Dumbledore's Visitors
That night, both boys’ common rooms were exploding with excitement akin to when they had first had their names pop out of the Goblet.
In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all could hardly squeeze through the portrait hole as inside every inch seemed to be cramped with students milling around with drinks and cakes, who all erupted into ear splitting cheers and claps as they saw their golden boy Champion enter the room.
In the Slytherin Common Room, Draco climbed through the much larger space much more easily only to find Pansy and her girls ready to trample him, and barely squeezed through their screams alive before getting dragged off to tables of treats and drinks. He was surrounded by people he hardly knew cheering him on, dressed head to toe in scarfs and hats and other sorts of clothing praising him, and it felt good. It felt really, really, good.
Harry helped himself to more food than he’d had in weeks as he sat himself between Ron and Hermione, and smiled real and truly, able to enjoy himself at last.
Draco talked and laughed and drank and by all accounts acted his normal self again, as if all the pain his body still felt and his heart had gone through didn’t exist any more--as if the threats in his letter and glares from students didn’t exist anymore.
There was no one to annoy or taunt Harry when he was safely sitting on a couch in front of a fireplace.
There were no innocent looks hurting Draco’s heart when there was no one to bully as he sat on his own leather couch in front of a dark hearth with his legs kicked up on a table and arm wrapped around Pansy’s neck. But then his truly happy gray eyes with no hints of malice in them found a POTTER STINKS badge on the table beside his feet, and he felt as if his heart sank to depths it hadn’t even managed to get to since his name was called.
Because instead of saying just POTTER STINKS, the badge now read, “MALFOY is our king!” and “Say ‘Avada Kedavra’ to the other Champions!” with a crude drawing of himself firing the killing curse at Harry the last addition.
The badges had been a distraction to get his friends away from him, but now he realized, as he looked around at all the boys laughing while stuffing themselves with food and drink while the girls swooned, it had been an utter disaster attempt, and now the badges were becoming symbols of the bully he is trying to steer clear from, if only to get Dumbledore off his back.
So, that’s why he sprung to his feet and threw Pansy off of him, who was just puckering her lips for a kiss, and tossed the drink in his hands in her face before flinging the glass away and whipping out his wand.
"What the hell are you--" Blaise was cut off by the sudden surprise of Draco pointing his wand at the badge in front of him and lighting it on fire, before turning to glare at the boy.
"What is that Zabini?" He jabbed a finger at the badge the boy wore himself, who looked down at it and grinned, ignoring the chaos now occurring as Pansy screamed and wailed and her friends tried to dry her face and the boys scrambled to put out the fire, instead simply responding, focus still on Draco, "Oh this? Our new badges! I knew you'd like them–"
He lit the bright green circle pinned to Blaise’s chest on fire too, moving only to flick his wand.
"What the FUCK MALFOY?!" Blaise hollered as he quickly discarded his robes and attempted to kick out the fast spreading fire. "What's wrong with you?! You're the one who made these things in the first place. Merlin… It's like ever since Dumbledore made you get all chummy with Potter you've gone soft."
Blaise would soon regret speaking as Draco suddenly pinned him against the wall, forearm under his chin, wand pointed at his face, his own face contorted into an ugly sneer.
"You are going to make sure that all of those badges--all the ridiculous merchandise you’ve made behind my back--burn, you hear me?!” Instead of looking particularly intimidated, however, Blaise seemed to just be blinking and gawking in utter bewilderment at the blonde. “Malfoy… what’s gotten into you…” “You hear me?!” He pushed him harder, the tip of his tongue and his wand begging to cast a spell, but the boy nodded, and his pride forced him to let him go.
He then turned sharply on his heel, barked at Crabbe and Goyle to get out of his way as they attempted to approach with very confused expressions, and marched across the Common Room to the door. As he walked, he heard Balise mutter something about ‘knew they were falling from grace’ and his hand tightened on his wand, yearning to fire a spell, but he resisted the urge to, just barely, Professor Moody’s words flashing through his mind.
Never attack someone when their back is turned… He shivered. Never…
He burst into the dungeon halls and immediately realized he was screwed. It was after hours, Filch and Mrs. Norris were no doubt roaming the halls, and he didn’t have whatever Harry Potter did that allowed him to turn invisible last year when he’d attacked him, Crabbe, and Goyle with snowballs. He had nowhere to go.
That’s not true. His brain immediately supplied, and he grinned to himself before jogging up the steps on the way to the fourth-floor corridor he’d been spending so much time on lately, making sure to make as little noise as possible. Turns out the Room of Requirement was useful for more things than just dragon training; it made good bedrooms too.
-*-*-*-
The next morning, Harry woke up feeling rather strange, and it took a moment for him to realize the reason he felt a little weirder than normal was because he felt happy, an emotion he certainly didn’t feel commonly now. It was stranger when, despite the Task having happened yesterday and the other Champions being much more eager to talk to fans than they were, Harry and Draco continued to get gawkers and children pleading for signatures wherever they passed.
They also sat down at the Gryffindor table--it was a Slytherin shift day but for some strange reason Draco seemed very eager not to sit with them--and were immediately met with the angry face of Hermione and the bewildered face of Ron, which was shocking for very different reasons. For Hermione, she was often red faced but rarely this early in the morning, and for Ron…
Harry looked over at the blonde beside him, who looked utterly exhausted and still quite bruised, and immediately put two and two together.
“Oh, Ron… Er… Draco has been sitting with us since the whole Goblet thing because Dumbledore thought it would be the best course of action to get us to work better together. I uh… I hope that’s okay… with you.” It clearly wasn’t--the way Ron’s fist tightened around his fork when his friend used Malfoy’s first name said as much--but the red head found it in himself to restrain his anger, instead turning to face Hermione--rather aggressively--and ask, “What’s er… What’s up with you this morning?”
Hermione seemed to have been just bursting with a chance to speak as she cried, “What we saw last night of course!” to which Draco looked up from his eggs, fork still in his mouth, and raised an eyebrow. “What?” He choked out, though it was muffled.
Harry ignored him, instead groaning along with Ron as his friend stood up and started her very predictable rant about what it was they saw last night. “Slave labor, Malfoy. Slave labor. Of course you would know all about that seeing as how you were Dobby’s former owner.”
If Draco looked confused before, now he looked utterly baffled. “Excuse me?” “Don’t give me that look.” Hermione waved a hand, as if brushing him aside, before focusing in on her friends now to give the real meat of her rant. “They don’t deserve it, and you know that. All of you know that. Harry,” She frowned at him, placing her hands on her hips and glaring pointedly. “You of all people should understand. I mean the Dursley’s practically made you their slave. Also, unlike these blokes,” She glared over at the Malfoy and the Weasley boy beside her before turning back to the bewildered Potter. “You didn’t grow up in an apparently slave labor worshiping society. Did you?”
She paused, and so Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she was going on again in less than a second.
“No, you didn’t. So I can’t understand how you aren’t able to take my side in this. I mean honestly...” Hermione had gotten so into her speech now that Draco took this as his chance to get some answers, as he turned and tugged on Harry’s cloak sleeve, signaling for him to turn away too.
“What’s she on about?” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “Ever since she met Winky--Remember? Mr. Crouch’s house elf?” Draco nodded. “--She’s been on about the unfairness and mistreatment of House-Elves. She even made this thing called S.P.E.W and has been campaigning to an insane extent ever since. And yeah, it’s a good campaign but… Her methods aren’t.” Draco looked away, biting his bottom lip and feeling an intense amount of shoved down shame build up inside him as he thought about his former house elf.
He hated when this happened, and it had been happening a lot lately. If there was one thing the boy had learned to master and become excruciatingly skilled at over his short life it was pushing down his emotions. Giving them a shove and kick and becoming a cold bully, so that all the pained faces and teary eyes he saw on a daily basis wouldn’t hurt him. And it began with Dobby. One can’t possibly attempt to live around constant abuse and still love his parents if they didn’t know how to close off emotions and memories.
But it seemed that ever since that Goblet erupted with red flames for a third time, his pent up guilt had too. Extending a hand to Harry Potter… Burning the badges… And now he could feel long asleep shame rise up inside of him over an elf he hardly knew.
Merlin’s beard, what had become of him?
“BOYS!” The two teens jerked in their seats as Hermione yelled at them, turning back to her and slumping as they saw her temper hadn’t gotten better after a good rant. If anything, her face was a lot more red tinted. “Were you even listening to me?”
“Sorry Hermione…” Harry started to say, rubbing the back of his neck but Draco quickly cut in with, “Have you ever asked them what they want?”
Instantly, the muggleborn witch whipped her head around to face him, face contorted with rage. “Excuse me?” She asked as he repeated his question, showing no offense. “Have you ever asked them what they want?”
Instead of responding, which she seemed to be at a loss of how to do, Hermione instead laughed slightly to herself, folding her arms tight across her chest as she sat back down at the table, eyes narrowed to slits upon Draco. “That’s some bold talk coming from a House-Elf abuser,” She quirked an eyebrow up at him, the corners of her lips starting to tilt in a smirk. “Don’t you think?”
Draco had just opened his mouth to respond when suddenly one of the mail owls, whom had just started flooding the Hall moments before, swooped down and dropped a letter right between he and Harry’s plates. A lavender square, with a red ink stamp of the initials “A.D” The two glanced at each other, before eagerly picking up this opportunity to avoid Hermione’s pandering, and opened it up.
“What is it?” Ron asked as he began to shovel more eggs onto his plate. Hermione leaned over herself to get a look too, her angry face twitching just a moment to confusion.
“It's a letter from Dumbledore.” Harry supplied as his eyes scanned the page. “He wants us to meet with him in his office. Right now.” Draco finished, looking up and locking eyes with Harry, before grabbing his bag and starting to stand. The Gryffindor did the same, but not before apologizing and saying goodbye to his friends.
“It shouldn’t take long.” He said, as he slung his bag over his shoulder, wincing from the weight of the egg he’d stuffed inside it in the hopes of getting to speak to Draco about it. “See you at Hagrid’s!” He called over his shoulder, waving before trudging off out of the Hall beside Draco, who winced at his mention of the fact that they had Care of Magical Creatures soon.
Draco hadn’t been to Dumbledore’s as often as Harry had, so, naturally, he ended up following behind him as he led them up the stairs and down a few corridors, before arriving at the statue. Today, as he had written in the letter, the password was Candy Floss, but as they rode the stone gargoyle up to his office and walked towards the doors, Harry suddenly paused before his hand could touch the handle.
“What? What is it?” Draco asked, coming up to stand beside him and suddenly freezing as he heard what Harry must have heard, coming from inside the doors. Shouts, a lot of shouting, but from voices he recognized very, very well. And Harry did too. Some of them, at least.
“--on thin ice, Dumbledore. What were you even thinking, throwing children into the Triwizard Tournament… He could have died!” That was Lucius Malfoy, and he had never, not even when lecturing his own son, sounded this angry in Draco’s life. Harry thought it sounded quite similar to the Howler Molly Weasley had sent to Ron in Second Year, and it did indeed. Less loud, of course, Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t raise his voice louder than diplomatic arguing level in the right mind, but it contained the same amount of anger and icy coldness.
“I apologize for any fear or stress these events might have caused you both, but you must understand how necessary it has been for both your son and Harry Potter to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. It’s in the rules--” That was Dumbledore, sounding perfectly calm, as always, despite the raging people inside his Office with him, who were anything but of course.
“And we’ve always known you to be one to follow the rules, Dumbledore.” Harry didn’t recognize this woman’s voice, but he could tell Draco did, so he assumed it to be his mother, who was also speaking in a level voice, but one that was as icy as the North Pole. Narcissa Malfoy was clearly just as, if not more angry than her husband.
“When I say I have made as many efforts as I can to get your son and Harry to see eye to eye, in the hopes that maybe they’ll find a way to beat the Tournament together, I am telling the truest truth I have ever told. And it’s working. They survived the First Task--”
“And you are lucky for that!”
“--Only by working together. Lucius, Narcissa, please listen. I had no way of knowing either of those boys were going to come out of the Goblet. But I believe we all know who did…”
“How dare you!” Now that voice Draco recognized. His mother used it constantly, as she received scorn constantly. Those things tend to happen when you marry a person that anyone safe enough to avoid his manipulative money tactics hates, and are the sister of someone as cruel and ruthless as his Aunt. To an extent, he’s had to use that tone too. “Are you suggesting that we were behind the endangerment of our son? Our only son?” He’d rarely heard that tone from his father before, though.
“No. I’m merely suggesting that you weren’t behind it, but you do know who was.” There was a long pause, and a swishing of robes, as if Dumbledore was standing from his desk, before he spoke again, this time in a low voice. “If you can tell me who it is I can make sure no harm comes to Draco. Lucius… Please.”
Dumbledore sounded so sincere, so… sad, that it was almost shocking.
“I can’t, Dumbledore.” Mr. Malfoy said at last, and the tension in the room could almost be felt from behind the door by the eavesdropping boys. “It’s not safe.” Mrs. Malfoy added, and you could almost hear Dumbledore sigh.
“Draco, Harry… Come in.” The two boys gave each other a cautious glance, then Harry sighed and raised a hand to the handle once more and pushed the double doors open. They swung inward with a low creak before banging and rattling against the wall, leaving the room in awkward silence.
The Malfoy’s were both seated in front of Dumbledore’s desk, as many students had before them, and therefore looked decently strange as they were full grown and powerful adults, not children. But nevertheless, they sat there, and both turned their heads in confusion as the door opened, eyes falling on their son and his enemy, and widening in the appropriate show of surprise.
“Er… Sorry, Professor.” Harry blurted, feeling quite dumb and out of place as the trio of Malfoy’s seemed to be exchanging essay long speeches to each other with just their eyes. “We were just er… We just arrived.”
“Draco.” The blonde’s parents both said, and, as if in response, their son choked out, “Mother. Father.” Nodding to each of them in return, and seeming to notice how his voice shook as he coughed to clear his throat. “What are you… doing here?”
“We were just discussing…” Lucius started to say, clearly trying very hard to sound professional, but his wife didn’t have that same need for professionalism, clearly, as she pushed back the chair she sat in and practically flung herself at her son, hugging him tight with no hesitation.
“Hi Mom.” Draco breathed into her cloak, before returning the hug, and the two exchanged no words after that, simply hugging, and seeming to breathe in just the others presence, leaving the others in the room to feel quite awkward--Lucius not really knowing if he should break his formality and hug his son and Harry knowing he was quite out of place in this situation. Dumbledore, however, seemed quite comfortable as he picked up a lemon drop sitting in a bowl on his desk, unfurled the wrapper, and popped it in his mouth, smiling just slightly to himself.
Eventually, however, the two Malfoy’s had to let go as Draco whispered something in his mother’s ear and she nodded, kissing his forehead, before turning and walking back over to Dumbledore’s desk with her head low and her hand clasped around her son’s.
“Well, now that we’ve had introductions out the way--Harry, come in. Don’t be shy. I didn’t make a mistake, you are here for a reason and a good one now come here.” Dumbledore gestured for Harry to move forward and he did, though still awkwardly and with a slight stumble.
“Now… Boys… Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy… I have brought you all forward to discuss the matter of the Triwizard Tournament and the part you boys will play in it going forward. We are all aware that you have been brought here in regretfully strange circumstances, but, nevertheless, I hope we can manage to make sense of all of this together, and make sure two fourteen year olds--or one--will not lose their lives this year. Are we clear of this matter now, gentlemen? Lady?”
Everyone in the room nodded without the need to glance awkwardly at each other, though Harry still looked at everyone because he was the one with the most free will to, if nothing else.
“Wonderful! Now, so far I have made many pushes to get Draco and Harry to see eye to eye this year, and I say I’ve had fairly good progress. Somehow or another, though I can’t fathom how yet, these two managed to construct a highly successful strategy to not just pass the First Task but also come out with high marks. Both tied with two other champions for first and second, in fact.” Lucius leaned over to pat a hand on his son’s shoulder while Narcissa squeezed his hand, smiling up at him. He simply nodded, smiling back, but rather forced.
“Not only that, but I have pushed them into a stable friendship by having them work with each other in classes, take rotations at each other’s tables, and even have ‘friendly dates’ out to Hogsmeade. And I must say, they have seemed to enjoy it.” Draco and Harry made sure to pointedly look away from each other at that, Harry biting the inside of his cheek and Draco clenching the fist that wasn’t holding his mother’s hand.
“So, as you can see, I have no intent on harming your son, Lucius, Narcissa. In fact, I’ve tried my very hardest to make sure that doesn’t happen. The rules are the rules. There was no way they could be bent to have your son and Harry not compete. Now, any further attempts to find the culprit who did put these boys’ names in the Goblet--” The Malfoy’s each gave Dumbledore a warning glance. “--Will be made top priority from now on with or without your help--though I would still greatly appreciate it.”
“But,” He made sure he looked at each of the people in the room one at a time and carefully as he finished with this, “I must warn you. By request of my fellow judges we’ve decided that Draco and Harry will not be working as a team for the next Tasks. They will be entirely on their own, which will be a simple adjustment I trust due to how their points were separated and they hate each other so much, right boys?” Harry and Draco sent each other a glance but didn’t give any sign to Dumbledore besides that.
He paused then, and, clearly, Narcissa had seemed to take that as his dismissal of them, as she stood from her seat sharply. “Well, if that’s all then Lucius and I really must be leaving. Thank you for this meeting, Dumbledore, and please make sure my son stays alive.” She leaned towards him, placing her hands on his desk and whispering in an intimidating voice they all could hear, “For your sake, okay?” Before stepping back and straightening her robes, and nodding to Lucius, who stood as well.
“Have a good term, Draco.” Narcissa said as she hugged Draco one last time and kissed his cheek and forehead this time. “Be brave.” “Stay strong.” Lucius added, raising his cane and tapping his nose with it. “Eyes on the Cup. That’s the only way we can guarantee you survive.” He leaned in, and, whispering in his ear in a way that, unlike his wife, no one else in the room could hear, “Trust me.”
The Malfoy’s then headed back out the doors, heads high, waving one last time in a way Harry was greatly reminded of Draco’s wave from the Goblet night by, and then disappearing.
A beat. Draco released a breath he didn’t seem to even realize he was holding, then nodded at the doors, turning to Dumbledore.
“Can we er… Can we leave as well?” The old man’s brows furrowed. “No.” The boys sighed. “Of course not.” Harry said, then flopped down into the chair Lucius had just occupied while Draco sat down in the one his mother had been in, which is also the exact same position they had been in the night Dumbledore had shown them the dragons and their little forced alliance had been ‘forced’ to begin.
A little too nostalgic for Harry’s tastes, honestly.
“Boys,”
“Professor,”
“I’m mad at you.”
“Oh.” Harry said, eyes widening in clear confusion. “Well not you, Harry, you’re fine.” “Oh.” “I’m mad at you.” He turned to Draco, who leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, completely passive and oblivious. “Is that so?” “Yes, it is.”
“Care to explain why?” The blonde prompted, leaning forward in his seat, to which Dumbledore leaned forward as well, albeit most likely in a playful manner. “You found the Room of Requirement and you didn’t inform me.”
Draco’s eyes widened just a bit while Harry’s did a lot more, and his jaw opened a bit. “Oh.”
“Yes indeed ‘oh.’ I have to congratulate both of you, honestly. Finding the Room is not an easy feat and using it wisely and not getting caught? Far more difficult. Though you will be enlightened to know that Mrs. Norris is a good friend of Professor McGonagall who is also of course a good friend of mine so no, you two were never getting your little secret past me.”
The boys looked at each other, equally guilty, and licked their lips. “I’m waiting…” Draco rolled his eyes and in unison they said, “We’re sorry.” to which Dumbledore grinned. “I accept your apology. Now, I must request that you two do not return to the Room for the rest of the year.” The two looked panicked for just a moment. “And before you protest consider it a punishment instead of detention time you two could very productively spend studying the egg. Hm?”
Well, he had a point there.
“Now,” Dumbledore waved a hand to the doors. “You may go.” And both of the boys stood in one swift motion, Harry practically charging for them while Draco turned for a second before immediately spinning back around.
“Wait! I have a request.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. “Yes?” “Could I… er… Room with… Harry? Just er… for a few weeks… months… maybe…”
“No.”
“Of course not…” Draco sighed and shook his head, whole body slumping, while Dumbledore smiled softly under his beard. “Do not fret, you see him plenty right?” Dumbledore leaned forward, gazing up at the blonde above his half-moon glasses, a smile now very visible. “Whatever you do, Draco, don’t try to isolate yourself from your fellow Housemates. You may detest them, you may even despise them, but you nevertheless should always tolerate them. Don’t run. Take a page from Harry’s book, maybe, and face them.”
The two looked at each other, long and hard, for a moment that lasted maybe a bit too long, before Draco nodded, muttering, “Thank you, Professor.” in the most sincere tone he’d ever spoken to Dumbledore with, then turned and headed out the doors, bumping Harry in the shoulder and jerking his chin forward to get him to follow.
Harry smirked a bit, still surprised, but happy to hear that the boy seemed to be defecting from the bullies in his House now too, and followed without question.
-*-*-*-
It’s quite easy to avoid looking at people when they are actively avoiding looking at you. This is a fact Draco realized rather quickly as he walked through the halls of the Slytherin Common Room, going to the one place he was sure he could avoid the eyes of his peers: the merpeople observation tank. Or, as they had conveniently nicknamed it, the ‘MOT.’
Here the blonde collapsed onto the floor, dropping his bag beside him and leaning back against the glass, breathing in the air and sighing, feeling relaxed for the first time all day. After that very stressful talk in Dumbledore’s office the stress hadn’t gone away, as he only continued on to try and avoid the nasty looks his fellow Slytherins kept sending him as he sat in the back of classes with Crabbe and Goyle.
He knew, deep down, that he was the one in the right to burn the badges, but that didn’t make the fact that his former ‘friends’ were turning their backs on him sting any less.
He sighed once more as he gazed out at the lake, and the couple merpeople that swam by, some waving in a friendly manner as usual, some glaring too. They were like everyone else in the school. There were some who would smile and wave at Draco Malfoy, but most would glare now.
Maybe this is what it felt like to be Harry Potter…
Draco didn’t know how long he’d been staring out at the sea when the idea came to him. He could have been drifting off to sleep, by all intents and purposes, but suddenly, and without any warning, his mind seemed to really register what he was looking at--the merpeople--as a couple began to sing, as they often did when they noticed they had visitors.
See the thing about merpeople is they love to perform and sing, but hardly anyone can ever hear them do this, as a merperson is incapable of singing above the ground. What comes out is a high pitched screeching that’ll make your ears bleed instead. Draco’s heard it before, last year, when a secret admirer swam to the surface of the lake and attempted to call him towards her, only for the shrieking to scare him and his friends away. And he’d heard it again after that, just today in fact, coming from the Golden Egg Harry and him had opened in a closet on the way back from Dumbledore’s.
Draco jerked forward, jumped to his feet, and pressed his hands to the glass. He could have sworn, through the inky black darkness of the waters, he saw one of the singing merpeople wink at him, before swimming off.