Harry knew he should have told Hermione and Ron that he was leaving. He did, after all, agree to bring them along if he left the school grounds in his quest, but this trip wasn’t about the Horcruxes. So he didn’t feel quite as bad about leaving without them, though he knew he’d catch an earful from Hermione when he got back. He did, however, send McGonagall a note telling her that he was leaving the school grounds.
It didn’t take Harry long to navigate his way out of Hogwarts. As soon as he was able, he Apparated and found himself standing in a dark and unfamiliar place. The smell of sawdust and paint thinner assaulted his nose. Harry lit his wand and held it high above his head trying to pierce the fog that hung heavily in the air. He noticed that he had landed right in the middle of a sea of boats that reached as far as he could see each in various stages of construction. His destination must have been off a little, because he was supposed to have apparated near the Torridge River. He had done some research on the tiny town the day before and knew that the address he was looking for could be found on the waterfront.
Harry carefully maneuvered around the boat yard, but even using his wand for light, it was difficult to see his way in the soupy mist. Once outside the gate, he saw a path leading to a string of yellow floating orbs in the distance. The sound of a ferry’s horn coming from that direction was enough of a sign for Harry to venture toward the lights. As he got closer, he realized that the orbs were in fact a string of lampposts following along the bank of the river. The yellow light reflected off a narrow street that rested beneath them. Taking a guess, he turned left and walked along the road, reading the street signs as he passed.
As he walked, a sharp wind tussled Harry’s already messy hair, making him pull his cloak tighter. He stuck his half frozen hands deep into his pockets and shivered. The cold night air was starting to chill him to the bone, but he shook it off. He was determined to continue. The cold reminded Harry of his venture into the Chamber of Secrets two days ago. The place had been down right chilly. Strange he had not remembered it being that bad when he went there in his second year.
If the trip down the memory lane hadn’t been bad enough, the disappointment at not finding any traces of the Horcruxes was even worse. He had been so sure that they would find something down there, but after nearly five hours of searching the only thing they had found was a rotting corpse of the Basilisk he had killed years earlier and a massive amount of debris from the cave in.
Something about the whole thing, however, just didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t quite figure out what exactly. Everything had seemed like he had left it before, but there was still something that he felt he was missing, and the more he though about it the more certain he became. He’d have to make a point to go back there. This thought sent another chill down his spine.
Though no matter how bad he had felt about it, Hermione had taken their fruitless search to the Chamber worse than Harry. She had spent most of the last two days in the library throwing herself into a fervor of research, only to come out for classes and some meals. Ron had tried to cheer her up, but everything he said only seemed to make it worse, so he quit trying. Then, he got the bright idea of inviting her to the Gryffindor Halloween party. The last Harry saw of them they were sneaking out of the portrait hole giggling and going off to who knew where. How Ron had managed to peel Hermione away from her books was beyond him.
Harry smiled to himself as he checked the next street sign, Gordon Lane. The houses where getting further apart. Soon he would run out of streets. He had to be getting closer. Five street signs later, revealed Croxley Avenue. Harry turned onto the road and saw three houses lining the circular street. He came up to the first house, 7930. He passed the second house, 7931 and went straight to the third, 7933. Where was 7932? Suddenly, right before his eyes, another house sprang into view pushing its way into existence between 7931 and 7933. This was it. This was the place Snape had told him to go.
The obvious use of the Fidelius Charm sent off a warning bell in his head. Whatever was in that house was important, important enough to hide, but from who? He still couldn’t understand why he was here, but he had to know. He had to know why Snape wanted him here. Harry’s curiosity propelled him past the waist high gate and down the front path, all the while knowing that it could be a trap. He lifted his arm to ring the door bell when the door in front of him was jerked open violently. Harry wasn’t sure what he had expected, but nothing could have prepared him for who stood just beyond the threshold.
I’m sure you have already heard that I am no longer in Azkaban. Meet me tonight at midnight. You know the place. We have much to discuss. I will be there until sunrise. Do not disappoint me.
Draco Malfoy reread the letter for the fifth time, trying to make sense of it. It had been months since he had last heard from his father. It had been at Hogwarts before that whole fiasco with Dumbledore had happened. He remembered receiving a letter from his father telling him how proud he was of Draco for taking the Dark Lord’s mark, but not in so many words because the prison guards read all outgoing and incoming mail. The Malfoy family had worked out a coded system they could use to talk freely in their letters.
Draco absentmindedly stroked the still sore spot on his arm where the mark rested. Snape had given him a potion to help dull the pain. Ever since he had gone into hiding, Voldemort had used the connection to cause him great pain and discomfort. Obviously it was his way of trying to draw Draco out and punish him at the same time.
In some ways, he wished he could go back and change what had happened that fateful night. He wasn’t sure what he would have done differently, but anything would be better than this. He was tired of being cooped up in this house, but Snape had made it clear to him that if he so much as set a foot outside the protected walls, Voldemort would find him. So he stayed, but he wasn’t happy about it.
The note he had received from his father only made things worse. After months in prison, he had finely gotten out and he wanted to meet Draco. How could he say no to his father?
“If you want to survive, you have to do exactly as I say, or the Dark Lord will find you and kill you,” Snape had yelled at him more than once.
But that had been before, before his father had gotten out of Azkaban. Things were different now. His father might need his help. No doubt the Ministry officials were looking for him, and the Malfoy family wasn’t exactly on the Dark Lord’s good side these days. What if he’s in trouble and needs my help?
“Do not trust anyone and do not leave this house.” Draco shook as he remembered the harsh tone in Snape’s voice. He was used to the man’s abrupt behavior, but something in his voice struck fear into him. This was serious and his life depended on how he followed this man’s orders. He had saved his life, after all, so why not trust him.
Draco shook his head and paced the floor tapping the note in his left palm. Why did he even care what Snape thought or said? This was his father. Snape would understand and even if he didn’t, who cares. It wasn’t like he was even around. According to The Daily Prophet, he was stuck in some windowless room on a remote island. Maybe he even had the same cell that his father had occupied.
Snape’s words rang once again in his ears, “I will come back to check on you, but you can not leave this house!”
Draco scoffed. Come back? Yeah right. What am I to do now? He couldn’t stay in this house indefinitely. He only had enough supplies to last another month, tops. So what was an empty promise going to do him then? Nothing, absolutely not a thing, was what it would do.
Do not disappoint me.
His father’s words haunted him. They beckoned to him and made his desperation evolve into resolve. What else could he do? He stopped pacing and looked at the clock on the mantle. It was almost 1:00. His father had been waiting for nearly an hour. There would be hell to pay. His father always hated it when Draco was late for anything.
Without another thought, Draco whirled around and quickly left the room. He grabbed his cloak from the hallway closet and yanked open the front door.
He was taken back to see someone on the doorstep, but he was even more astonished by who it was. Several very long and awkward moments passed as he stared into the emerald eyes before him. He was surprised when he heard his voice, “What are you doing here, Potter?”
The dark haired youth before him looked as surprised as he felt, but he was quick to respond, “What are you doing here?”
Draco sneered, “I asked first, Potter.”
The other hesitated before speaking, “Snape sent me.”
Draco snorted, “Why would he do that?”
“Maybe because he’s in Azkaban?”
Draco knew this, but pretended not to care. The last thing he needed was, Potter to rub it in his face. He started to close the door, but something kept it from shutting. Potter had stuck his foot to keep it from closing.
“Move it or lose it, Potter,” Draco growled.
“Whether you like it or not Snape sent me here, and I’m not leaving until I find out why. Do you mind letting me in?”
“Yes,” he hissed.
“Malfoy, open up!” Harry raised his voice.
Draco felt the door being pushed inward. He was caught off guard by the sudden thrust and was slammed against the opposite wall. He looked up in time to see a tall silhouette just before the door closed. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw Potter standing over him, his wand drawn and pointed it at Draco.
“What are you doing here, Potter?”
Harry felt a wave of shock and surprise wash through him. He definitely hadn’t expected this.
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked first, Potter.”
Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. Should he tell him the truth, or make up a quick lie. No, he had to tell the truth, how else would he have gotten to the front door. Even though it pained him to say it, he heard himself say, “Snape sent me.”
Harry could see the disbelief in Draco’s eyes at his words. He should have come up with a lie. Too late the damage was already done.
“Why would he do that?”
Why would he do that? The question bothered him and made him curious all at the same time. Something inside him told him it would be prudent to find out why. Something just didn’t feel right about the whole thing. He then realized that maybe Draco didn’t know, “Maybe because he’s in Azkaban?” Harry shrugged.
Harry could tell that he had hit a nerve. Strange, Draco looked almost scared. This made the unsettled feeling in his stomach grow. He needed to find out what was going on.
Draco started to close the door on him. Harry panicked. This couldn’t happen, not until he got his answers. He reacted quickly and stuck his foot in the door to prevent it from closing.
“Move it or lose it, Potter.” He could hear the irritation in the other’s voice.
He was not about to give up yet. “Whether you like it or not Snape sent me here, and I’m not leaving until I find out why. Do you mind letting me in?”
“Yes.”
“Malfoy, open up!” Harry was getting upset now. He knew Draco would not willingly help him, so he decided to force the issue. He pushed against the door with all his strength hoping it was enough to make the door give. It was. The door flew open.
Harry heard a loud thump as Draco was tossed into a wall. He took the opportunity and quickly stepped in the house, closing the door behind him. He drew his wand and trained it onto the blond in front of him.
“Look, I know you don’t like me and I certainly don’t like you, but something is going on here and I need to know what. Are you still working for Voldemort? Is this one of his hideouts?”
Draco slowly pulled himself up off the floor. He looked like he had eaten something sour, but he did not say a word.
This propelled Harry forward. He grabbed a hold of Draco’s collar and used it to push him back against the wall. The youth sneered at Harry and spat out, “Yes, this is Voldemort’s headquarters and if you don’t leave now you’ll end up dead. Here comes part of the death squad now,” Draco nodded his head to something behind Harry.
He turned his head to see what Draco was talking about, and knew as soon as he did that he’d made a mistake. Harry could feel a knee hit his stomach. He doubled over in pain and fell to the floor. Harry struggled to get back on his feet, but knew it was too late. He looked up to see Draco with a wicked smile pointing his own wand at Harry.
“Your pathetic, Potter. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. And for your information, I’m the only one in this house. And Snape is the only one who knows where this house is. He is the Secret-Keeper after all. So that leaves me with one question. How did you find this place?”
“I told you. Snape gave me the address. You said it yourself. Snape was the only one who knew about this house. So how else could I have found out about it? Oh, and for the record, you’re not so quick yourself.”
Harry grabbed a hand full of dirt from the dusty floor and flung it into the other’s eyes. Draco stumbled backwards and Harry took the opportunity to yank his wand from the flailing arms. He stood his ground as Draco came at him. Harry thought a word effortlessly and a stream of ropes appeared binding the blond from head to toe. Harry stood over the struggling form.
“This is getting a little old don’t you think? I didn’t come here for a fight. Well, I don’t know why I came here. I just want some answers, and you’re going to give them to me. So we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s your choice. So what’s it going to be, Malfoy?”
Harry sat back in the armchair, soaking in everything he had just heard. Some of it was crazy and most of it was down right unbelievable. But Harry knew from experience that the truth could be crazier than fiction. A lot of what Draco had told him did add up, and it explained some of things going on. But the cautious side of him still doubted Malfoy was telling the truth, after all how can you disregard years of distrust just like that?
“Okay, let me see if I understand. You joined the ranks of the Death Eaters to make up for your father’s blunder at the Ministry in our fifth year. Voldemort gave you the mission of killing Dumbledore. You chickened out at the last minute, so Snape killed him instead because he made an Unbreakable Vow to your mother. I knew all of that. And I guessed that when you refused to kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would get pissed off. So, since he couldn’t find you, he killed your mother, and threatened to kill you and your father.
“This part is where it gets a little hazy. Snape decides to take you under his wing and hide you from Voldemort by placing the Fidelius Charm on this house. He then says you can’t leave the house without Voldemort finding out where you are. He knows this because he’s now one of Voldemort’s high-ranking followers, since he completed the job you refused to do. Then your father escapes from Azkaban and is known to be part of the attack on Hogsmeade. He sends you a letter saying he wants to meet you.”
“That’s right. What part don’t you understand?”
“The part where you’re even considering meeting your father,” Harry couldn’t help, but roll his eyes.
“He’s my father, why not?”
“Well, maybe because it’s a trap.”
“No, it isn’t. My father would not do that!” Draco stood up and curled his fist up near his sides.
Harry couldn’t believe the level of stupidity coming from the youth across from him. “Malfoy, how thick are you? His first and only priority is his master.”
“No! He probably just wants to know if I’m all right.”
Harry threw up his hands. “Do what you want, but he is the last person you should trust.”
“And I should trust you?” Draco hissed through clenched teeth.
“Like I said, do what you want, but don’t think I won’t say I told you so when you go to meet up with dear old dad and he’s wearing a dark robe and a white mask.”
“I don’t know why I even bothered telling you anything! Get out! Get out now!”
“Whoa, I’m just telling you the truth.”
“No, your not! You hate my father. You hate my whole family! You wish us all dead! Why should I even listen to anything you say?” Anger flashed dangerously in the blonde’s eyes.
“Malfoy, just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I wished you and your family dead. Well, maybe your dad…” As soon as Harry said it, he knew he had gone too far.
“OUT! GET OUT! NOW!”
“Fine,” Harry stood up. He hesitated a moment to say something, but thought better of it and walked out of the room, leaving a very furious Draco staring daggers into his back.
Draco absentmindedly stroked his wrist as he looked at the person sitting across from him, his arms where still red from the ropes that Potter had wrapped around him earlier. The memory was humiliating and degrading. The anger was still fresh and growing with every time he looked at those disgusting emerald eyes. He didn’t know why he was even bothering to talk to the git. But deep down he knew he needed help. Snape was gone and, as far as he knew, Voldemort was waiting to take him out. He bit his tongue, hating himself for thinking Potter an ally of any kind. Against his better judgment and instinctive drive to pound the living daylights out of him, he stared to tell Potter his story.
“Okay, let me see if I understand. You joined the ranks of the Death Eaters to make up for your father’s blunder at the Ministry in our fifth year. Voldemort gave you the mission of killing Dumbledore. You chickened out at the last minute, so Snape killed him instead because he made an Unbreakable Vow to your mother. I knew all of that. And I guessed that when you refused to kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would get pissed off. So since he couldn’t find you; he killed your mother, and threatened to kill you and your father.”
“This part is where it gets a little hazy. Snape…”
Draco fought back tears that threatened to spill at the mention of his mother. He had desperately tried to push her to the back of his mind. Sadness tore at him every time he realized that she was no longer around. That he would never be able to hear her soothing voice or feel her comforting arms around him. When she was alive, he had always pretended to be tough and push her and her kind gestures away. He regretted that now. If only he could go back and do it all over again, oh how he would do things different. It was strange how you never really appreciated things until they were gone forever. Draco fought to push his mother back to the recess of his mind where she belonged, and focused on the words he was hearing.
“…now one of Voldemort’s high-ranking followers since he completed the job you refused to do. Then your father escapes from Azkaban and is known to be part of the attack on Hogsmeade. He sends you a letter saying he wants to meet you.”
“That’s right. What part don’t you understand?” Draco spit out defensively, hoping that Potter had not noticed his momentary lapse.
He seemed to be oblivious to it, since he answered without missing a beat, “The part where you’re even considering meeting your father.”
Draco shrugged, “He’s my father, why not?”
“Well, maybe because it’s a trap.”
The anger he felt from earlier was slowly coming back. Potter just didn’t understand. His father would never do such a thing. “No, it isn’t. My father would not do that!” Draco stood up and curled his fist up near his sides.
Potter scoffed, “Malfoy how thick are you? His first and only priority is his master.”
“No! He probably just wants to know if I’m all right.”
“Do what you want, but he is the last person you should trust.”
Draco narrowed his eyes as he clenched his fist even harder, “And I should trust you?”
Potter shrugged. “Like I said, do what you want, but don’t think I won’t say I told you so when you go to meet up dear old dad and he’s wearing a dark robe and a white mask.”
Something inside Draco snapped. Maybe it was the heat from the fire in the nearby hearth, or maybe it was the stress from the last few months starting to catch up to him. Or just maybe he realized that he was sitting here pouring out his problems to someone he hated, “I don’t know why I even bothered telling you anything! Get out! Get out now!”
Potter held up his hands. “Whoa, I’m just telling you the truth.”
“No, your not! You hate my father. You hate my whole family! You wish us all dead! Why should I even listen to anything you say?”
“Malfoy, just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I wished you and your family dead. Well, maybe your dad…”
“OUT! GET OUT! NOW!” Draco screamed, as pure rage made his body shake.
“Fine,” Harry stood up and walked out of the room.
Once he was gone, it took Draco several long minutes to calm down enough to unclench his fist and breathe. Everything was falling apart and it was all Potter’s fault. It felt good and right to blame him for everything. It made the ache in his heart lessen somewhat, but not completely.
Draco looked around the room in a daze, wondering what to do next. Where should he go? What should he do? Why was his world coming unraveled like this? What did he ever do to deserve this?
A glint of white caught Draco’s eye. He noticed his father’s letter sitting on the table he had set it before being interrupted by Potter. Draco went to pick it up. A million thoughts rushed through his head making it throb. But four words kept coming back to taunt him, do not disappoint me.
Draco squared his shoulders. He had made up his mind. He set the letter back down on the table, picked up his traveling cloak from the back of a chair and walked out the front door. He still had at least an hour before sunrise.
Draco shivered in the early morning breeze as he picked his way up the overgrown path. Light was starting to peek over the distant horizon. He picked up his pace to a jog. Draco soon came to the crest of the hill and saw a figure silhouetted against the dawning light. Draco smiled and started to run. It had been so long since he’d seen his father. A wayward tear traced its way down his cheek as he topped the hill. He stopped and looked at his father, not knowing what to say. But there was so much he wanted to say.
His father turned and looked at him, his face hard and emotionless, “What took you so long?”
Draco looked down at his feet, suddenly embarrassed for his emotions and upset at himself for not coming sooner. He didn’t want to upset his father. He stood still hoping that the moment would pass.
“I’m disappointed in you, Draco.”
Draco’s head flew up at this. His heart fell to his feet as he wondered how he had messed up this time, but he already knew the answer to that question. He cringed inside, and wished he could go back and do things differently. Why could he never earn his father’s approval? When will it be enough?
“Our master is very upset. And he has taken your mother as payment, and now he wants you, too.”
“Father…”
“I’m sorry son, but it was the only way.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Forgive me.”
Draco watched in disbelief as his father raised his wand. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. He was hurt beyond words. How could he have been so wrong about his father? How could he do this to him? He could only think of one word to utter, “Why?”
His father shrugged, “It was the condition agreed upon in order for them to break me out of prison. You can’t even begin to imagine how terrible it is to suffer such an indignity and humiliation. A man would do anything to get out of such an uncivilized place.”
Draco’s vision started to blur as his eyes watered. Unshed tears kept at bay by his sheer will alone. His father hated to see weakness of any kind. Draco lifted his head as he spoke, careful not to let his voice crack, “Even your own son?”
“If that is the price, then yes.” His father’s voice was as cool as the morning air as he gestured to someone behind him.
The last thing Draco remembered seeing was a sliver of orange break on the horizon and bathe the valley below in warm light. It was the birth of a new day and it could very well be the last sunrise he would ever see. But this didn’t bother him as much as a deep dark feeling of betrayal creeping into his heart. He was truly alone in the world, as he was surrounded by a circle of robed figures.