HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 4: On the Green [Harry/Draco, general]
Title: Better Than Revenge chapter 4, "On the Green" Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: general Summary: Draco uses the Protean Charm on Harry's DA Galleon to summon Hermione and Ron for help and advice.
A month's habit of sleeping lightly told on him: Draco woke early. Harry was still asleep, turned on his side and facing the other way. Draco could hear the steady sound of his breathing and feel the warmth he radiated. Despite the covers, Draco shivered. Would Harry even notice if he moved closer? He edged over, pressing his cheek against Harry's shoulder. Daringly he let his arm fall across Harry's waist. It was firm under his hand, reassuring. He suppressed a sigh. Really, there was no reason to think that because Harry had promised to help him find a place to hide, that he was already safe. It was just that, well, Harry had always managed to come out on top, hadn't he? A fact which had irritated Draco no end in the past, but now seemed as comforting as the solid body next to him.
He tried not to dwell on thoughts of that body and what he would like to do with it. Everyone at Hogwarts had known that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were going out, you could hardly turn a corner without seeing them together all spring. So Harry had offered to kiss him because... because why? Draco wondered. He hoped not for pity, that would be unbearable. Or out of curiosity, nearly as bad. But it could not be for the same reason he, Draco, had wanted that kiss, could it? Unless Harry was as good as concealing his feelings as Draco, and frankly there was no sign of that. Harry was as transparent as a ghost about some things, he could never have hidden such emotions, and this surreptitious embrace was probably the nearest Draco would ever get to what he wanted.
Letting himself enjoy the illicit closeness, he dozed a little, but woke again when he felt Harry stir. He pretended to be still asleep as Harry crept out of bed, peering through the lashes of his lowered lids to watch Harry get dressed. Draco knew that he should feel guilty for it, but he did not; Harry would never know, and who could say if Draco would ever get another chance?
Harry came back over and prodded his shoulder. "You'd better wake up if you want any breakfast."
Draco pushed away the duvet and got up, yawning. He took his time in putting on his clothes, even though he was starving again despite his enormous dinner. He rather hoped that Harry might watch, but Harry only sat there, tapping his wand impatiently.
At breakfast he asked about one of the things he had been curious about last night: what Harry was doing in this Muggle village. He could not think of anything that would draw Harry's attention here. The guarded answer Harry gave made Draco realize that he had touched a nerve, but he kept his mouth shut and followed Harry through the streets of Godric's Hollow.
When Harry passed through the gate of the graveyard at St. Ceneau's church, Draco guessed what he was there for, though it was not until Harry stopped in front of one stone marker that the reality really hit Draco. There were the names: James Potter. Lily Potter. Harry Potter. The Muggles must have thought Harry was dead too, even without a body to prove it. And Lord Voldemort was responsible. An image of Harry as a baby flashed into Draco's mind, with a mop of dark hair and an unscarred face. He felt a sudden loathing, stronger even than on the night of Dumbledore's death, for the Dark Mark on his arm and for himself for once having been proud to have it there. What had the Potters done to deserve death, leaving their son orphaned? Nothing. Only tried to prevent other wizards and witches from being killed. Lily Potter had been a Mudblood, but that was no crime in itself, only marrying a pure-blood wizard was. But if she had not, Harry would not be here... Draco found this line of thought very disturbing. Was he justifying what James Potter, blood traitor, had done?
Harry had knelt down on the wet grass that covered the grave, oblivious of Draco's presence. Awkwardly, Draco touched his shoulder, still seeing that picture of Harry as an infant in his mind's eye. It was clear that Harry wanted to be alone. Draco went back to wait by the gate, where yew trees shaded the muddy path.
Eventually Harry returned. His face was pale and he stumbled as he walked, almost as if he were blind. "Are you all right?" Draco asked. This was not the Harry Potter he had watched for years, confident, determined, disregarding ordinary rules. "Harry?"
Harry did not seem to hear him. "I need to find the vicar," he said.
The vicar? Confused, Draco pointed at the cottage behind the church. "Over there, I should think."
He was right, as it proved, and they were asked in and given cups of stewed-tasting tea. Draco was startled when Blackburn, the vicar, assumed that he and Harry were brothers – they looked nothing alike, after all – and even more astonished when Harry did not protest the assumption. Harry asked about his parents, pretending that they were his aunt and uncle, and the vicar rattled on about the Potters and the fire that had destroyed their house the night they and their son died. He paused, waiting for Harry to respond.
Since Harry was plainly too distraught to be polite, Draco stepped in, thanking the man for his information. After a while, Harry pulled himself together enough to make an excuse and they left, Harry leading the way back to The Boar and Apple. Draco could tell that Harry was extremely upset that his parents' house was destroyed and decided to leave him be until he was ready to talk about it.
At the pub, though, rather than referring to what he had just seen and learned, Harry said abruptly, "Ready to try charming that coin, then?"
Draco opened his mouth to respond, but found he could not say anything. How could Harry just... go on? Set aside his family? It took another try before he managed to answer, "Yeah. Whatever you say, Harry." He hoped that he had been right and that he would be able to duplicate Granger's spell, or at least close enough for it to work. He hated to look incompetent, ever, and it would be particularly mortifying to fail now.
"I'll go fetch it," Harry said. "Wait here. Or – no – over there." He pointed to a bench on the village green, next to the inevitable Muggle war memorial. There was an ancient stone cross there too, its arms broken short and the whole thing so worn that it looked rather like one of the henge stones at Draco's home. He patted it almost fondly as he passed.
After a few moments Harry came back with the fake Galleon. He had Draco's wand tucked underneath his shirt too, along with his own, but said, "Can you do it without? We don't want to attract attention." Draco had noticed a few Muggles going into the chemist's, greengrocer's, and other shops. He could not fathom why Harry did not want to go up to the room, if he wanted to be discreet, but nodded anyway.
"I think so. I'll try. What do you want it to say?"
Harry frowned. "I'm not sure. Hermione only ever changed the serial number, to show when the next DA meeting would be. But if you just put today's date on it, and someone besides her or Ron saw it, they'd be confused and do who knows what. And Ron and Hermione might not guess what the change meant, either. It ought to be something only one of those two would know meant to come find me here today."
"They already know where you are, right? It's just a question of getting them to come a day early," Draco said. "So if I can make it say 'RW come at once HP,' for instance, that should work."
"Well," said Harry doubtfully, "anyone else in the DA would understand the message too, if they looked."
"But they wouldn't know where," Draco pointed out. "Or be likely to talk about it if it's clearly a private message."
"Yeah, only Ron and Hermione know where I am. And Ginny," said Harry, "she was there when we were talking about it. I suppose that's good enough, then. Go ahead."
Draco concentrated on the coin, focusing hard on the false serial number and willing it to change to the words they had chosen. The Protean Charm was difficult to begin with; Draco had never before tried it as a nonverbal spell. He gave a crow of triumph when the sentence appeared. "Got it!"
Harry reached over and took the Galleon from Draco's fingers. "That looks good; I hope that it worked properly and shows on all the other coins too. They're supposed to get warm, to alert people, but we have to hope that either Ron or Hermione is still carrying theirs or they won't even notice. It'll be a stroke of luck really if they see it today. The best chance we have, but if nothing has happened by, say, four o'clock, I think we'll have to move on and risk leaving some kind of message at the pub, and hope they think to ask there." Harry stretched out his legs in front of him. "They could show up any minute or not at all. So we wait." He tilted his head back and closed his eyes against the sun.
Waiting was something that Draco had learned to endure over the past four weeks; boredom was preferable to fear, if not by all that much. He did not fancy waiting in silence, though, not now that there was someone to talk with.
"Um, Harry?"
Harry turned his head slightly towards Draco, listening if not enthusiastic.
"Should I maybe not be around when Weasley and Granger arrive? If they do?" This was a question that had been bothering Draco since last night, when Harry had first mentioned that the two other Gryffindors were meeting him. He had nearly killed Weasley with that poisoned mead, and had deliberately insulted Granger on more than one occasion. With a pang he remembered Dumbledore chiding him for using the word "Mudblood." It must have been important to the old wizard, to get sidetracked like that when his life was at stake. Harry might have agreed to help Draco, for what reasons Draco was still not sure, but that did not mean his friends would be so willing.
"No," said Harry, and Draco felt a rush of relief that cut off abruptly when Harry continued, "You should stay. And apologize, I think."
Draco's first reaction was to protest. A Malfoy apologize to those two? Unheard of. But... he had promised to accept what Harry asked him to do, in return for Harry's help. It was not just his own life at stake, after all, his family was at risk on his account. And helping Draco would put Harry in danger, and maybe Granger and Weasley too. Pride would have to be sacrificed for survival. He looked at Harry.
"I should apologize to you, too, Harry. I'm sorry for how I've treated you. Really I am." Draco knew that the unaccustomed words sounded stiff and begrudging, and only hoped that Harry did not take them as sarcastic. He wished that there were no need for apologies, and not just because he disliked making them; but he meant what he said.
Harry looked annoyed and embarrassed. "All right. I wasn't always exactly decent either. I used Sectumsempra on you without knowing what it could do."
"I tried Crucio," said Draco quietly. And he had known what the Cruciatus Curse did.
They were both silent then for a while. Draco wondered if Harry had some idea about where Draco might hide safely. He had already been thinking about it for weeks without any solution presenting itself. Maybe Harry was planning to rely on Granger coming up with something; galling though it had always been, Draco had to admit that she was the cleverest witch in their year, probably the best who had been at Hogwarts the whole time he had attended it. If there was an answer at all, she was his best chance at discovering it. Draco sighed. He would much rather have been obligated to Harry alone.
A nudge in his ribs roused him from his preoccupied thoughts. "Lunch?" said Harry. "Thought I'd go get us some sandwiches and crisps. Anything in particular you fancy?"
Answering, "You," although honest, seemed a bad idea. "Prawn and mayonnaise," said Draco. "Or cheese and pickle."
"Okay. Hang on, I'll be back in five minutes," Harry said, and ambled off. Draco watched as he disappeared inside one of the shops.
Not two minutes later, Draco heard voices behind him. Familiar voices. Familiar arguing voices.
"Of course he wants us to meet him here, Hermione, what else could it have meant?"
"But he's never learned the Protean Charm properly. How did he get it to work? You know that Charms was never Harry's best subject, he just squeaked into that E for his O.W.L.s. It could be a trap."
Of course Weasley and Granger would have to turn up now, when Draco was alone, without his wand which was still in Harry's possession. They would recognize him at any moment; best for him to speak first. He turned around. "Look who's here at last."
Granger was only a few feet away, Weasley just beyond her. Draco took a certain satisfaction in the dumbfounded looks on their faces.
"Malfoy." Granger's wand was in her hand before Draco could blink. "What have you done with Harry?" Weasley was a bit slower on the uptake, but within a moment more he was looming over Draco.
"Where is he, you treacherous git? What have you done to him?"
"Not a thing, Weasley, not a thing. He's off getting us some lunch." Draco pointed across the way. "See?"
Sure enough, Harry was emerging from the shop, carrier bag in hand. He spotted them immediately and dashed over.
"Ron! Hermione! Thanks for coming so quickly."
Granger raised her eyebrows. "You're welcome, Harry. What is all... this?" She shrugged the shoulder nearest to Draco.
"Ah. Um. He's on the run from Voldemort," said Harry. A chill ran through Draco at hearing the name so casually pronounced, and he saw that Weasley looked as uncomfortable as he felt.
"Harry, can we talk to you for a minute?" said Granger.
Harry set the bag down on the bench. "Go ahead," he told Draco. "There's a bottle of water for each of us too." He walked off with the other two Gryffindors.
Draco rummaged around and found a prawn sandwich and some salt and vinegar crisps. He could see Weasley's face, looking flustered, and Granger waving her hands earnestly. Harry's back was to Draco, and they were all too far away for him to hear anything. He opened the sandwich packet and took a bite. Not bad, if heavier on the mayonnaise than he would prefer.
One and a half sandwiches and a bag of crisps later, the three came back. "We'll go get something too," said Weasley, taking Granger's hand and marching off with her. Harry looked at Draco.
"And the verdict is...?" Draco said in a drawl intended to hide his apprehension.
"They'll help," said Harry.
"Guess that means I should be prepared to make my apologies." Draco watched Harry lick crumbs from his fingers.
"Guess so."
When, laden with sandwiches, Granger and Weasley reappeared, he did, managing rather more gracefully than he had done with Harry, in fact, despite meaning it less.
Granger seemed to credit what Draco said, whereas Weasley looked as if he were going to laugh with disbelief. Of course, it was Weasley who had nearly died.
"You don't have to love him, Ron, just accept his apology," Harry interrupted.
Weasley gave Harry a funny look. "Yeah, all right. Whatever, Malfoy. Just don't think this means I trust you any more than I did an hour ago," he said, and took a savage bite of his sandwich, dropping a piece of cucumber on his trousers.
"Now that that's over with – Draco, explain the situation," said Harry.
Draco had supposed that Harry had done so already. "I'm running from... You-Know-Who. Because I wouldn't kill Dumbledore, I failed the task he set me, so he wants to kill me now."
"So why not just go somewhere secret and hide?" interrupted Weasley
Draco shot him a withering look. "If it were that simple, do you think I'd be here? He can find me, if he tries hard enough, through this." He showed them his left arm with its livid Mark. "I don't dare stay anywhere more than one or two days."
Harry spoke then, much to Draco's relief. "When Dumbledore and Draco were talking, up on the Astronomy Tower that night, Dumbledore promised he would hide Draco and his family, if he didn't go through with it."
So that was why Harry had agreed to help, Draco realized. One of the reasons at any rate. For Dumbledore.
"Oh, Harry," said Granger. "So now you're going to do it instead, is that it?" She shook her head. "I don't know... we should talk to someone. Professor McGonagall, or Ron's dad, or someone."
"No," Draco said. "They wouldn't believe me. They'd want to have me held somewhere for a trial, for attempted murder, and I'd be dead before it could happen, I'm sure of that. Please, don't tell anyone else." He heard himself appealing to Granger with a sense of shock, but it was far less undignified than his words to Harry the night before.
Granger was nodding, and Weasley too. "Okay, we'll wait for now," she said. "But if we can't come up with anything soon, we'll have to tell someone. I'll see what I can find out about the Dark Mark, to start with."
"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry, and Draco echoed, "Thanks."
"Where are you going then, since you can't stay here?" asked Weasley.
"I don't know," Harry said. "Draco, did you have any ideas?"
"Afraid not," Draco admitted. "I've already been almost every place I could think of, all of my friends' and relatives' houses, or actually places near where they live. I couldn't risk actually going to any of them, You-Know-Who would have expected that."
"We can't go to the Burrow, Draco already has been there several times trying to find me," Harry said. "It would be too big a risk."
"You could come to my parents' house," offered Granger. Draco stared at her, and she shrugged. "Well, You-Know-Who would never imagine you would go there."
Stay with Muggles? In their house? It was not as if he had not slept in various Muggle gardens and toolsheds, but somehow this was different.
"Great idea," Harry said with enthusiasm. "It'll give us another day to plan."
"Wouldn't your parents mind?" said Draco cautiously.
"They'll be surprised, but I think they'll agree. I'll tell them that you're just passing through overnight, which is true," said Granger. "We've only the one spare room, though." She looked worried.
"He shared my room last night. It'll be okay," Harry said. Granger looked skeptical, although she said nothing.
"What can I do?" asked Weasley.
"You can help me do the research on the Dark Mark," Granger answered him firmly. Weasley looked mutinous, but kept quiet. Draco found that interesting and speculated that the two of them might be going out. If he had been in the Slytherin common room, he might have made a sneering remark to Zabini about a pure-blood truckling to a Mudblood. Here, sitting next to them and asking for their help, he squirmed a little bit at the thought.
"I'll go home and talk to my parents. Ron, can you tell yours that I'm going to spend tonight at home, but I'll be back at the Burrow tomorrow? Harry, you and Draco follow me in about an hour," Granger ordered. "No, wait. How will you get there?"
"Apparate," said Harry.
She looked worried. "But you're not licensed yet, either of you!"
"Hermione," Harry said patiently, "with the kind of trouble Draco's in, do you think that's really worth fussing about?"
"Oh, all right. I'll see you in an hour. You know where it is, don't you?" She hardly waited for Harry's nod. "Come on, Ron." The two of them stood up, looked around casually to make sure no Muggle was in sight, and Disapparated.
Draco let out a breath he had not known he was holding. Listening to the friendly banter between Harry and his friends, he had kept expecting them to vilify him, to make it plain that they were only helping him out of obligation and with extreme reluctance, and they had not. Once his apology had been accepted, they had treated what he said with as much respect and consideration as they showed each other. How different from most of the Slytherins. If Crabbe, for instance, had been in as much trouble as Draco was now, Zabini would perhaps have given him a hand, but jeering at Crabbe the whole time for being such a fool.
"I'd better get my things out of the room before we go," said Harry.
"Do you want any help?" Draco offered.
Harry hesitated. Draco almost wanted to take the suggestion back, but before he could speak, Harry said, "Yeah, okay. Let's go."