Memories and Secrets
“So we’re just telling everyone that I’m a spy, are we?”
Dumbledore rolls his eyes, “We’ve only informed Harry-”
“And Granger, and Weasley, and Lupin. What’s next? Are we going to put an ad out in the Daily Prophet ?” Draco sneers. Imagine that headline; Breaking News; Malfoy vs. Malfoy, the son of a former Death Eater says ‘no’!
Potter, thankfully, doesn’t say a word.
Insane, how much a person could miss in four days. Dumbledore still hadn’t gone through his memories, but he knew that would be happening before he left the office, Merlin knows Potter would probably see them too. The stupid git had been with him so much apparently his friends had gone looking, and well, he needed to explain why he was baby-sitting the Feret Who Bullied. Long story short, Potter really needs someone to teach him how to lie.
Not that Dumbledore wouldn’t have told them the truth. Harry had given them a basic idea, and the old coot had told them everything. From the first year to this one. Naturally the two dorks hadn’t believed him, so he brought out the Pensive and it was all downhill from there.
At least Snape was as pissed as he is.
“You’re overreacting.”
Draco glares at him, “I am? Because I thought the purpose of a spy was that no one knew about them ! I understand telling Potter, but I don’t understand why we had to go and inform so many people! What if it gets out?! What if my father knows now?”
Fawkes and LuLu follow him as he paces in front of Dumbledore’s desk, Potter follows him with his eyes. He hates every second of it.
“To be frank,” Dumbledore replies in a steely voice, “I told Miss Granger because she is more capable than the both of you combined. Mr. Weasley was clued in because it is unfair to have only two-thirds of a team know, and you are aware how the three of them are very much a team. If they know, they are more likely to be honest with you, did you not come to me last year and complain that it would be easier to keep them out of trouble if you knew the trouble they would get into beforehand?”
Draco flushes, Potter protests. “We do not get into that much trouble-”
“ Potter ,” he whines, “This year alone you’ve had not one, but three near-death experiences. First, the train ride. Second, flying on Buckbeak. You literally almost got kissed and fell to your death less than a bloody month ago!”
“Well you’re one to talk! You walked barefoot through the snow probably to get away from your abusive father and then acted like you weren’t even alive! For four days straight! Merlin knows what that man has-”
“ You know nothing about my father! ”
The room hushes at his outburst. Dumbledore stills behind his desk, Potter freezes in his seat. Not even the fire moves until LuLu brushes against his leg, like she’s offering some weird support. Draco takes a deep breath, quickly coming to his senses. Before he can apologize, Dumbledore stands and slowly walks to the corner of the room, near the stupid Pensive.
“Shall we learn together, then? You still haven’t shown me how you got back to the castle…”
Draco eyes Potter, still frozen in his seat. He knows Dumbledore won’t make him show the boy, hell, it would probably be better for Potter not to see what happened while he was gone. But, he knew everything else, why not include him on all of Draco’s dark little secrets. Maybe then he would shut the fuck up about what he thought he knew.
“Understand this, Potter. My father was once everything to me. He was kind and gentle and taught me everything I know. The man you’re about to see is a stranger.”
Potter’s eyes widen, “You’re going to let me-”
“Shut up.” Draco spits, “Just move before I change my mind.”
Dumbledore doesn’t comment on his rudeness for once, merely waits for both boys to join him. Then he takes his wand and extracts the memories Draco has no recollection of and eases them into the water. The three of them join hands, take a gulp of air, and sink their heads into the unknown.
He know it’s an stupid thought but, bloody hell, does he really sound that annoying?
“ You hurt me! ”
Ah, that sentence had definitely been a mistake. At least this time he can see his father moving quickly across the room and pinning him into the wall. Potter gasps beside him, Dumbledore frowns.
“Don’t worry,” Draco mumbles to them, watching himself get snarled at, “It only gets worse from here.”
“You stood up for Buckbeak,” Potter whispers back. He gives Draco a weird look, like he’s questioning if the boy really is half-decent.
“Someone had to.”
Lucius moves in front of them, they follow him and Memory Draco down the hallways of Malfoy Manor and to the dungeons, where Draco shivers. Dumbledore tightens his grip on his hand, it’s grounding, he would have to thank the man for not making him do this alone later.
Above ground, the manor can still pass as a family-friendly home. Sure, it’s big and the walls are spotless and the floor echoes footsteps, but there are soft couches, even gentler lights. The dining room may have seemed dark and cold from his perspective, but the table was warm oak, and the rug beneath it white, fuzzy, and pure. He’s eaten dinner so many times with his parents there, his father at the head, and he and his mother on either side. It had been home once.
But the dungeons were another story.
Dark and dreary, walls of stone lit by green fire that somehow managed to stay alive despite the dampness of the place. Lucius’s feet still echo, but it sounds more like a threat than someone walking. Iron doors with little windows at the top are passed until they reach the very last one.
“Listen,” Draco whispers, watching as his father raises his wand to unlock it, “Behind that door is ten Dementors.”
“Do not worry,” Dumbledore doesn’t ease his grip, “They cannot see us in a memory.”
Beside him, Potter relaxes every so slightly, but then the door is opening and Memory Draco is tossed inside. They hurry in, despite at least two of them wanting to run away. Lucius places his wand on the door window, just out of Memory Draco’s reach. For a moment he thinks Potter is going to vomit.
#######################
One by one the Dementors approach him, sucking while he screams. The hands in his tighten like it’s a reflex, but he can’t tear his eyes away from his own limp body being passed around between bone hands. His screaming dies down after at least ten minutes, and that’s when the door is thrown open.
“ Enough .” Lucius says, holding his wand to the masses. He moves in to grab his son, not knowing about the three in the present that follow him out of the room.
Lucius takes him to the torture chamber next to the Dementor Room, strapping him in wall chains that suspend him against stone; he exits the room and Draco wonders if he was left there over night before the man is back with a bucket he just knows is cold water.
Sure enough, whatever it is gets thrown on his face and brings him back to the Memory world of Consciousness.
“ You will learn strength. Even if I have to beat it into you. ”
Draco doesn’t know what’s coming next, but when a whip appears in his father’s hands, he’s sure to cover Potter’s eyes with his arm. Unfortunately he can’t cover his ear drums. Lucius takes out whatever anger he has like Memory Draco is a punching bag, hitting him over and over until the whites of his eyes are showing. Then, he sighs, puts the whip down,and leaves Memory Draco tied to the wall until what he assumes is morning.
That’s when the knife comes into play.
Memory Draco is asleep on the wall again, and yes he can see Potter trying not to cry at the sight. Lucius strides in with only his knife, whispering something to make the chains release his body. Memory Draco sits up, opening his mouth as if to say ‘what?’ but it sort of gets cut off by his father’s boot.
“ Get up! ”
Memory Draco does not get up, as a matter of fact, Real Draco is almost positive Memory Draco is knocked the fuck out, but that doesn’t stop Lucius from beating him awake only to punch him back to sleep. Draco doesn’t bother hiding it from Potter this time, he thinks about it when his father grabs Memory Draco’s lifeless arm and puts a dark blade against his still bleeding wound, but the worst was surely over.
The three watch hours of this, Draco being beaten, Draco tied to the wall, Draco with the Dementors, Draco getting cut, Draco starved, whipped, splashed awake by water, Crucioed, frozen, burned, kicked, slapped, taunted and cussed at. And then, just when he’s about to beg Dumbledore to stop, Lucius leaves Memory Draco passed out on the floor, only for one steel grey eye to peek open as soon as the door shuts.
###############
Oh yeah, that had been the day Lucius told him how lovely his wand was on the fireplace, and how he was thinking about breaking it. A big mistake, telling a wizard where you were keeping their wand. He watches himself sit up and wait for a few hours before crawling to the door. Memory Draco stands and immediately falls, but grabs the wall at the last second to steady himself. He mumbles what Real Draco is sure to be the unlocking spell, and then the three are finally leaving the bloody dungeons.
Memory Draco looks bad, he’ll admit. The boy can barely walk, but he still stumbles up the steps, leaving a trail of blood behind him. They make it to the dungeon door, and out into the Manor. A clock tells them it’s exactly one in the morning, his father goes to bed every night at eleven. Draco sees himself grab his wand, a handful of floo powder, and then hears his dead voice whisper ‘Honeydukes’.
Memory Draco disappears at the same time Dumbledore pulls him back and to his honest surprise, the second they’re back in the old man’s office, he’s dragged into ancient arms.
Dumbledore is hugging him, and oddly enough, shaking while he does. Even weirder is that Harry Potter, The Boy Who’s Parents Got Brutally Murdered In Front of Him, is crying like he’d just seen the worst thing in his life.
“I’m sorry.” Dumbledore says, pulling away from him but keeping one hand on his shoulder. LuLu paces between Potter and Draco, rubbing them both and looking at them with worried eyes.
Draco shrugs. “It’s in the past.”
“How can you say that?” Potter whispers, “With what he did to you...how could you go back?”
“Because I have to. If I don’t go back, he’ll know something is wrong. I can’t have him knowing the type of information I give Dumbledore, do you understand why I didn’t want to tell you anything now? What you just saw is kind compared to what he would do if he knew.”
Potter gives him the saddest look he’s ever seen in his life, big emerald eyes staring right through him and into whatever soul he has left. For a moment he’s honestly scared the boy is going to hug him too.
“Then he won’t know.” Harry says instead, “He’ll never find out. You have my word.”
Somehow, given what they just went through together, Draco trusted that.
----------
Classes start back up and if Draco had thought his friends were worried before, he had something else coming.
“ What the hell happened to your face?! ”
At least Pansy and Blaise had drug him to a secluded corner before screaming at him. Pansy gently trailed the few visible bruises on his face while her companion looked on with a worry he's only seen from his mother.
“Just an accident at home is all,” He lied, taking their hands and trying to smile.
“An accident?” Blaise whispers, pulling him closer, “Darling, it looks like you were beaten…”
Draco looks warmly up at him. His friend had grown a bit over winter break, or maybe it was just his new shoes. “I’m fine, Blaise-Bear. Really.”
“No you’re not.” Pansy rubs his shoulder.
The two in front of him share some looks, communicating something he wished he could be a part of.
Pansy speaks first, “Draco…”
“Is your father beating you?”
Then again, maybe he’d like to vanish from this conversation entirely.
“What?” He scoffs, after a much too telling pause he prays they don’t pick up on, “Where would you get an idea like that?”
“Well,” Pansy explains, “It started last year...Flint told us how you looked scared of your father when he came to see your first match.”
“He asked us if Mr. Malfoy was kind to you, and we thought he was until Christmas.”
Oh shit.
“You’ve never not been excited about being home, even when we were kids and you would come to visit, you always just wanted to be at your manor.”
Blaise takes a deep breath, “We started remembering how weird you were being about things. Like how when you did get a letter from him, you always looked so frightened.”
Fuck.
“And when he visited you would disappear for hours and come back with a mask we hadn’t seen before.”
“We found anxiety and pain-relieving potions under your bed last year, and now there’s blood replenishing ones there too.”
Shit ! He thought he had hidden those pretty well!
“You kept putting yourself in danger, healthy people don’t do that. You came back from talking to him with a bruise on the side of your head…”
“And then this year…he wouldn’t let you read your own mail, would he?”
Draco’s all but panicking now, his friends aren’t done though. They can see him shaking, surely, but their hands are soft on his arms, and for that he’s thankful.
“You didn’t pass out on the train...everyone passes out their first Dementor attack..”
“The wound on your arm-”
“You didn’t get a letter until Christmas-”
“And you come back looking like you’ve been stomped on?”
Pansy takes a deep breath, “We’re not stupid, love, we didn’t want to invade your privacy...but darling …”
“Look at you,” Blaise whispers, “You’re shaking like you’ve just woken up from a nightmare...we can’t sit by and watch anymore. We’re your friends and we won’t let you lie to us.”
Draco chokes out a laugh, thanking whoever’s listening that they’d skipped so no one would see him on the verge of breaking down in the middle of a hallway. “What do you want?” He asks, although it sounds much more like a sob, “Are you going to make me form some Unbreakable Vow so I’ll be honest with you?”
They share another look, and this time Draco doesn’t have to wonder what it means.
“You are, aren’t you?! You’re going to make me-”
“Draco.”
Oh fuck, Blaise pulled out his no-bullshit voice. That was never good for his arguments, or his jokes. Call him a coward, but without those he didn’t really have much else to fight with at the moment.
“Hear us out, love, this is actually more for your benefit.”
Honestly, how does Blaise expect him to behave after a statement like that. “We’re Slytherins. We don’t do things for other people’s benefits.”
“If you would shut up for a moment and let us explain,” Blaise glares, “Then maybe it would make a little more sense. Can you manage that?”
Draco nods. His friends may glare, but they’re warm and grounding and he can’t afford to lose that right now.
Pansy looks a little nervous, glancing between the two of them, but she seems to make up her mind, leaning closer as if there was someone around to hear them.
“I was thinking less of an Unbreakable Vow, and more of a magically-binding contract. I know you, you’d never be able to follow things to the letter, and I don’t want you to die for that, so Blaise and I did a little research and came up with a contract.”
That...didn’t sound as bad as dying because of a small slip up. Hell, he actually liked the idea of having something in writing.
“It says,” Blaise continues, “That you cannot lie to us. Ever. If you do you’ll spend the day speaking in Latin until you tell us the truth, we’ll face the same thing..”
He’d been mastering Veritaserum for months now, he could deal with that. Lying and not telling the whole truth were two completely different things he was getting rather good at.
“You also will alert us when you’re in danger. Literally, when you’re hurt and need help we’ll feel our wrists burning until we see you. You’ll feel the burn too, don’t worry.”
That hurt them more than anything. What’s the point of such a silly rule? Surely Draco would be burning their wrists every time he went home for the summer...
“And because we know you, we also wrote that whatever you tell us, we cannot tell anyone else unless they already know. If we even try to communicate it, our mouths will be locked shut and anything we try to write will just turn out in a lewd drawing until you personally relieve us. I kinda can’t wait to see your gossiping ass draw a naked man during Snape’s class.”
“The only time that can be broken,” Pansy continues seriously, “ is if you’re about to die and we have to do something like go get Dumbledore for help.”
Draco looks between the two of them, both hopeful and nervous at the same time. On the one hand, if he did tell them everything there would be hell to pay. Sure, he trusted them with his life and all, but he knows how Slytherins are. More than that, he knows purebloods. They would do anything for their own gain, including cross him. But….he also knows that family means everything to them, and he was considered family. Family broke rules for each other, family always comes first.
“Why?” He asks carefully, “Why those rules? What’s in it for you?”
Blaise grins, “I told you he would say that!”
“Naturally,” Pansy rolls her eyes, “Look, Draco. Last year I think I slept maybe once a week because I was so worried about you, and this year is no different. If you agree, Blaise and I can stop losing our bloody minds over you because we’d know you were safe. If you can’t lie to us, we can’t lie to you. Same with betrayal. It’s a two way street with how our friendship started.”
“You’re the one who isn’t being open, hiding things, and clearly in need of help even though you refuse to admit it. We are, and have always been, loyal to you. We’re just tired of you not returning the favor.”
Damnitt! They used the loyalty card...his weakness… They had always been there for him. Had he really become so closed off? When did he stop trusting his friends? LuLu loved them, she treated Blaise like her personal pillow and Pansy like her throne. If LuLu trusted them, shouldn’t he? He didn’t have many people he could trust...and that number was sure to go down in the future...
“What if,” Draco looks down at his feet, “What if I’m not who you think I am?”
“You’re still our Draco,” Blaise replies, no hesitation.
“And we are still family, we will always be loyal to you, no matter who you are. Whether you think so or not, we know you are going to be great. And you know how much Slytherins love greatness.”
Fuck. He would have to let Dumbledore know about this. And Snape. Hell, he’d probably have to tell Potter too before he signed it. But, even if they all said no, he already knew his name would be on the stupid thing eventually.
“This is going to seem silly,” Draco starts, “But I need that in the contract. Bring it to the Astronomy tower after dinner tomorrow, I’ll meet you there after my extra assignment with Lupin. We’ll go over every word, work out any discrepancy, and if it meets everyone’s standards….”
“We’ll sign it.”
“In blood.”
Three sets of eyes meet right as the bell to change classes rings, thank everything he’d only missed Potions.
----------
Draco’s suspicions about Dumbledore’s sanity, or lack thereof, were confirmed the second he told the boy that he thought a group of thirteen year olds making a blood-and-magic binding contract was a good idea.
“I do think I agree with your friends. Think of it this way, allies are hard to come by, and you have two throwing themselves at your feet. This way you will be safer, and have the freedom to confide in whoever you chose, plus the contract sounds painless, if there was danger in it I would simply not allow it, but this seems more like your friends are rather protective of you. I daresay they have good reasons to be.”
And although Snape had always seemed at least somewhat the sanest of them all, he was almost ecstatic at the idea. Although, Draco has a very big feeling that was probably because of how livid he had been when he found out about the abuse...his ears rang until dinner form the lecture.
“I told you to come to me about these things! A cut is one thing, but this? I cannot express the longing I feel to hex your father, the only reason I haven’t is because of the danger it would pose! I really ought to hex you! Should he raise another finger to you, I will know about it . Is that clear? Furthermore you should know that signing these types of contracts are extremely serious and cannot be broken once your blood is on the page. You’ll each need a copy of it and not, once it is signed you cannot change the contents but it will aid in your safety and I am willing to risk others for that at this point-”
Draco really couldn’t believe they agreed, didn’t anyone see how ridiculous it was? Surely Potter would. He just had to find a way to get Harry alone so they could talk and he could rant and rave about how stupid it was. Draco honestly expected to have to hunt the boy down, not walk in Lupin’s classroom for his Dementor Class and see the boy casually eating chocolate with his professor.
“Ah!” Lupin smiles at him, “I thought you’d never show up! Don’t worry, Dumbledore’s told me everything-”
“-Of course he did-”
“-And you and Harry will be studying at the same time. I rather hope you can help each other, although Draco you might have to face the boggart.”
Wonderful. The cherry on top of his perfect day. Maybe he could accidentally hex Potter and get away with it...Harry smiles at him and maybe he could just pull the boy aside and talk to him before they left. Less clean up that way.
It’s honestly amusing to watch Potter fail so many times, landing at least three times on his ass before throwing up frustrated hands. Draco can’t hold back his laughter, and he does regret informing Harry that he can produce a Patronus, thank you very much.
“What do you think about then?”
Draco raises an eyebrow, “Excuse me? Is this really the time to get an inside look into my mind?”
“No, you giant prat, what do you think about when you make your Patronus?”
Well isn’t this going to make for an interesting conversation. Lupin looks like he would also like to know, which makes Draco squirm and really, he’s shown Harry himself being beaten to a pulp, why should he care about this?
“I think about things that matter to me.” He says, really hoping that Scarface won’t pry.
Naturally he does, “What do you mean?”
“Like…” Fuck, how did he word this? “Like my mother. Her and I laughing and dancing on Christmas mornings. Or my friends, Pansy and Blaise, and the small moments we share that just mean something to me…”
Harry doesn’t say anything, and still looks very confused so he continues.
“Look. What works for me might not work for you, but happiness comes in all shapes and forms. The things I told you help, but there’s also flying your first broom; realizing someone important to you didn’t die and was just being a big idiot; having someone tell you you’re the son they’ve never had. Anything that makes you feel a little less lost, something that gives you a sense of who you are. Those are powerful emotions, Potter. Even if the memories aren’t completely happy.”
“Well said, Draco,” Lupin beams at him. Harry looks like he finally gets it, standing to face the boggart once more.
“Can I try again, professor? I think I have something...Draco kinda helped.”
He would snap at Harry that it’s Malfoy to him, but the boggart’s briefcase is opening and Harry shouts the spell so powerfully he can honestly call Draco whatever the hell he wants to. A glowing doe forces the thing back, and he shouldn’t be, but he’s just as proud as Lupin.
Potter, finally learning to protect himself instead of throwing himself into danger. This would do wonders for Draco’s stress levels.
“I did it!” The boy yells, almost bouncing with happiness. Draco himself is fighting a large smile. Lupin just grins, “You did! I’m very proud of you.”
“Can I try again?”
Draco shakes his head, “Potter, you just went against it at least five times. Take a rest or you’ll burn yourself out.”
Harry snorts at him. “Please, you’re just jealous that I’m not afraid of my boggart.”
“I think you missed the definition of a boggart that day in class. It is quite literally your biggest fear.”
“And I faced it at least five times, didn’t I?”
Draco starts up a chant in his mind; Don’t lose your cool over and over and over but then Lupin, the traitor, has an idea.
“You do need to practice, Draco. How about, we have Harry stand in front of the boggart so it takes the shape of a Dementor, and you can cast your Patronus on it. Sound good?”
“No!”
Lupin’s reaching for the latch.
“Sir! I don’t want to be anywhere near that thing!”
Harry gets into position.
“Wait-”
The latch breaks open, and the Dementor is back. Only it doesn’t face Potter, it turns to him and starts to take a very different shape. Black cloak melts to the floor, hood turning into locks of black hair that still as the three of them watch a Dementor morph into Harry, neck snapped, bloodied and very clearly dead.
Draco can’t move. He can see Alive and Real Harry gasping in his peripherals, but Dead and Crawling Towards Him Boggart Harry has captured his full attention. He can’t imagine why.
Dead Harry reaches him, grabs the leg of his robes and whispers, “ Why didn’t you save me? ” before Lupin steps in and they’re suddenly looking at a full moon.
“Riddikulus!”
The awful thing flies back into its box, Lupin chasing after it and sitting on top of the lid so he can properly lock it.
“Well,” the man huffs, “I think that has been extremely educational, what do you say to a cup of tea?”
Draco and Harry don’t move.
“Yes, then. That is most definitely a yes.”