Exile

It was still quite early and Hogwarts was just waking up, the Great Hall was slowly filling up with a few early risers already filling their plates, a muffled sleepy chatter was spreading between the long tables. 

Among the few students already standing were Draco and his friends.

“Why different colorss?” Harry had his cheek pressed to the table, looking at his glass and Pansy’s. “Green water,” he pointed to his glass. “Red water!” he pointed to the other one. 

Pansy frowned. “Water has no color, it’s the glass that make it look colored…” she said slowly. “Look at Draco’s, it looks purple.”

Harry immediately looked up to see. "Woow!" he exclaimed, fascinated.

“You… have you never seen colored glasses?” she continued, confused.

Harry shook his head vigorously. His black curls tossing from side to side.

“Things are a little strange at Durmstrang, aren’t they, Harry?” Draco intervened, nodding to the boy, who understood immediately and changed direction of his movement, immediately starting to nod.

Fortunately, the arrival of the owls prevented any more awkward questions. Letters rained down on the tables, and one owl in particular gracefully landed directly in front of Draco's plate. 

“Owl, beautiful!” Harry exclaimed, immediately reaching out to pet it, but the animal pecked at him forcefully. 

The Malfoy family's eagle owl was not pettable. He was very fussy and devoted to his work, and could not stand anyone who did anything with him other than deliver and receive letters. 

“Ouch,” Harry pouted and brought his bitten hand to his chest. “Badly done…”

Draco snorted a laugh. “Serves you right, Alward is a serious owl, he doesn’t let just anyone pet him,” he said, finally taking the letter from its beak. The owl flew away with a flap of its wings.

“But he usually lets his family touch him,” Blaise commented absently. “He shouldn’t have bitten Harry…”

“Hurt hand…” whimpered the injured man.

“Harry’s not a direct cousin, we’re distantly related, you know how it is with pureblood families…” Draco began to unroll the parchment “It’s all a tangle.”

“The drama is part of him anyway,” said Pansy, who had begun to gently massage Harry’s hand.

Draco laughed a little. 

He opened the letter and began reading. 

Dear Draco, 

I have heard disturbing rumors about your first day at school. I remind you that the Dark Lord has eyes inside the castle, even within walls you think are safe. 

I also hope you are starting to work on the Vanishing Cabinet, time is running out. It is of the utmost importance that you repair it as soon as possible. The Dark Lord is impatient, and his gaze is constant. You cannot fail. Every wasted day takes you further from your goal.

In December, when you return, it will be time. I have tried to postpone it as long as possible, but he does not want to wait any longer. The mark will be granted to you, as a symbol of your loyalty. 

Never let your guard down.

-Lucius Malfoy.

Draco couldn't breathe anymore.

He was convinced that he could wait at least until graduation, he still had that childish thought that by then the war would be over, that the mark would remain only a forgotten threat, but time was up.

He was gasping for air, his lungs on fire. Draco went pale. His fingers trembled as he clutched the now-crumpled sheet of parchment, almost tearing it. His vision blurred for a moment, his heart pounding in his ears. He had to get out. Now.

He jumped up, bumping into the table and knocking the plates together. The chair clattered to the floor.

Harry looked at him worriedly. “Everything okay?”

“Stay here.” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

And without waiting for an answer, he strode away from the Great Hall. He ran away, headed he didn't know where, he wanted a secluded place. He just wanted to disappear.

He ended up taking refuge in the first bathroom he found, immediately locked himself in one of the cubicles and vomited, his body shaking with retching. He clung to the walls of the bathroom, trying in every way to make contact with reality. 

He tried to calm himself, to take deep breaths, but his mind kept coming back to that: he will be marked in December. He retched again.

He began scratching his left arm furiously, his nails leaving long red scratches. Maybe blood came out. He wasn't sure, he couldn't focus.

Each scratch seemed to calm his heart more and more, until it no longer felt like it was about to leap out of his chest. 

Slowly he got up, his arm was burning.

He opened the cubicle door. He went straight to the sink to throw some ice cold water on his face, when two faces appeared in the reflection of the mirror.

“Nice hiding place, Malfoy,” said Fred Weasley, or perhaps it was George.

He whirled around. “You? What are you doing here?” he growled, trying to sound more menacing than he felt. 

“What are we doing? Studying, seven year, part two!” One replied.

“Yes, Hogwarts loves us so much that it has decided to keep us here another year,” said the other with a dramatic shake of his head.

«A personal sacrifice»

«A gift for the school, really»

Fred slowly moved closer until Draco was almost caged between the sink and his body.

“Go away.” Draco tried to break free, to reach for his wand, but George was faster. In an instant he was disarmed. “What do you want?”

“We just want to have a chat, don’t worry,” Fred said. 

“You know, we didn’t like what our little brother told us,” one of them began.

"No, we didn't like it at all, no one threatens our family and goes unpunished" concluded the other. 

“We could have joined the resistance a while ago, but you know, we have two little brothers in here.” 

“It’s for them that we stayed despite failing, and we can’t allow anything to happen to them that… what was the word, Fred?”

"Unforgivable" 

«Exactly, unforgivable!»

Draco stood there, silent. He was helpless, he couldn't afford to speak and make the situation worse.

Fred took another step forward.
“You know, we’ve always loved mystery, and there’s a lot we don’t understand about you this year.”

George also approached. 
“Like, why has no one ever heard of this cousin of yours?”

“But we’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he really is your cousin, maybe he’s not, but you’re definitely hiding something.”

Draco stared at them, impassive.
“You have no proof.”

Fred laughed. “Oh, we’ll find them, you can be sure of that.”

"But don't worry, for now everything will remain between us. But try to twist another hair of our sibling and we will sing like sirens"

And then they were gone, leaving Draco with his heart pounding, and the ever-growing feeling that he was about to lose control of everything.

All week, Draco had the unpleasant feeling of being watched, as if someone was taking note of his every step, word and action.

Maybe he was paranoid, maybe he wasn't, but he couldn't afford the luxury of doubt. Not with his father's letter still burning in his back pocket. Not with Fred and George Weasley seemingly stalking him everywhere. Draco felt like he was going mad, but he could sense them, their watchful gazes in the Great Hall, their identical orange hair hidden behind every tapestry.

Draco tried to spend as little time as possible in the corridors, quickening his pace every time he passed a red-haired student.

“Why are you always running?” Pansy blurted out one day, trying to keep up with him and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “No one’s chasing you, stop!”

Draco didn't answer and walked even faster.

He hadn't told anyone about that meeting in the bathroom, or the letter, or the Mark. 
Pansy and Blaise were good friends, but they were still naive. They weren't involved in the war like Draco was, there were many things they wouldn't understand. 

So he remained silent. It was strange for Draco, so used to being the center of attention, to being considered the prince of Slytherin, with everyone afraid of him. 

He was barely eating, his father's words kept buzzing in his head, clogging his stomach.

The worst was during Potions class. Snape was there, looking at him with those black, empty eyes, as if he knew exactly how much time he was wasting. As if he was just waiting for the right moment to take him aside and question him about everything, ready to report anything to the Dark Lord. 

And meanwhile, with each passing day without progress, the pressure became unbearable.

Determined to find a way to lose the twins, one afternoon right after class he took refuge in the darkest part of the library, checking a thousand times that he was not being followed. 

He began to compulsively leaf through spell books, pages and pages of useless formulas. Nothing that really worked.

Harry sat a little further away, his defense assignments spread out on the table, but he seemed more interested in making paper-folding animals than finishing his essay. Unfortunately, his writing skills were not the best. 

“Draco?” Harry asked, a little too loudly for the library. “What looking for?”

Draco quickly silenced him by putting a finger to his lips, then he moved closer and lowered his voice. “We need something to cover our tracks, I think there’s a spell to do that…” he whispered softly as he leafed through the books.

"Like... invisible?" 

Draco snapped the book shut. “What do you mean? Do you know a way to make yourself invisible?” he asked, trying to contain his excitement. 

“Yes!” Harry’s face lit up, he was really cute when he smiled like that. “Look!”

And with a wave of his wand, Harry was gone. 

Draco lunged forward, reaching out to touch an invisible shoulder. Draco had tried this before, of course, but to little avail. The outline of his body remained clear and visible, too opaque to be of any use. But Harry... he was completely transparent, no one could see him. 

“Wow…” he murmured, “This is perfect!”

Harry reappears a moment later, still smiling and proud. 

A disillusionment charm, obviously. Draco had never seen one performed so well. 

"He taught me. To hide me." 

There was no need to ask who he was.

“Thank you, you’ve solved a big problem,” Draco said. And then, without thinking, he hugged him.

It had been a hell of a week. It was a good feeling to finally feel like something, someone, was on his side.

Harry immediately returned the contact, patting him on the back.

"You're happy now, aren't you? No more sad."

Draco laughed softly. “Yes, I am.”

Only after Draco pulled away did he realize what he had done. He cleared his throat, quickly looking away and returning his attention to his books. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry, who seemed very calm. He had even gone back to folding the parchment to complete his puppy.

Draco cleared his throat. 
“Then we’ll start work on the Vanishing Cabinet tomorrow night, okay?”

Harry nodded, too focused on making the dog's nose to pay much attention. 

They chose to sneak out at one a.m., when even the most diligent prefects had already finished their rounds and retired to their dormitories. 

It was strange and at times disturbing to walk around the castle at that late hour, even the paintings were silent. 

Draco was too scared to cast a lumus, so they staggered together in the darkness, side by side with their hands clasped. Harry had performed the disillusionment charm again, on both himself and Draco, making their bodies one with the darkness around them.

“He’s my friend,” Harry whispered as they passed a portrait of a sleeping peasant. 

More and more often, Draco wondered how a soul as pure as Harry's could remain untainted, despite everything. 

As they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor, Harry yawned widely. “Why are we working late? I’m sleepy…” he whispered, his voice low but close, so close that Draco felt the heat on his neck.

"Because there's no one around now. If they catch us, we're dead."

"Really dead?"

Draco hesitated for a moment. “Depends on who finds us.”

Harry made a thoughtful sound, as if he were thinking about the odds.

They arrived in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Fool. Draco began pacing. I need a place to fix something. I need a place to fix something. I need a place to fix something. 

Where once there had been a completely blank wall, a door had now appeared. Draco hurriedly dragged Harry inside. 
“Finite Incantem,” their bodies instantly returned to view. 

The Room of Requirement, just as the Dark Lord had mentioned, was huge, dark, and dusty. There were piles and piles of objects everywhere, mountains that had been built up over years of objects forgotten by students of all ages. 

The vanishing Cabinet stood tall and imposing among all the junk. 
It had a menacing look that only made the knot in Draco's stomach grow.

“sShall we fix that?” Harry asked, moving ever closer. Draco followed. 

“Yes...” He nodded. “It’s the same as the one you get at Borgin & Burke.” 

The inside of the closet was dark, pitch black, with a few cobwebs and cracks all over the wood.

“We need to get this fixed, get it back in touch with its twin,” Draco said, running his fingertips over one of the more pronounced cracks. “This one can’t complete the transition, we need to try to restore the connection.” 

"How do we do it?"

Draco pulled out all the books he had borrowed from the library. “Mending spells, magical reinforcement, rejoining. We need to figure out why it’s not working first, and then we can start thinking about fixing it…”

Harry groaned, throwing his head back. “soundss boring…”

They began by cleaning the closet from top to bottom, removing all the dust that had accumulated over time, thus revealing runes engraved on the bottom. 

They were unknown at the time, but Draco copied them onto a piece of parchment so he could study them later. 

Just to be sure, he tried activating it. He placed one of Harry's beloved origami peacocks on the shelf inside the wardrobe and closed the door. 

The central rune seemed to glow dimly, only to go out again half a second later. The other two showed no signs of life.

“Peacock still here.” Harry said, taking the paper animal back. 

“Harry, do you know anything about runes?” 

He put his thumb and forefinger together.
"Just a little, Voldemort taught that too." 

Draco knelt down to study the runes better. “What do you think the problem is? Any ideas?”

Thoughtfully, he bit his lower lip. “Maybe they’re old, ruined runes, useless runes.”

“So we just have to… recreate the runes?” It seemed too simple.

In fact, Harry shook his head. “We need to change runes, these aren’t powerful enough. And then we activate them.” 

"So... we look for new runes, compatible with the ones in the other cabinet, and then we recreate them, right?"

"Yes! But not easy" he said with a grimace "Activating the runes is very difficult, it takes patience, all the runes are different"

After nearly two hours of studying runes, Draco ended the battle. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open. “That’ll be enough for today.”

Harry, who was lying on the floor next to him, cheered, dropping the book on his face. "Finally! I'm so sleepy..." and he yawned, but ended up just stuffing a few pages of the book into his mouth, coughing like a madman.

Draco patted him on the back and laughed. “You really are an idiot sometimes…”

They quickly put all their books back in their bags, straightened their tunics and tried to get all the dust off them.

As Harry was about to cast the disillusionment charm again, Draco stopped him by grabbing his wrist. “Just… Thanks for helping me.”

“You are my partner, it is my duty.” Harry didn’t give him time to process it before he cast the spell, taking him by the hand and dragging him away, making them both disappear into the darkness.

The next morning, the late September sun was warming the Quidditch pitch with a golden glow, a light breeze cooling the air. The grass was still damp with dew, and a few quaffles were quivering in eager anticipation of being released from the crates.

In the middle of the pitch, the captain of the Slytherin team was trying to give some sort of speech to all the aspiring players. Draco shouldn't even be there, the role of seeker would surely be his, undisputed and untouchable since his second year, and yet here he was, wasting the entire morning just because someone had dragged him by force.

“Are you sure you want to try…?” he said, glancing at Harry, who was standing tall in his silver-green uniform, clutching Draco’s Nimbus as if it were sacred.

In truth, Draco was more grateful than annoyed. For the first time in a long time, he finally had something to think about that didn’t involve mysterious wardrobes or dark marks. Harry seemed at peace, too. Focused on just one simple, concrete goal: getting on the team.

“Yes! I used to fly all the time at home,” Harry replied enthusiastically at once, leaving Draco wondering how in Merlin’s name he hadn’t noticed someone flying around the grounds of Malfoy Manor. 

“Ehm, do you even know the rules of Quidditch?”

«No, but I learn!» 

Draco rolled his eyes, fighting back a tender smile.

By now, the captain must have finished whatever he was saying, because he suddenly began shouting orders. Draco was soon pushed into the stands, so he could watch the tryouts. He chose a fairly isolated seat and sat with his arms crossed, assessing his new potential teammates. 

When it came time for the beaters, the position Harry would try out for, someone took the seats next to him.

The Weasley twins, again.

“Oh well, the Slytherins are looking pretty fierce this year, don’t you think, George?” said Fred cheerfully, casually wrapping an arm around Draco’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, looks like they decided to change the beaters, finally” George replied with a fake smile.

Overhead, Harry was already in the air, launching bludgers and hitting each target with impressive accuracy. Each hit seemed to increase the captain's joy, who flailed his arms like a mad ogre.

Draco quickly pulled away from the grip on his shoulders. “You again? What’s this new obsession with me?” 

“Obsession?” George put a hand to his chest, mock offended. “We just want to see who we’re playing against next, Malfoy, pure and simple sportsmanship!” 

“Black seems like a worthy opponent, don’t you think?” the other twin said.

Harry was at his best. It was clear to everyone who would be the next Slytherin beater. 

“Harry certainly has talent, and now that you've seen it you can go.” Draco tried to get up, but two pairs of strong hands pushed him back down into his seat.

“All right, all right, no need to bother, we’ll go right away,” Fred chuckled, jumping to his feet, his twin following suit.

“Maybe we could take a tour of the seventh floor, what do you think?” George said, looking Draco in the eye. “I hear there’s a new tapestry, I think it’s called Barnabas the Fool.”

Draco's eyes widened. He coughed, almost choking on his own spit. "I don't know what you're talking about," he whispered faintly. It was a coincidence, it had to be, they couldn't have seen them, Harry's spell made them completely transparent, nobody couldn't see them.

“Sure, maybe you could ask your cousin... Black, I’m sure he’ll be able to refresh your memory on whatever you guys are doing up there.” 

“We’re not doing anything.” Draco gritted his teeth, his nails digging into the seat.

"Yes yes, whatever you want, but know that soon we will discover what you are hiding"

And then they were gone, leaving him alone again, the auditions coming to an end.

At least, Harry was accepted into the team. 

Later, when the sun had disappeared behind the towers of Hogwarts, Draco walked through the castle corridors, his head still filled with the dull thuds of the Bludgers and the Weasleys' hissing words. 

He had decided to retreat to the library, leaving Harry to celebrate his new position, but it was all in vain. The words were crossing before his eyes, too distracted to concentrate on the runes, and it was all the twins' fault. As if he didn't have enough to worry about already, he had to watch out for those two now, too.

By now it was evening, tired and with a terrible headache, he put everything away, hoping to be able to return to the dormitory without being noticed, but obviously it was not to be.

As he passed the Potions classroom, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Mr. Malfoy, one moment."

Apparently, he was not meant to be alone.

Holding back a sigh, he followed Professor Snape into the classroom.

“You’re very quiet compared to the past few years,” Snape said, taking a seat behind his desk. He motioned for Draco to sit down, but he remained standing.

“Of course, I have other things to attend to, as you well know,” he tried to hide the irritation in his voice, but thought he had failed miserably. 

“How are these other things going?” Snape persisted.

“I think I figured out why it’s not working, we’re working on fixing the damage.” He said, “Harry did most of the work, anyway.”

Snape pursed his lips, then nodded. “Well, the Dark Lord will be pleased to hear that.” 

“I’m sure. Is that all?” Draco took a step back but the professor called him back. He ran a hand over his face, he was tired, he just wanted to collapse into bed and not wake up for at least the next twenty-four hours.

“Not really.” Snape opened one of the desk drawers and pulled something out, placing it on the table between the two of them. “Give it to Harry.”

Draco was lost for words for a few seconds. “What… Why? What does he need that for?” He said, feeling the panic begin to set in.

Snape pushed the Death Eater mask toward Draco. “Next week is Hogsmeade weekend, Lucius will be waiting for Harry at the Shrieking Shack so they can Disapparate together.”

“Why?!” Draco screamed.

"A mission, unfortunately I don't know the details, I think the Dark Lord is starting to doubt my loyalty," he said through gritted teeth, "but I assume they'll want to target someone in the order."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Now go back to your common room, curfew will start soon." 

Draco didn't remember grabbing the mask, or even walking across the castle to the common room, or handing the mask to Harry. He must have, though, because when he opened the Daily Prophet, the damned mask was printed on the front page for all to see.