Chapter 9
The next twenty minutes were the longest of Harry’s life.
Most-probably-Malfoy sat at the kitchen table in silence while Harry prepared a meal of beans on toast. When Harry placed it in front of him, he was thanked with a nod and more silence – that is, besides the sound of his broody chewing.
So when Harry heard his floo go off and his best friend call out for him before thundering down the stairs, he forgot he wasn’t supposed to be relieved.
“Harry! I just heard about the escape! Ron said you covered for some junior officer today for prisoner transport – were you there? Are you hurt, I-”
Hermione stopped mid-interrogation at the sight that met her in the kitchen.
“Hey, Hermione,” Harry grinned. “Want some toast?”
“Do I…is that …did YOU…DO I WANT SOME TOAST?! ” She bellowed. “Stupefy! Harry, tell me you did not orchestrate this prison break!”
Harry winced as the unconscious body of Corban Yaxley slumped in his chair. “He was being wrongfully held. He served his time,” he said, unapologetic.
“Is this about Malfoy? You broke about a million laws to help a convicted death eater escape Azkaban on a HUNCH?”
“You’re the one who said I was due an abuse of power. You know if you had just given me some veritaserum when I'd asked..." Hermione cut him off with a scathing look.
“Besides, it wasn’t a hunch. I…made sure first.” he said. Hermione narrowed her eyes. “How ?”
Harry grimaced. “Ok, so I don’t exactly have evidence …but I’m pretty sure. I asked him where we met?”
“YOU WHAT? Harry, any idiot who read one of those stupid Harry Potter biographies could have told you where you met Draco Malfoy.”
“In prison?” Harry asked, feeling slightly cowed.
“It was in the robe shop, actually,” Most-likely-Malfoy interposed, rubbing his head as he came out of his stupor.
“Not another word, or I’ll blow you to pieces!” Hermione threatened, wand pointed directly at his heart. The wizard raised his hands in surrender as Hermione glared at him.
“Hermione, he wouldn’t have been allowed through the wards if he had intent to harm me, you know that,” Harry reminded her, trying to defuse the situation. Hermione’s wand arm didn’t waver.
“You can use Legilimency,” the man suggested slowly, after a moment of tense eye contact with the fearsome witch. “Or a pensieve.”
Hermione scoffed. “Oh please, as if memories can’t be altered.”
Before he could say anything else, Hermione hit him with another stunning spell, and bound his hands and feet for good measure. After a moment, she conjured some tape and spelled it to his mouth. Then, she cast a Protego Maxima to separate him from her and Harry.
When she was satisfied with her work, she faced Harry. “They said he has a wand.”
Harry sighed and pulled it out of his back pocket, handing it to her. “He had a wand. I’m not that stupid, Christ.”
“Fine,” Hermione said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll have that toast now.”
Two hours later, Harry and Hermione were still arguing over how to handle the situation, when Ron arrived. He took one look at the scene, said “right,” and walked out of the kitchen.
Harry and Hermione continued, unfazed.
“I still say quizzing him is a smart tactic,” Harry insisted.
Hermione looked at him, incredulous. “Harry James Potter, do you think this is some kind of joke?”
“It was good enough for the Order…” he grumbled. Hermione just pursed her lips in the way that meant ‘don’t test me.’
“Hermione, you know I wouldn’t do something like this for no reason. If I’m right, and I’m inclined to believe I am…I just served justice! AND,” he continued before she could interrupt. “If he’s the real Malfoy then that means an actual evil death eater who should be locked up for crimes against humanity is out there right now rubbing shoulders with some of Wizarding Britain’s most powerful players. Don’t you think that if we can stop him, we should?”
Hermione looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then blinked. “No!” she said, all but stamping her foot. “Not without evidence!”
Ron returned a little while later with takeaway, providing them with a much-needed break. After dinner, with a bit of coaxing from Ron, Harry convinced Hermione to unbind the unconscious wizard.
“Ugh, what kind of muggle torture device was that?” he griped when Hermione yanked the tape off of his face.
Harry cocked his head in Hermione’s direction and raised a brow as though to say “see?” She huffed in irritation.
“If that’s not Malfoy, he’s certainly got his dramatics down pat,” Ron chimed in.
“Oh good, the gang’s all here,” the prisoner drawled, rubbing his wrists, sore from being bound for hours.
“This still doesn’t prove anything,” Hermione said, rubbing her temples in exhaustion. “So what do we do with him?” Ron asked.
“Well I thought we could hide him out in a safehouse for now-” Harry started, but Ron put an end to that plan real quick. “They’d find him in a heartbeat, mate. Aurors are out in droves searching for Yaxley. We’ve got every bureau in the isles on this – and outside help from the continent. They’re not taking it lightly. This is the second time Yaxley made a break for it, remember.”
“Right,” Harry frowned. He supposed he should have expected this reaction from the ministry.
“The only reason I’m not out there myself is because they sent me to check on you – I see you’ve healed nicely from the vicious attack you suffered,” Ron noted.
“Why would I need to be checked on?” Harry questioned.
“Er, they think he might be after you. They saw your name in the logs, know you visited him a couple times. They think he may be out for vengeance or something. Oh and that’s another thing, Robards is gonna wanna know why you went to see him those times.”
Harry sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But I’ve got two days before I have to go back – healer’s orders and all. I suppose that means Thursday.”
“Great,” Hermione said, standing up. “So you can watch him until then.”
“Wait, what? No, ‘Mione, he can’t stay here. There has to be someplace else-”
“Your fugitive, your responsibility,” Hermione responded matter of factly, striding out of the room without a backwards glance.
“He’s not my anything!” Harry called out after her. The fugitive in question snorted, watching the back and forth listlessly.
Ron got up to follow his wife. ““We’ll be back tomorrow to check on things. I really hope you know what you’re doing, mate,” he said quietly, squeezing Harry’s arm in goodbye.
With his friends gone, Harry turned his attention back to the man he was risking so much for.
“Well, thanks for the hospitality, Potter, but I think I’ll just be on my way…” he said, standing up on shaky bones. He collapsed back into the chair almost immediately.
Harry took him in properly for the first time since they arrived at Grimmauld, bruised and bloody himself with multiple head injuries, plus whatever was going on with his arm. Harry watched him wince slightly as he lifted it.
“Right, you can stay in the guest bedroom. There’s a first aid kit in the loo. Help yourself to any food I’ve got. There should be some spare pajamas in the dresser,” he said, signalling to the man he believed was Malfoy to follow him.
He hoped he was right.