Yes, yes. It took me a little longer than usual to post this chapter. I've been a bit lazy these past few weeks. And a bit stuck on certain parts. Several of these scenes were a bitch to conclude; and I had to completely rewrite three of them. Sorry it took so long, though. :sheepish grin:
Author's Note: ... :looks at review total: ... :is struck speechless: ... Holy cow... Thanks, guys. Thank you so much for reviewing! You have no idea how happy it makes me knowing that so many of you like this story so much! I'm almost sad that we're about to see the end of it... :sniffles:
But don't worry! I have a sequel in the works. YAY!
And now... enjoy!
Harry Potter and the Secret Link Part 27
As the dawning day broke upon the hallowed castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one could not help but to mentally contemplate on how cheesy the scenery was. Early birds were chirping their cheeriness to all that were willing to listen, the weather was pleasantly chill in comparison to the beaming sun that shone down on the Scottish greenery, and even the Forbidden Forest looked a little less dark and foreboding than it usually did. All and all, if one were to judge an entire day by the first few moments after dawn, things were shaping up to be a lovely day, especially after such a stressful night.
Of course, if it had been dark and wet and miserable with ominous black clouds and flooding rains, it probably still would have looked like a lovely day. At least they were all alive with souls still intact.
"I knew he couldn't have been an ordinary dog. Ordinary dogs don't laugh at seemingly ordinary snowmen."
"Gruff."
"You're just jealous because you're a bad actor, Butch."
"I still can't believe you expect me to swallow some story about Sirius Black being innocent. The Ministry of Magic... Wait. The Ministry is filled with bumbling morons who couldn't find a Death Eater if he beared his arm for all and sundry to see in the middle of the Minister's inauguration parade down Diagon Alley. Sod that, he must be innocent."
The Grim-like dog snorted ruefully.
Draco just wanted to take a long soak in a bubble bath with cucumber slices over his eyes, a lot of deep skin-cleansing treatments, some minor therapy, and a bottle of mouthwash potion. Knowing that a dementor's soul-sucking mouth had been over his not three hours ago made him want to wretch violently all over someone else's nice, clean robes. Speaking of which, he would probably burn the clothes he was wearing while he was at going at this whole cleansing thing. Will wash, and wash, but will never feel clean.
A nice, stiff shot of Firewhiskey wouldn't have gone amiss, either.
"I just want to pass out in a bed somewhere," Duo said casually as the group of students and the large dog jogged tiredly up the steps that led to Hogwarts' grand entrance. "Actually, I could probably even do without a bed. I just want to pass out and sleep for the next, oh, month or so."
... Or pass out in a bed somewhere. Draco was feeling a might too fatigued for the whole spa treatment, anyway. However, the mouthwash potion was a mandatory necessity. Ewww... Dementor drool...
"Jeez, Dragon Boy, if you're gonna upchuck, do it the other way."
Draco, perhaps a little green with the threat of losing whatever was left in his stomach after such a horrible night, glared at Duo. "Nice to know you care. Prat."
"Hey! I care!" Duo protested with a laugh. "At least you have your soul. And it's not like it was your first kiss or anything..." At Draco's stricken look, followed immediately by the Malfoy heir running to purge his stomach over the steps, Duo winced sympathetically. "Ew... So I'm guessing I was wrong about the first kiss."
His benignant comment was followed immediately by a loud, messy heave as Draco's stomach muscles seized up into a tight ball, properly expelling everything that had yet to digest fully.
----------
Harry Potter was disturbed from his hazy, unremarkable dream by the soft dulcet tones of a familiar voice calling his name. He pulled himself into a sitting position sluggishly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he simultaneously raked his hand through his messy, bed-tangled hair, fighting back the urge to yawn as he blinked sleepily at the blurred figure that stood silently beside his four poster bed. It took a moment of squinting for his sluggish brain to catch up.
"Trowa?"
The Slytherin held something out to Harry casually; once again, squinting identified the object as his glasses, which he quickly accepted and slipped onto the bridge of his nose with only minor sleepy fumbling. "How did you get in here?... Did something...?" Suddenly he was wide awake, his nerves on high alert as he imagined the worst possible scenario. "Is it about Duo?"
The tall Slytherin nodded solemnly. "Duo and Draco are back."
Harry let out an explosive sigh of relief.
"Both are in the hospital wing being treated for dementor exposure, and Draco's exhibiting some common signs of shock. They'll be alright. They're resting now," he responded blandly, as if he were reading off a simple laundry list. Even though the news was so clinically delivered, Harry couldn't help but to feel ecstatic upon hearing that both Duo and Draco were relatively okay.
"That's great! When will we be allowed to visit them?"
"Probably later this evening," Trowa replied. "Quatre is with them now, despite Madam Pomfrey's protests about how her sleeping patients don't require a vigil. I came to give this back to you."
Harry frowned as the Slytherin passed him what appeared to be a scrap bit of parchment, but it only took a moment for him to realize what it was. "The Marauder's Map? How did you get it?"
"I borrowed it last night," Trowa explained. "I was also told to inform you that you'll be getting your Firebolt back later this evening. Snuffles doesn't have the time to retrieve it right now, but rest assured, it's in a safe place."
"Wait..." 'I was told'? 'Snuffles'? "You know about...?"
Trowa shrugged. "It was pretty obvious."
"Only to you," Harry mumbled, glancing around the room. It appeared that everyone had already left, which was odd; Ron was never one to leave him behind to sleep in, even on the weekends.
"The others were already gone when I got here, but Ron was here a few minutes ago," Trowa said, apparently noticing Harry's small frown. "He wanted to give you a few more minutes of sleep. He said it sounded like you had nightmares all night."
The Gryffindor didn't really remember dreaming at all, but he wouldn't have been surprised if he did have some rather terrible nightmares. He certainly felt like he hadn't rested for more than a few moments at a time during the night.
Hold on a tick... Sirius needed Harry's Firebolt, and Trowa 'borrowed' Harry's map. Add that to the vague recollection that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Trowa, Quatre, Wufei, or Heero moments after the Aurors led the four Hogwarts Houses back to their dormitories... In fact, Hermione had specifically remarked that she didn't see Trowa or Heero amongst the group of leaving Slytherins anywhere...
"You sneaked out of the castle last night," Harry said accusingly. "You ran off to save Duo and Draco." The tall Slytherin boy didn't even bother to deny it. "Trowa! They were kidnaped by Death Eaters -fully trained witches and wizards wouldn't go on such a suicide mission, much less four students who know maybe two years worth of spells!"
Despite what many may have had to say about Trowa Barton, the boy could definitely speak volumes with a single shift in his facial constructs. In this case, an eyebrow rose sardonically, as if saying, 'Hello, Pot. My name is Kettle.' Well, without sounding so glib about it, anyway. "Thus the reason Snuffles came with us."
"Sirius is reckless!" Harry protested hotly. "He's an attention-starved man that's forced to be confined to hiding when everybody knows he can't stand being left behind!"
"He volunteered."
"Thus proving he's reckless!"
"Harry, are you really upset that we left to save Duo and Draco," Trowa inquired pointedly, "or are you upset that we deliberately left you behind?"
"So it was deliberate!" And damn Trowa for being so perceptive, anyway.
"Yes," Trowa said serenely, that eyebrow raising again. "We had one objective -to remove Duo and Draco from a possibly fatal situation without endangering said objective with personal feelings. Enacting any sort of retribution for past misdeeds could have endangered that objective. It was therefore decided that it would be best not to include you on our search and rescue, especially considering the facts. Voldemort has wronged you on so many intimate levels. We didn't have a guarantee that you would show any restraint."
Harry didn't have an argument for that. Would he have shown any restraint even when expressively told to do so? He didn't know for certain, but he somehow doubted he would have been capable.
That didn't mean he wanted to verbally confirm that to Trowa, though.
The Slytherin apparently saw Harry's reluctant agreement in his face. Trowa nodded thoughtfully, walking to the exit of the dormitory. He paused at the threshold of the doorway, turning only to quietly say, "You, Hermione, and Ron should visit Duo and Draco after dinner. I think they'd like that."
Harry smiled ruefully. "I was planning on it."
----------
Heero was reluctant to leave Duo alone, even if his boyfriend was sleeping for the time being. The last thing he wanted to do was allow Duo to leave his sight so soon after he'd gotten the American back, but he'd made a promise to spin a tale for Dumbledore and his group. While Duo was capable of a few well-meaning half-truths, the American still kept his vow that he would never outright lie.
Dumbledore wasn't alone in his office, though Heero wasn't surprised that the Headmaster was awake this early in the day. The strange woman Sirius called Tonks was present, as well as Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. There were several others whose faces weren't quite so familiar, other than the fact that the ones present were all either Aurors or part of Dumbledore's private militia.
"Headmaster," Wufei greeted stoically, every bit the dignified Chinese scholar as he stiffly took the seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. Heero merely nodded at the man in acknowledgment before taking the seat beside his fellow pilot.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Mr. Chang. I hear the five of you have been on quite the adventure." The old man straightened, seemingly far more solemn than before. "You do realize, of course, that the four of you left school grounds when it was specifically forbidden for you to do so."
Wufei's eyes flashed. "I can assure you that the consequences of our actions were well worth the effort, Headmaster."
"So it seems," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, ignoring the outraged expressions of some of his loyal followers. "Duo Maxwell and Draco Malfoy are now safe with us, once again. May I ask how you managed to find them?"
"Tracker spells," Wufei answered confidently. "We cast them as soon as we found each other again. We won't be separated again."
"I see," Dumbledore replied in good-humor. "How very useful. Sirius has informed me that Draco Malfoy almost had a rather unfortunate mishap with a dementor. Madam Pomfrey's report on his condition confirms a serious case of dementor exposure and shock, while Duo suffers from a relatively mild case of dementor exposure. Tell me, what has happened?"
"Black and I entered Malfoy Manor at exactly twenty minutes after two in the morning," Heero said monotonously. "Duo had already initiated a failed escape attempt by that time. There was blood approximately thirty feet away from the exit, a single bullet casing located near the wall. The scene was relatively fresh, anytime between fifteen to forty-five minutes old. The smell of gunpowder was still in the air. I'd surmised that Duo had used the situation to his advantage; Lucius Malfoy had apparently been present at the time, and Duo had taken Draco as his temporary hostage. A Death Eater, ignorant of the implications of a gun and dismissive of a muggle weapon, had made a move that Duo had taken to be hostile. That Death Eater is dead."
"I'm sorry to hear that such measures had to be taken," Dumbledore said regretfully. "An old man like me never likes to hear how a teenager's hand was forced in such matters."
Heero didn't bother to reply to that. "Black and I moved further down the corridor until we heard voices. Four Death Eaters -Avery, Nott, Malfoy, and McNair. They were talking about what had happened in the foyer. Jansen is the name of the Death Eater Duo killed, as they were discussing the event that had transpired previously. I learned then that Duo and Draco were left alone with Voldemort; however, I knew nothing of the layout to the manor. I decided it would be pertinent to eliminate the loose ends and have Lucius Malfoy lead us to Duo and Draco."
"So you, too, had to take away lives this night," Dumbledore said somberly.
Heero met the old man's eyes evenly. "Avery and McNair felt no pain, though Nott's knee will probably bother him for the rest of his life."
"You killed the others," Tonks said incredulously, as if the thought of someone as young as Heero killing anyone was completely beyond the scopes of reality, "but you left Nott alive? Why?"
"Because Theodore Nott is my roommate," Heero said evenly. "I did not want to be the one responsible for the loss of a relative."
Wufei glanced at Heero then, appearing oddly pensive. "You're getting soft, Yuy."
"That's my business," Heero said, shooting the dark-eyed Ravenclaw a watered down glare. "Theodore Nott sleeps in the same quarters as me. Should he have found out I was responsible for the elder Nott's murder, I would never be able to sleep unguarded. It wasn't the efficient choice. I left the man alive."
"I never said getting soft was wrong," Wufei said, smirking.
Hn. "Black disarmed Malfoy," Heero went on to explain, nodding his head toward the aforementioned man. Black remained quiet; apparently, he was satisfied with allowing Heero to explain. "I informed Malfoy that leveling his family home to the ground was perfectly within our capabilities. Meanwhile, Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei were standing by, ready to do just that should I have given them the signal. Malfoy decided to cooperate and led us to Duo and Draco. I stopped him just short of opening the door to ask who was in the room. He told us that Draco, Duo, and Voldemort were in there. I assumed that he was hoping Voldemort could take care of us, but Malfoy was shocked to find that a black-shrouded creature was hovering over Draco. It appeared that the creature was preparing to kiss Malfoy's son, and Malfoy was visibly upset by the scene."
"So the Dark Lord nearly had the son of his favorite Death Eater Kissed?" Lupin asked. "Why?"
"Maxwell said that old Voldemort was having some vanity issues," Black said suddenly. "Wormtail screwed up the ritual that restored his mortality, and really, he should have expected a bunk-up of that magnitude when dealing with an idiot like Wormtail. Combined with his fear of dying, well, the Dark Lord apparently wanted a new body and Draco was 'the prettiest'. I guess it didn't hurt that Draco descends from a pureblood family that's always been a little sympathetic to his cause."
"The dementor had just began the Kiss when Malfoy called out his son's name," Heero went on. "Duo appeared dazed and lost until Malfoy Senior's voice snapped him out of it. From what Black tells me, what Duo did next is supposed to be impossible."
"He killed the dementor," Black said eagerly. "He just slashed at it with this thing he'd been hiding up his sleeve, cutting it right in half. It just burst into tiny white lights and disappeared. I never thought it was possible! Have you ever heard of anything like that, Albus?"
The Headmaster appeared thoughtful and, perhaps for the first time, a little unsure about the report. "I don't recall ever hearing about anything of the sort being possible. To die, something must live. A dementor is not only a terrible creature in that it steals away one's happy memories and feeds on one's soul, but that it does not live. From all reports, the only defense against such a creature is the Patronous Charm."
"What weapon did Maxwell use?" Snape inquired suddenly, his eyes narrowed in thought. Heero considered the man for a moment; according to rumors, the man knew much of the Dark Arts and, in fact, desired the DADA position because of that interest. The man would certainly do a better job than the sniveling idiot that currently occupied that post.
"A scythe," Heero replied. "I don't know where he got it, nor do I know how long he's had it. As far as Duo is aware, it's just a normal weapon. He doesn't know what he did to trigger whatever secret power the scythe holds, or if it holds any power at all."
"What happened next?" Tonks asked eagerly, leaning forward in her seat by the Headmaster's desk. She appeared more than a little enraptured with Heero's account, though Heero didn't know why.
"Duo threatened to kill Voldemort if they ever met again," Heero responded. "Voldemort appeared a little uncertain, as if he didn't know how to interpret Duo's show of strength. I believe Voldemort's reluctance to force that power from Duo when he knew nothing about it is why he let us leave with Draco without any opposition."
"Do you know why the Death Eaters took Duo in the first place?" Dumbledore asked, seemingly innocent. Heero didn't bat an eyelash, positive that the old man knew a lot more about Duo's peculiar situation than he was letting on.
"Crime of convenience," Heero lied with a straight face, taking great care not to give away his lie. He had been well versed on all twenty-three classic signs of lying early on in his training, and he was glad for it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to fool anyone if he avoided eye contact or blinked rapidly, especially when nearly half of the occupants in the room appeared to be a law enforcement official of some kind. "There were few Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor, and Avery had mentioned something about using Duo as a form of entertainment when the Dark Lord finished with him. He implied that he planned to torture Duo while constantly referring to him as a 'mudblood', though I'm not familiar with the term."
"You're a Slytherin," a tall black man said, obviously suspicious, "and you aren't familiar with the term 'mudblood'?"
The Glare that was directed at the man clearly stated something along the lines of "I don't need spells to disfigure you -and my way tends to be permanent." The man, respectfully decked out in full Auror regale, seemed to tense up at the implied threat behind Heero's steely Prussian blue eyes.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Heero demanded coldly.
"Now, now, Kingsley," Dumbledore said mildly. "You know as well as I do that Mr. Maxwell and these four students before me are relatively new to the wizarding world, and as far as I'm aware, there have been no reports of Draco Malfoy or his fellow sixth year Slytherin students making any slanderous comments about muggleborn students. I also happen to know that Mr. Yuy would never go as far as to lie about what he doesn't know. He's far too proud to even pretend to be ignorant, so when he says he doesn't know what that derogatory word means, he honestly doesn't know."
Wufei snorted. "Yuy and Barton are rather disconcerting to their housemates. It only stands to reason that the Slytherins would tread matters carefully when they are around." The Chinese youth was, of course, looking directly at the man called Kingsley as he said this, obvious condescension dripping from his tone as he eyed the Auror in barely concealed disrespect. It was as if Wufei had taken Kingsley's suspicion personal, but Heero wouldn't have been surprised if Wufei thought Heero was lying, too. The Chinese boy was probably more disgusted over the fact they'd given the man no reason to suspect foul play whatsoever, and the man was still suspicious, instead of anger that the Auror had subtly tried to prove that Heero was lying in the first place.
"So it's a derogatory term for muggleborns, I assume," Heero said flatly.
"You're correct," Dumbledore replied. "Some purebloods believe that muggleborns and halfbloods are tainted, dirtied with muggle blood. It's a severe insult."
Heero snorted. He hadn't felt guilty about killing Avery and McNair, but he hadn't been happy about the necessity of disposing of them. Knowing that they so casually insulted his boyfriend assured that he wasn't going to lose any sleep over it.
"Unless you have any questions, Headmaster," Wufei said, "I believe I'm speaking for both Yuy and myself when I say that we would like to take our leave now. Despite the fact that Maxwell and Malfoy are safe and recovering, I have no doubt in my mind that Yuy would prefer to be in the infirmary with Maxwell."
The man called Kingsley appeared to have wanted to ask more questions, but Dumbledore was quick to say, "Of course, of course..."
"Albus," Kingsley protested, giving the older man a sharp look.
"I am positive that Mr. Yuy and Mr. Chang have both truthfully answered any questions that we had that are relevant to the matters at hand," Dumbledore said warmly. "Both have been very up-front and honest about their activities since they left school grounds, and Mr. Yuy was kind enough to even admit to the fatalities of the Death Eaters due to his hand. The boys have had a very eventful night, and I've no doubt that they would prefer a little downtime now."
Kingsley, far from mollified, reluctantly nodded his head.
"You two may go."
Heero left the office without a second glance, hearing Wufei murmur a quiet, "Headmaster," before the Chinese boy followed after him languidly. It wasn't until they were halfway to the infirmary before Wufei spoke.
"How much was left out?"
"A bit."
"How much was fabricated?"
Heero grunted. "A bit."
"How much is 'a bit'?" Wufei muttered sarcastically.
"Bit. Noun. A small piece or quantity. A unit of information expressed as either a 0 or 1 in binary notation."
Wufei laughed sharply, shaking his head. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"
Heero smirked.
----------
"A mild state of shock." Snort.
"Yes, Draco. A mild state of shock. As in, the state you were in when we came in here. It's that thing Madam Pomfrey diagnosed you with, remember?"
"What the hell does she know? Mild state?" Draco said incredulously. "A mild state of shock is what happens when a no-name Hufflepuff beats the Boy Who Lived to the snitch. I'm bloody traumatized, which is exactly the state of being that occurs when some ugly git wants to have a dementor suck out your soul because you're prettier than all of the other potentials. There's a difference! A big bloody difference!"
Duo stifled a small grin at the Malfoy heir's incessant complaints. The other boy had been soundly bitching about his so-called "diagnosis made by a fat, aging, completely unprofessional twit who couldn't get a real job in the medical field, causing her to have to resort to Dumbledore's compassion for idiots who can't get REAL jobs in their so-called speciality -and I use that term loosely!" since he woke up. The American figured that Draco was probably venting because of any number of reasons that spanned from anxiety, stress, and a staunch refusal to give himself enough time to come to terms with almost having his soul sucked out by a monster.
Madam Pomfrey seemed to be taking the abuse with a grain of salt. Apparently, she had been assaulted with such strong words from Draco before, to the point where she'd made it her personal duty to not rise to the blond's insults.
"On a lighter note, your complexion's looking a whole lot better," Duo pointed out, amused. "You've definitely lost that broccoli stalk hue. Still a bit pasty, though, but pasty's a good look for you."
Draco glared at Duo suspiciously. "I don't know whether to thank you for the compliment, or yell at you for not taking me seriously."
"Go for the medium -yell 'thank you' while addressing me with some sort of British slang for loser."
"Thanks a lot, you bogtrodding bastard."
"Nice. Bogtrodding. Haven't heard that one yet."
Draco broke out into a reluctantly amused smile. "I aim to please. Now stop trying to cheer me up. It's annoying."
Duo rolled his eyes. "I can't win with you, can I?"
"You got him to stop complaining for about, oh, a minute," Trowa said blandly. "That's a win if I ever saw one."
"If I wanted a comment from the peanut gallery," Draco said haughtily, "I'd ask for it. However, since I still consider you slightly intimidating, you can make any comment whenever you want."
"And Heero?" Duo said with a grin.
"The same."
"Wufei?"
"He wouldn't care if I wanted to hear it or not. He'd say it anyway."
"Quatre?"
"Has Trowa to beat me up for him." Draco threw his hands up in defeat. "Let's face it. I can't win with any of you."
Even Heero had to laugh at Draco's mock anguish.
The two patients hadn't been awake for long, but it was quite obvious that the two of them were a little less weary compared to the condition they'd been in when admitting themselves to the infirmary. Duo had been surprised that all four of his fellow pilots had been in the hospital wing with them for almost the entire time he and Draco were asleep, save for some necessary trips to Gryffindor Tower and the Headmaster's office. Quatre had managed to charm Madam Pomfrey into letting him sleep in the bed beside Duo, though Duo suspected it was the mediwitch that forced Quatre to lay down in the first place. Trowa had crawled into the small bed beside him, sitting against the headboard with the blond sprawled across his lap; the green-eyed boy was casually threading his fingers through Quatre's gold-spun hair as the boy slept even through Draco's loud tirade. Heero and Wufei assured Duo that the Headmaster had been quite satisfied by their report, even if a few of the Aurors present during the meeting were clearly not.
"Harry seems to be under the impression that facing the Death Eaters and Voldemort was extremely dangerous considering how much we're lacking in a magical education," Trowa had said idly after Heero and Wufei had made their comments about how their tale was received.
"That's rich coming from a muggle-raised idiot who's been defying the Dark Lord with his fat head since infancy," was Draco's retort. Duo didn't bother pointing out that the Malfoy heir had sounded grudgingly fond of Harry; the lack of scorn proved that, yes, the Malfoy could learn to actually like someone he once vehemently insisted he hated.
Duo was brought out of his pondering when he noticed that others were joining them in the hospital wing -namely the infamous Gryffindor Trio, who seemed to be a little wary that Blaise and Pansy had decided to visit Draco, as well.
The American plastered a wide grin on his face. "Hey, guys! Come baring the gift of get-well junk food? You shouldn't have!" Even so, Duo was eager to relieve Hermione of her sugary burden. Pansy offered the same to Draco, looking properly miffed that she hadn't been the only one to think of bringing the requisite goodies to typically sick patients.
"So what happened?" Ron asked, straddling an empty chair. "Trowa didn't really go into detail."
"That's what I'd like to know," Blaise added, shooting Draco a knowing glance. "So what big thing did the Dark Lord have planned for you?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Blaise. "You mean... Malfoy, you thought the Dark Lord wanted you for something?"
"Thought? No. Was convinced? Yes," Draco replied vaguely, picking over his treats with about as much interest as one possibly could when pointedly avoiding a subject. "And I knew it didn't involve some tacky tattoo, either."
"I was a bit surprised myself," Duo said lightly. "You weren't the target at all, Harry. Ol' Voldemort wanted Draco. Go figure, eh?"
Harry was apparently about to ask for an elaboration before a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans pelted him in the back of the head. He whirled around, snapping, "What the hell was that for, Malfoy?"
"For not telling me that the Dark Lord is such an ugly tosser, you git," Draco said accusingly. "Really, Potter, with as much as you natter on about the bloody Dark Lord, you'd think the fact he looks like a pasty snake would have come up!"
"I don't natter on about the Dark Lord!" Harry replied hotly. "I don't think I've ever mentioned Voldemort once since we started speaking civilly on a semi-permanent basis, you conceited prat!"
"Oh, don't mind him," Duo said casually, eyeing a suspiciously colored jelly bean that he'd picked out from his own box of Every Flavored Beans. "Draco's venting at everyone. It's how he deals with something he doesn't want to really think about, much less talk about."
Pansy smirked at the fuming Malfoy heir. "He's got you pegged so well."
"Don't help, Pansy," Draco mumbled, viciously tearing into a Chocolate Frog.
"So what happened?" Hermione said abruptly, looking to Duo for answers. "Harry said something about you two being treated for dementor exposure."
"It's none of your business, Granger!"
"Him more than me," Duo said with a shrug, pretending that Draco hadn't said anything. "Draco locked lips with a dementor."
"I'd try to kill you right now if I didn't know Heero would get to me first," Draco retorted monotonously.
Heero grunted in agreement, prompting Duo into sending his boyfriend a fond smile. Instead of crawling into the bed with Duo like Trowa had done with his own boyfriend, the reserved Japanese boy had settled into a chair right beside Duo, idly playing with the tail end of his braid.
Ron snorted. "Either the Kiss was interrupted, or the theory that Malfoy didn't have a soul to begin with has just been proven."
"I'm sorry your mother dropped you on your head so many times when you were a child, Weasel," was Draco's vicious retort.
"Interrupted," Heero said flatly. "The dementor was... disposed of."
Hermione, sharp as ever, said doubtfully, "Snuffles' Patronous Charm isn't very strong, and it's not exactly something we've covered in the curriculum yet..."
"Never heard of it," Duo said. "I apparently did the impossible. I killed a dementor." He held up the universal peace sign with a cheesy grin. "I rule."
"Professor Lupin said that a dementor can't be killed!"
"Oh, but I subscribe to the concept that everything can die," Duo said, his grin becoming slightly rueful, "which is probably how I did it. I'm stubborn like that, Harry."
"You still haven't explained why the Dark Lord almost had you Kissed, Draco," Blaise pointed out. "We've known he's been planning something for you for quite some time now. Why would he do something like that to the son of his right hand man?"
"Because I'm pretty," Draco said, clearly disgusted.
"Draco's young, handsome, and comes from a very influential pureblood family," Duo clarified. "Old Voldemort wanted to remove Draco's soul so he could transfer his own in its place. I guess someone who avoids death as much as that freak will go to the ends of the earth to find a quick cure for time."
"That's terrible," Hermione murmured sympathetically.
"So you actually touched lips with a dementor?" Ron said, leaning forward eagerly. "What was it like?"
Draco's face turned an interesting mix of an angry red and an ill green.
It was Wufei who came to Draco's aid, casually slapping the redhead on the back of the head with a scathing glance. "That's such a ridiculously inappropriate question, Weasley! What are you thinking?"
"It was just a question," Ron said defensively, rubbing the back of his head sullenly.
"A question I would have belted you for if you'd asked Sirius, mate," Harry pointed out quietly. "You have to admit, that was sort of insensitive, even if you don't like Malfoy."
Duo resisted the urge to grin like a lunatic. Draco was speaking fondly of Harry, Harry was defending Draco against his best friend... AND Harry had said 'even if you don't like Malfoy'. Not 'even if Malfoy is a prat' or 'even if we hate Malfoy'. Oh, yeah. They were smitten with each other all right. Next stop: getting the two of them that they actually liked each other, and not in the platonic sense.
"I guess this is the point in time when we make our other delivery," Blaise said with a heavy look toward Pansy. The girl nodded solemnly.
"Other delivery?" Draco said suspiciously, watching as his friend reached into the sleeve of her robes. She pulled out an innocent envelop, passing it to the Malfoy heir somberly.
"This came for you during dinner," she explained quietly, sitting back in her chair. Draco stared at the envelop for a moment, his gaze slightly unfocused.
"Draco?" Duo inquired quietly.
The Malfoy heir didn't even look up from his lap when he replied.
"It's... it's from my father."
TBC...
:singsong: Cliffhanger... :runs away:
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