowded, there would be no wounded here. Draco wondered if they were going to be able to cope with the wounded from the next battles. Lilah, who was setting out the room, and checking the small bathroom, informed him that the West Wing was being readied as another ward, and that it was not as bad as it looked - all the people who were not too badly injured had already been transported to Hogwarts from St. Mungos, which was almost empty. It was a strain on the Hogwarts House Elves, but only St. Mungos really had the facilities to cure seriously wounded people.
She left after a while, and Snape and Draco eyed each other warily, before Snape waved his wand and commanded “Accio Bookcase!” Unfortunately he was glaring at Draco while he did so, and the bookcase landed half on his bed, and fell over with a resounding crash, waking up the other patient. Draco could have groaned out loud. It was Arthur Weasley. He could write a book about this – a horror novel, entitled “Stuck in a Room with Weasley and Snape.”
Both he and Arthur politely helped Snape put all the books back in the bookcase, and then Arthur got up to use the bathroom. Draco caught his breath as he saw Arthur now walked on a stump, like Moody. He must have been hurt in the Ministry bombing. It brought it home to him again. The war was real, and although his part in it now seemed like a dream, he was going back.
He thought about Parvati. Why had she not come with him? He wondered if she was having second thoughts about him. The idea made him fidgety, and his rage started to subside into rejection. She could have come with him and then gone back to the conference, She didn’t have to stay with Harry. The picture of her talking earnestly to Harry came back to haunt him. She had always had a crush on Harry, he remembered again moodily.
He fell asleep after a while, only to wake shouting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It was late evening. Arthur came over and gave him a drink, which embarrassed him, although he was grateful for it, while Snape watched scathingly from his bed. Snape never had nightmares.
After a while, Madam Pomfrey came in with clean pajamas for all of them, which would have made them look like unfortunates from Azkaban. She also had various purges and ointments for them to swallow and rub in an assortment of places. Draco wondered dismally if the clothing situation could get much worse. Parvati might run a mile if she saw him in these. Not that she had been near him for a while. Harry worshiping in the Room of Requirements, he wouldn’t wonder. And the trouble was, he was beginning to see what all the girls saw in Harry. He was competition.
It was stupid to feel this jealous about nothing. He knew it was nothing, but all the same, he couldn’t help wondering. Harry. Even he was starting to like Harry. How could Parvati, who was so emotional, not like him?
He did not know how to control the way he felt. He could see quite clearly now that if he ended up with Parvati now, he would end up by hurting both of them. He needed to fix his personality before he could offer her any sort of a relationship. She was too dear to him to contemplate anything less than a very serious bond, and he was not ready for that yet. He didn’t even know how to love properly. His parents had never given him any kind of role model for it. He was too screwed up. It would be better if Parvati were not so intense. If they could have a light bright affair, it would be much easier.
He had been too taken up with the war. That feeling that one might only live a few hours more made one say and feel silly things. He had told her he loved her. Well, and so he did; but he did not have the right to tell her so. Of course, if he told her any of this, she would try and talk him out of it, help him through it, waste a lot of her time in tears.
Uncomfortably he remembered shouting at her until she cried about Harry, and then pulling her hair this evening. He had even thought of forgiving her! He had nothing to forgive – she was completely innocent, and she had told him so the day they had the big argument and he had shouted and stormed at her. Now he could see that, but when she was in front of him? He doubted it.
She and Harry were just friends. Or so she said. Draco struggled with himself as he lay silently. After a while, feeling exhausted, he got up and gloomily called his own black silk pajamas from his own room, and so did Snape. Neither of them was pleased to find their pajamas were almost identical, and Snape put his robes on again over them, glaring even worse. It was funny in a way that it was Lupin who was the werewolf. Snape looked more like one.
Mr. Weasley quite happily put his Azkaban attire on, and then showed Draco how his wooden leg unscrewed (based on Muggle technology) and had a hollow inside for storing rum, if one happened to like the stuff. Draco could not help noticing that he had a couple of silver fingers too, and a long scar down the side of his neck. He had obviously been caught quite badly. It gave Draco the patience to listen patiently as Mr. Weasley told him all about Muggle pirates and Snape glared at them both from his bed, in a manner almost acid enough to poison them, and then ostentatiously summoned large black earmuffs, which he put on. Draco squirmed with embarrassment, but Arthur Weasley was quite unselfconscious about it.
Lilah came in again quite late, to see Draco. She was serious. “I asked Parvati to wait,” she said. “I know I do not know you very well, but I need to talk to you.”
Draco nodded, not trying to hide that he knew what she was going to say. “I saw that you noticed. It made me think.”
Lilah sat on the bed and looked down at him compassionately. “You are starting to look at her and treat her like father treated Narcissa. I remember when they were first married it was better, and then it got to the stage where he wouldn’t let her talk to anyone. Including me. You can’t do that to Parvati, Draco. She is so in love with you, she would make all sorts of allowances. She wouldn’t be able to fight back, or realize what was happening until it was too late – until you were both entrenched in your misery without being able to see a way out. If you aren’t careful, you will eventually make her hate you.”
Draco nodded, but did not trust himself to speak for a minute. “I know. I realized when I saw you looking at me.”
When Parvati tiptoed in, sometime just after eleven, Draco was still awake and thrashing about disconsolately. She looked tired, but sat down beside his bed, and took his hand in hers. And at that moment, although Draco had been wishing for her to come all day, he knew he had to end things. Love was not enough. In fact love could destroy them both.
He had been lying in bed writhing in jealousy all day, and deep down, he knew she was not at fault. It was him. He was not in control any more. In fact, he had not been in control for a while. He had meant Parvati to be a mild entertainment, not a full time obsession, and they had not even slept together. Just how he would feel about her if he did, he was afraid to think. It kept trembling on the tip of his tongue to ask her to marry him. For Merlin’s sake, what was he thinking? He was seventeen! His mother had been seventeen when she married, and look how happy that had made her! Added to which he had no money, no home – nothing!
Being together and in danger had escalated things too fast and too far. And he knew he was being ridiculous, but he was still furious with her for the way she had looked at Harry. Harry the savior. He was the one who had rescued her but it was Harry she trusted to save them all. Subconsciously he knew it was a wish to control her, as his father had controlled his mother, but other emotions, closer to the surface boiled up. He did not want to think about her, or find out exactly how she had saved his life, because he would never be able to let her go.
He drew his hand away from hers sharply. “Parvati, you look tired. Why don’t you just turn in?” He was aware of Arthur trying not to listen, and Snape furiously reading another mouldy tome in an effort not to see them.
Parvati was hurt by his tone of voice, as he knew she would be. Draco shrugged. He may as well make this quick. “I would like you to keep my mother’s ring, but I think it is over between us. We kind of got too caught up in things, and I need some time away from you. After all, your wizard’s debt is paid – I saved your life, you saved mine.” He watched her lovely face crumple, and saw her ready to argue. He would never be able to cope if she argued so he was cruel. “I think I may ask Ginny out. Kind of fun to go out with a redhead! And she has suddenly got rather stunning.” He noticed Parvati’s beautiful, thick, long, very much loved straight hair. “I like redheads. And you are going to have that scar. Kind of ruins your face, and Ginny is really pretty.” He knew he had hit Parvati where it hurt.
He had thought she would cry, but Parvati went chalk white, and looked deep into his eyes for a few minutes. Draco used all his Occlumency skills, and his eyes were bland. She drew in a choked breath, abruptly turned on her heel and walked away. He knew he had hurt her more deeply than he could have believed possible, but was unable to call her back. He needed her to go, and he had said the things he thought would make her leave. As she went, he felt his heart tear, but sneering kept the hurt at bay. He turned on Arthur, who was watching her leave. “What are you staring at?”
Arthur returned his gaze compassionately. “I think you did the right thing,” he said surprisingly, not pretending he had not overheard. “You have a lot to work on before you get into a deep and committed relationship. She is too young to have to cope with you right now.” His expression as he watched Draco was sympathetic.
Draco gave a snarl, and banged his head into his pillow. Arthur Weasley, who he had always despised, approving of him? It was the last straw. He did not remember feeling this bad in his whole life. And the worst was that when he did eventually cry, he could not sniff, because he did not want Snape or Arthur Weasley to notice.
Perhaps if he had not been so weak still, he would not have cried, but once he had started, he cried for everything: for the mother he had never really known or appreciated, for the man who he thought had been his father, and the man who he had come to care for, and for the wonderful girl who would never now be his. It was early in the morning when he realized he was not alone. Arthur Weasley was sitting on his bed, a hand on his arm, lending silent comfort. How long he had been there, Draco did not know.
Exhausted, he did not protest, in fact he was grateful. Without talking, or looking at him, he knew Ron’s father sympathized and felt for him. He knew Arthur and Lilah both felt he had made the right decision, and that helped. Sometime in the morning, he fell into a heavy sleep, still conscious of that human comfort, although never having acknowledged it.