Dancing with Fire

Things could not be more awkward. 

Well, they could, probably. Like if Voldemort himself was sitting on his new couch, it would be at least weirder, but it doesn’t change his current situation, does it?

“Play nice.” Narcissa hisses, grabbing two glasses from the kitchen counter. “If it weren’t for him Harry and Draco would be dead right now.”

Sirius grabs the remaining two and tries to comply, though he does nearly burst into tears of laughter when they walk into the drawing room.

They fixed it up pretty nicely with Narcissa’s help, he hates to admit it but the Malfoy connections can’t be beat. 

Kreacher even helped out with this renovation, so instead of the dingy dark room that was once littered with cigar smoke and disgusting velvet chairs, it’s now actually hospitable. Moth eaten, slightly moldy curtains were the first to go, replaced with cream ones that fit well with the walls that he secretly doesn’t hate. The two day argument he and Remus had gotten into over paint colors should be ridiculous, but he stands by the opinion that it’s perfectly acceptable to have a red room on the first floor. Granted, the red he wanted wasn’t the same color as the maroon armchairs he refused to budge on, so at least he has those.

Throw in a plush grey carpet, because he learned the hard way in his teens that white stains far too easily, and a few light wooden side tables to match his coffee table that he also demanded, and the room was almost complete. One final piece was the couch Narcissa had imported from Italy. His pride and joy, he wouldn’t let Remus have coffee by it the first week. A white camel-back three seater, maroon roses etched into the light wooden feet, insanely comfortable with big fluffy pillows on either side. It’s fucking perfect, and he’d preferred to keep it stainless and impeccable until the day he dies.

Unfortunately Narcissa does not share his sentiment because she hands a glass of red wine to the stain on his couch and he can’t decide which is worse.

The danger of wine or Lucius Malfoy.

Remus looks at him with one eyebrow raised, he tries not to freak out. But fuck if he doesn’t keep a very close eye on Lucius’s hand.

“So,” the bastard says after an uncomfortably long silence, “It’s good to see you not behind bars.”

Oh fuck being nice. “You seem to have forgotten who put me in them.”

Narcissa sends them both a glare, Remus takes a step closer.

“I didn’t put you there.”

“Then who did?”

“Albus Dumbledore, for starters.” 

Sirius freezes on the spot, Narcissa slaps her husband’s shoulder, Remus, after a moment where Sirius seriously worries for his rug, starts laughing. “I never thought I’d see the day where I agreed with Lucius Malfoy.”

“Well,” the man in question raises his glass, “Cheers to changing times, I guess.”

James is surely rolling in his grave, he can feel the ghost of Lily Potter glaring at him, but Narcissa is here and real and much more scary so Sirius meets the toast. “Cheers.”

The week after the Quidditch World Cup had been scary to say the least. Narcissa had been visiting them every other day and then disappeared without a letter for a full week before showing up at midnight and making her way straight to the wine cellar. Sirius still has nightmares of Kreacher standing over him and telling him that someone is in the house, and of his cousin stumbling drunk into his room with Remus naked in bed and telling them how much she hates Quidditch. 

A few hours of calming her down later and Remus was ripping apart a howler that would’ve screamed at Harry until his ears fell off. She ended up staying the night in the room Sirius was planning on making hers anyways, and in the morning Kreacher made pancakes and Narcissa told them her grand plan. 

When they first agreed to helping her find allies, there was the general understanding that Lucius was not to be trusted, after all he tortured Draco, tried to kill students in Hogwarts, definitely murdered a few of his and Remus’s friends over the years, bullied them all at school, and, as if the list isn’t long enough already, tried to aid in the murder of Harry. So, yeah, with the evidence building against him, everyone generally agreed that trusting him wasn’t the smartest move, even with the whole mind control thing.

But then the asshole had saved not only Draco and Harry, but the Weasley kids and Hermione. A muggle-born, brilliant, astounding Hermione. Had even gotten hurt in the process and only complained about how stupid Draco was being to take on a house elf, Sirius still won’t admit that he kinda agrees. 

Things change once a person loves something more than they hate something else. 

So, though he’s still not sure how, Narcissa had gotten them on board with testing her husband. He couldn’t meet, or even know about the few purebloods they’ve gathered, much less what his wife is actually planning. All she told Lucius was that Sirius is free, not a homicidal murder, and that she was tired of pretending to hate the only family she has left from her mother and father. Some bullshit about blood needing to stick together, like they ever hated each other in the first place.

They had to send Draco to school first, he’d throw a fit if he knew this was happening. Sirius doesn’t even want to think about what Harry would do if he knew, and oh fuck he really needs to mention Harry’s scar hurting and that the house cleaning is going well. Instead of a howler, he had sent only a partly furious letter demanding he stay safe and making him promise to write. Sooner, rather than later, he’ll have to find a way to firecall him and spill everything.

Keeping secrets has never helped anyone, and he can only hope Harry’s not in deep shit like he is. 

Though, with any luck, he’ll have more fun dining with Lucius Malfoy than Harry will have doing homework.

“Master Draco! Mister Blaise!”

Draco groans, rolling over and hitting something soft that immediately hisses at him. He snatches his hand away before LuLu can claw him half to death, turning back into the dark coolness.

“Master Draco.”

Draco’s eyes snap open to see Winky, arms crossed, annoyed.

“Master Draco and Mister Blaise will be late for class!”

Oh shit.

He rolls out of bed and onto his feet, stepping around Winky and throwing open his closet.

“Can you grab me-”

“Breakfast?” Winky asks, “Biscuits with lemon curds and apples for the both of yous, sir.”

Draco rolls his eyes, tossing an apple at Blaise’s sleeping form. He jolts wide away, looking around only to groan and flop back on bed. Having one pant leg on will not stop Draco from crossing his arms and glaring.

“Winky, what time is it?”

“Eight forty-two, sir.”

Blaise blots up again. “Did she say eight forty-two?! It takes ten minutes to make it to McGonagall’s class!”

“Winky has been trying to wake the sirs for the past hour! If sirs had listened-” She cuts herself off, eyes going wide and Draco has to pause getting ready all over again so she can’t beat her head on the ground.

“Winky, please!” He still has to put a shirt on-fuck he won’t have time to wash his face, but that’s what free periods are for. “I’d prefer you to speak your mind instead of being formal all the time. My old elf friend, Dobby, was sarcastic as hell and I liked him more for it. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, we might as well enjoy each other’s company.”

Draco stands, reaching for his deodorant, and it’s then that he realizes Winky looks like she has something to say.

“What is it?” He asks, letting Blaise turn him.

There’s a moment of panic when he sees his friend’s wand pointed at him, but Blaise just mutters some spell he’s never heard of and his face feels so much fresher. He’s gonna wiggle that one out of the boy if it kills him.

“Is there any way for Winky to meet Dobby? I has already been talking to the Malfoy Manor Elves to learn Master Draco’s favorites, but I wishes to be the best elf, and if Dobby can be helping….”

Draco wants to hug her so fucking bad it actually roots him to the spot, but then Blaise yells “Hurry up!” from his side of the room.

Barely suppressing a ‘fuck you’ he instead focuses on buttoning his shirt, “Dobby?”

Works like a charm, if only buttons were as easy. On the plus side, the loud ‘crack’ that carries Dobby into the room startles Blaise enough to almost drop his tie.

“Master Draco! Have you been well since summer? House elves been talking about a new-”

He’s not sure which of their faces are funnier. Dobby with wide eyes and a hand covering his mouth or Winky’s badly hidden irritation. 

“Winky this is Dobby,” Draco says, looking around for his outer robes because DADA is always freezing the first week and he won’t have time to come back between class, “Dobby this is Winky, my personal house elf. Can you answer any questions she may have and-”

Dobby’s squeal gets a glare from Blaise but he’s too busy throwing his arms around Winky to notice and Draco should be tying his shoes, he really doesn’t have time for this, but Winky mouthing ‘help’ to him and the sight of Dobby hanging off her is too funny not to stare at. 

“You been protecting Master Draco! Keepin’ him safe and makin’ sure he returns to Hogwarts! It’s an honor to meet you! Yous and I is gonna be the best of friends!”

Winky looks positively disgusted, but she did quite literally ask for this. 

“House elves do not be having friends, Mister Dobby.”

Dobby rolls his eyes, Draco really misses his quirks sometimes. “Misses Winky, everybody be having friends.”

Blaise spritzes cologne on both of them, moisturizes, and then grabs their bags, “Yeah, but Draco is going to lose his if he doesn’t hurry up!”

“Oh fuck you.” A flick of his wand and his shoes are tied, “Take care of her, Dobby!”

Between the look on Winky’s face, Pansy’s stressing about her Yule Ball attire, and Hermione’s Wrath he’ll have to face on Thursday, there’s no way he’ll make it out of this year alive. 

By some small mercy they do make it to Transfiguration on time, sliding into the back row by Pansy exactly one minute before the bell rings. Crabbe and Goyle glance at them, Draco tries not to let it hurt. They’re sitting closer to the Huffles than any right minded Slytherin would and Draco hates every fucking second of it. 

“Where were the two of you this morning?”

“Oh, you know.”

Blaise rolls his eyes, leaning over him, “We overslept.”

Something tells him that she only believes them because Blaise isn’t speaking Latin.

“Whatever, have you heard about the new Hufflepuff?”

“There’s a new Hufflepuff?”

Pansy rubs at her temples, “Merlin, it’s like you don’t have eyes sometimes. Yes, there’s a new Hufflepuff. Our little pottery friend has even noticed them. No one knows much about them, I think it’s rather interesting, don’t you?”

More like alarming, but he can’t reply when Mcgonagall is glaring at them for talking. 

They’re forced to break into partners, Draco claims Pansy, Blaise gets stuck with Millie but surprisingly they work well together. Today they’re supposed to be turning sticks into fabric, but Draco suspects Pansy is just using the class to test colors for her dress.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

Though the look on McGonagall's face when Pansy hands in five different fabrics is worth every second he had to listen to her musing and asking his opinion.

“It’s just that if I wear black lace I’ll miss the chance to wear forest green satin, or silk! You know how good I look in silk.”

Blaise does a bad job of hiding amusement, “Pansy, dearest, do you know who our new DADA Professor is?”

Not even that gets her out of her ideas, but now Draco is curious and that’s never good for anyone. 

“I heard it’s Mad-Eye Moody.” He whispers, which finally gets Pansy’s attention.

“Mad-Eye Moody?!” She would’ve dropped her bag if Millie hadn’t glared at her. “Like that old cranky Auror that used to go around killing Death Eaters? The one your father fought? The one that nearly killed Vicent’s dad?”

“That’s the one,” Draco replies dryly. He’s not looking forward to this year’s DADA. Honestly, Lockheart would be better than an asshole with prejudice. If he’s lucky it’ll just be a few snide comments and bullying to deal with.

Draco’s never fucking lucky.

Their class has seen a lot in this room. In first year Quirell had plants and warm rugs, admittedly comfortable chairs, candles that smelled great, so much to cover up the fact that he was hiding Riddle in the back of his head that he made the classroom seem comfortable. In second year, Lockheart had the room filled with orange and golds, Dragon bones, pictures of himself on every available wall and Draco had thought it was the worst thing he’d ever seen. In third year, Remus made it look like an actual learning classroom, the chairs were cosy, the lights dimmed down a bit, a few candles and paintings that would stick their tongues out if you stared too long.

For the longest time, he thought Snape’s classroom was on record of being the scariest.

He was very, very wrong.

The DADA room has somehow become all black. Black ceilings, black desks, black chairs, black floors. It looks as though someone took the Dark Arts and gave free rein on decor, it’s not cute.

Thankfully the first day passes with a few glares and a weird amount of staring on the Professor’s part. It should be the other way around, afterall Draco’s not the one with a distracting magical eye, there’s really nothing special except his hair that’s managed to grow a little past his chin.

Everything is honestly going much better than he expected it to, the only weird part is not having to leave dinner early for Quidditch practice, but if he reads the look in Flint’s eyes right that won’t be lasting long. 

If he’s lucky the worst thing that will happen this year is the Geia issue.

Not that he’ll be holding his breath on that one. 

“Mind your tongue when you speak to me, boy!”

“Do you expect me to apologize?”

His bag is full of homework for Ancient Studies and Ancient Runes that he should go ahead and do, but he has lunch and a free period before Arithmancy, and tea with Severus is so much more important. Or it had been more important before he opened the door to the Potion’s room and heard shouting. Draco slips his wand into his hand, just in case Snape needs help, and casts a quiet silencing charm so he can sneak closer and get a glimpse into his god father’s office.

At first all he sees is Severus fuming and so angry the potion bottle in his hand looks like it might crack.

And then Draco sees the Hufflepuff Pansy has been going on about. 

He’s tall as hell, like maybe Cedric Diggory tall, but other than that he seems pretty normal. Short brown hair, glasses, correct robes and everything. Maybe a sixth or seventh year, if the NEWT application hanging out of his bag is anything to go by.

“I should expect so,” Snape doesn’t budge a fucking inch, he’s glaring. Like his real ‘I don’t like you’ glare that’s usually reserved for him when he’s done something stupid.

“Then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought-“

“Willie?” 

Oh fuck. 

Draco dives under Snape’s desk, barely making it in time to hide before Cedric is waltzing into the room, making a beeline for the office door and knocking. “Professor Snape, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt but Professor Sprout requested to see William in her office before lunch is over.”

Snape doesn’t even glare at him, which means the conversation has either rattled him or Cedric is just that charming. 

“Mr. Livia was just leaving.”

Draco ducks down under the desk right as the two boys leave, but not before he catches the color of William’s eyes. They’re turquoise, bright, slap you in the face turquoise, and he’s seen a lot of abnormal things in his life, but eyes that vibrant usually mean trouble. Especially when he can feel them watching his hiding spot even after the Potions’s room door closes.

He’s on his feet in a flash, storming into Snape’s office and only a little happy to find his professor surprised at his quick appearance.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?”

“Good Afternoon to you too, Draco. It’s nice to see you as well. Yes, I am doing good, thank you so very much for asking. Please, my kind and ever gracious, nosey godson, have a seat.”

Draco’s already plopped into the chair he considers his, “As much as I love you and respect that there are some things you don’t have to tell me, I wish you would let me know when crazy students are in the school so I don’t have to sneak around your classroom with my wand out and worry about a maniac hexing you.”

“The only maniacs here are you and your group of friends, besides the students have never been sane in my opinion.” His words are harsh, but the teapot is already out so he can’t be that angry. 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“It’s a question you have no right to ask.”

Um, what the fuck?

 Draco accepts the cup of tea being handed to him and sets it down on his table. Then he takes a long look at the man in front of him.

Severus Snape has been with him since before the beginning of his life. He made potions for Lucius back in school, when his grandfather was beating him. Narcissa forced him to help pick out baby clothes, he was the one who helped protect her-and Draco-from Riddle. He made potions for Narcissa during her pregnancy, one of Draco’s first memories is Severus rolling his eyes at his bad piano playing while his parents laughed in the background. He was the one who got Draco to go to Dumbledore that first year, the one that calmed him down and has been on his side since forever.

Never in their entire time of knowing each other had Severus lied to him, withheld information, given him any reason for mistrust. So usually, when his godfather doesn’t want to talk about something, they just don’t talk about it. 

And Snape hunching over his papers is a clear ‘drop it’ sign.

Of course, none of that means anything when Draco knows exactly how to get him to cave.

“Do you know any potions to heal a deadly snake?”

Severus drops his papers, “Excuse me?”

“I’m just curious is all, if you have a book with possible step by step instructions that could magically heal a giant deadly snake that’d be great.” It’s bait, but only Draco knows it.

“What in Merlin’s name would you need it for?”

Draco doesn’t even bother hiding the sly grin, Severus frowns on instinct. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me the truth about William.”

“Unfortunately there is nothing to tell, but now I know you’re up to something stupid, which means it’s very likely that Harry Potter is up to something so you either tell me or I go to Dumbledore.”

Draco’s mouth hangs open, Severus smirks.

“Never try to outwit the master.”

Draco spends the entirety of Thursday anxious to the point that even Winky is giving him looks. He sleeps through most of Care of Magical Creatures, which gets him covered in some goop from whatever weird animal Hagrid’s forcing them to work with. It’s not his fault he had Astronomy at three in the morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. It’s Harry’s fault. 

The lack of Calming Draughts in his life probably adds to it, and since everyone sleeps through History of Magic anyways, he’s really not that annoyed. Only enough to stab at his salad like it was the cause for his latest bout of nervousness.

“Seriously, what has gotten into you?” Pansy hisses.

Her and Blasie have been on him non stop since breakfast when he got a letter from his mother that he refused to read. Not that he didn’t want to interact with her, he misses Narcissa every day, thank you, he just would prefer not to hear bad news until after Hermione rips him and Harry to pieces.

 Harry for this insane idea and Draco for agreeing to it.

If the letter is good news maybe he can guilt Pansy into reading it as he’s being hexed to death.

“You’ll find out tonight.”

Blaise snorts, “Way to sound like a cranky old cryptic.”

They can joke now, but he knows without a doubt that they’ll finish him off if Hermione doesn’t. Hopefully Ron can step in and show them the Logical Side of Harry’s plan. Ron’s the calmest of them all, surprisingly, and he got them to agree to the Chamber in the first place, so as long as they can keep Ron on their side it’ll be three against three and no one will die.

Or Ron will be just as furious and there is no hope.

Hope, or lack thereof in his case, doesn’t keep the day from flying by, and before he knows it the clock is striking midnight. Blaise and LuLu follow him out of the room, Millie’s sitting on the couch but she doesn’t do much besides raise an eyebrow and tell them not to get caught.

Harry found a room to use for tonight after their little talk on Monday, hidden on the second floor behind not one, but two abandoned classrooms. Probably an old professor’s suit. They get there and open the door just for Pansy to scream at him.

“You fucker! I was so close! So fucking close to finishing these wards! I’ve been working on these since dinner!”

Hermione rolls her eyes and drags them both inside before they can say something stupid.

Ron and Harry are busy trying to clean chairs and pillows, or more likely Pansy and Hermione told them to stay out of their way until the wards were done. Blaise rolls his eyes, LuLu sneezes. Pansy and Hermione throw themselves back into the wards, speaking in hushed tones about where they can pick up from.

“What are you two doing? Aren’t you wizards? Do you not have your wands?”

Ron shrugs in his general direction. “Cleaning spells never get all the dust out.”

Draco huffs, picks up LuLu, and then calls out “Winky!”

She appears with a crack and Draco cannot fathom why Hermione is already giving him a death glare, they haven’t even told her about Geia yet. Even Ron and Harry are staring at him like he’s done something funny, but considering that Blaise doesn’t react and Pans is still elbows deep in wards, he assumes it might just be a Gryffindor thing. 

“Yes?” 

Dobby had stolen his elf for an entire day and turned her into a better version of him. Her quality of work couldn’t be beat, and now that she’s stopped being terrified of him and gotten comfortable she’s probably his new favorite.

She’s surprisingly funny when she’s not scared. 

Before he can say anything Hermione is taking a deep breath, which is weird because once again, she doesn’t even know the worst part yet.

“Master Draco!” Winky shakes her head, “This room is being awful! Why did you not call me sooner? Sits! Sits! All of yous! Sits!”

Winky snaps her fingers and six chairs appear, they’re all thrown into soft cushions except for Pansy who refuses to acknowledge anything but the wards. 

“What is she-”

“Don’t look!” Blaise and Draco yell at the same time so their idiot friends won’t vomit.

“Why not?!” Hermione demands, turning and staring for three seconds before covering her mouth.

Blaise grimaces. “House elf Super Speed, you look too long and it’ll throw off your equilibrium.”

“What?”

“Can we get that in English, please?”

“Elves go super fast, human brain can’t keep up, makes us stop functioning and get sick, like Hermione is about to be- Winky! Can you grab a-”

The bucket is underneath her withering form before he can finish and he thanks Mr. Crouch for being an idiot and throwing such a good elf away.

He hears more than he sees the cleaning, forcing Harry into a staring competition. Draco practically begs him to bring it up, but Harry’s stubborn and shaking his head, it’s all very annoying.

On the plus side, Winky really knows what she’s doing. The dust and grime is replaced with polished wooden floors and stone walls that have little symbols carved into them, the only exception is the wall by Pansy that looks like a weird chalkboard. Bedside tables become coffee tables, the bed disappears into a few large desks, a rug he originally thought was just discoloration turns out to be a mix of green and red- though he’s not sure if it was originally that way or just Winky joking. A fire springs to light in a brick fireplace he hadn’t even noticed, blankets in baskets appear seemingly from nowhere even though they look uncomfortably to the extras from Malfoy Manor, then more chairs are added, piles of pillows, and the bookshelves tucked in the corners seem to be filled once more.  

Pansy turns around the exact second Winky finishes with a grin. 

“Oh wow. You guys did a great jo- nope. Hi, Winky.”

“Hello Miss Pansy! Would anyone like some tea?”

Draco has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the wide eyed confusion written on Hermione’s face.

“I think we’re all good. Sorry to get you so late at night.”

His elf shrugs, then smiles her first genuine smile and bows, disappearing with a crack that finally gets Hermione to close her mouth and give him a hard look. 

“You are going to sit down and explain to me every single bit of house elves, I’m talking unethical, true purpose, functionality, and any issues because I swear to Godric if you’re keeping a slave I might have to murder you. I mean it, Draco, I wanna know everything. I’m adding it to our agenda.”

“What’s a slave?” Blaise asks. 

“We have an agenda?” Seems like a better question for Draco’s purposes. 

Hermione huffs. “Of course we have an agenda! I need answers, people!”

Pansy gives him a look that clearly means he could’ve said anything else and it would’ve been better, but Hermione is already standing up and moving to the chalkboard. 

A tap of her wand later and a list appears.

“We haven’t had a proper talk since summer, so that will be our first object of discussion. More specifically, your father, I need the full explanation because, last time I checked, evil people don’t save children stranded in chaos.”

Lucius Malfoy appears on the board.

“After that, I need to have a talk with three of you about the Triwizard Tournament. Don’t you dare argue with me Harry James Potter! It’s for your own good!”

Three idiots is written, Draco idly wonders if he’s included. His track record says yes, but his faith in Hermione says no.

“Then the Yule Ball, but that’s more for me and Pans because I have nothing to wear-”

“It’s your own fault! Our school supplies said to bring formal wear!”

Hermione flushes, “I didn’t think it meant a dress! I thought it was some sort of Honors Society!”

“What’s an honors society-”

“Not now Blaise!” The girls shout at the same time, Pansy’s already geering up to launch into a full fledged rant.

Harry raises his hand. “Um. Before you guys do that, Draco and I have something to add to the list.”

Oh hell no. “Don’t you include me in this! Just because I agreed doesn’t make me the mastermind!”

“You said it was a good idea!”

“I said it’s a terrible idea! You’re just going to do it anyways, so, technically, you blackmailed me into it!”

“How on Earth did I-”

Hermione stomps her foot, “What are you two on about?! I swear to Godric if you’ve gotten yourself involved in some crazy scheme within the first week-”

“I didn’t! I just made a friend!”

Not how Draco would have worded it, but seeing how Ron is already getting comfortable for the story, maybe his Gryffindorks can already see where this is going.

“What do you mean?” Pansy asks slowly.

Harry’s really got to work on not looking guilty. It’s a dead giveaway that his story isn’t going to do anything but piss everyone off.

“On Monday...you know how we had to go and see if the snake was dead?”

Hermione definitely knows where this is going. “Harry.”

“Well, um, surprise!” Harry shrinks into himself, “She’s not dead!”

The room goes quiet.

“She’s actually pretty chill….her name is Geia…”

Draco’s pretty sure everyone is frozen. He can’t wait to see how they react to the next part.

“And I, uh, ya know. Since she’s friendly and cool in that weird ancient way, um, I kinda signed us up to heal her?”

That jolts some air into them. “You what?!”

“She’s really not that bad-”

“She tried to eat my sister!”

“Yeah, about that-”

”Have you lost your mind?!”

Blaise is the only one staring straight at him as the others attack Harry. He’d join in, but he’s already agreed to help so there’s no point in complaining if others are doing a good job of it.

“Wait.” Blaise says. 

Draco’s stomach drops with the volume of the room.

“You said Draco agreed to this?”

Fucking hell.

Draco sits up a little straighter, but having to look a murderous Hermione in the eye is a lot scarier than he thought it would be.

“He hasn’t told you the full story….and since he’s clearly not good at it, I guess I will.”

Harry sends him a grateful smile, he ignores it.

“We went down into the Chamber, and there’s this giant snake maybe a few years away from dying. Harry talked to her for a bit, she didn’t eat us, and during their conversation we figured out a few things. One, Geia was being controlled by Riddle during second year. Given what we know about how powerful mind curses can be, I assure you she probably couldn’t stop it even if she wanted to. Two, we have physical proof that she’s not dangerous, as she would’ve eaten us the second we walked in if she had been. And lastly, well, it has all the factors to go insanely wrong, but if it goes right we’ll have another ally on our side if the war starts. Even if it doesn’t, having a friend that powerful might provide some sort of protection.”

Pansy slumps back in her chair. “This might be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Because there’s no guarantee we’ll be doing it” Ron glares. “What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck, Harry? Just because she didn’t eat you doesn’t mean she’s a good little snake! Why the hell should we care about her?”

“Because she’s like me.” Harry says in that same small voice from the Astronomy tower. Draco reaches out until their feet are touching, knocking against his ankle makes him smile and surely that might be enough to help. “Think about it, Ron. Who else do you know that has been trapped somewhere for fourteen years, abused, starved, and then thrown into a world full of war and death against their will?”

Hermione’s pulling him in for a hug before he can finish, Ron suddenly looks the part of a stressed out father. Pansy and Blaise seem horrified. Draco clenches his fist, wondering once again how difficult it would be to kill two muggles and make it look like a freak accident. 

“You?” Pansy whispers.

Harry nods, “My muggle relatives aren’t that happy about my existence.”

“And they’re shit for it.” Draco replies so fiercely Blaise raises an eyebrow at him.

No one else seems to notice, too focused on Harry to care. 

“We’ll do it.” Ron says. “Not for her, but for you. Because if we heal her and she tries to eat us I will bash her skull in myself.”

Hermione frowns and for a second Draco worries she might not agree with Ron’s brilliant plan. 

“If it makes anything better, I’ve already gotten Severus on board to help.”

Harry is the last person in the room who gets to glare at him.

“You told Snape?! Why?”

“He’s my godfather? It’s not like he’s going to tell anyone, and I didn’t say which snake we’re healing, just that it’s old and ancient and your friend.”

Hermione is definitely suffering from a Potterache right now, he can see the build up in her left temple. Pansy’s already rubbing her head, Blasie will probably join her soon.

“What? I thought there might be a potion to help and he’s looking into it for us.”

Ron leans over to pat his shoulder, “It’s okay mate, you can tell the truth. No one will judge you if you went to complain about Harry.”

“Hey!”

“Draco’s right, Harry.” Hermione interjects before a rant can commence. “If we’re going to do this, we might need some extra help. Plus, now we already have a lead but I don’t know if it’ll be enough….” She bites her lower lip and glances and Pansy.

“You want to add people to our circle?” Pansy doesn’t even sound offended, like her and Hermione had already had this conversation. Which, they probably had, but that doesn’t mean Draco has to like it. 

“Who?” He asks warily, because he knows exactly how the two of them are and that they will somehow manage to get their way in the end. He might as well know what he’s up against.

Ron at least has the decency to look ashamed. “The twins and Ginny. They kinda found out over the summer that we’re friends, plus the twins are wicked smart and Gin was one of the two idiots to survive the Chamber the first time around.”

Draco loathes that it makes sense, but Blaise and Pansy look like they’re ready to submit, so he rushes out, “On one condition!”

“You have a condition?”

Draco swears he hears Harry mumble ‘of course he does’, but he can focus on that later.

“They can come if we bring Luna and Millie.”

“What-”

“Why them-”

“Millie’s already two seconds away from killing us-”

“Luna is-”

“Listen!” Draco snaps, pinning them all with a glare. “It’s not fair for the Slytherins to be outnumbered. Millie is the only other person in my house that’s on our side. She’s completely alone when she isn’t with us and she’ll get curious and follow us out one day if we don’t go ahead and invite her! And Luna- I know she’s young but she’s the same year as Ginny and if I can introduce her to the right kind of people, the people who will protect her, people that others fear and respect, it might just end up saving her life. She’s family and every person in this room knows how much family matters to me.”

Harry shrugs, “We’ve never had a problem with Millie. Besides, Luna and Gin are already friends.”

“Yeah, you really didn’t have to go all ranty on us.”

“It was rather rude of you.”

Pansy stifles a laugh, Blaise doesn’t bother.

“I’ve been trying to tell him to be less dramatic for years.”

Draco throws a pillow at his head and huffs just for good measure.