The Dragon's Child Bride

CHAPTER 18: Friend to Enemy to Executioner (beta\'d)

Draco woke up to an empty bed the next morning. Laylani had slipped out just before six, not wanting to wake him so early. He shut off his alarm and checked the clock. It was seven a.m, which left him an hour to get ready for breakfast. He indulged in a leisurely bath before grooming himself to his usual meticulous perfection. With ten minutes to spare he left for the Great Hall.

He sat down near the end closest to the door so Laylani would be sure to see him; she was more likely to sit with them if she couldn’t find him at the Slytherin table. She entered the Hall just minutes after and sat down next to him. She rested her hands in her lap as they waited for the meal to begin and he placed a hand on top of hers.

“Where were you this morning?” he asked, a trace of a pout in his voice. She grinned; he could be such a brat sometimes.

“I went back to my room to take a shower and change. You looked so peaceful; I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Well, you should have.” She rolled her eyes.

“Do you remember the last time I tried to wake you up? How successful was that?” Draco smirked.

“As I recall, that incident had some very interesting and enjoyable results. In fact -”

Their conversation was cut short as Crabbe and Goyle both dropped heavily onto the bench at Draco’s other side. Despite having to get used to Draco leaving their dorm and having a steady girl, they were still his ever faithful sidekicks. That’s what bothered Laylani about them; they had no real sense of self that wasn’t dependent on someone else. They would be whatever they were needed to be without question, and Laylani didn’t trust that kind of nature. The couple ate their breakfast, unaware that they were being watched.

Dumbledore observed the couple throughout the meal from his place at the Head Table. He had stayed up most of the night pouring over texts, strategizing, worrying and despite all of that he still had no idea what he could do for Laylani, if anything could be done. However, he would not give up on that girl without a fight. If there was a way to save her, to somehow change her prophetic fate, it would be found. Dumbledore had already called for a meeting between all faculty and the available members of the Order of Phoenix for that afternoon after classes.

As for Draco, he was still quite unsure of how to tell him. How can one tell a boy that everything his father taught him was a lie, that everything he knew was wrong? Would Draco even believe it coming from Dumbledore? Though the boy was courteous in his presence, the unflattering statements Draco had made about Dumbledore over the years had made their way to his ears one way or another. Draco wasn’t likely to believe anything that came from the mouth of someone he considered a ‘muggle-loving old fool.’

Breakfast ended and the students left for their first class. For Laylani, it was History of Magic. Despite what Harry had told her on the first day, Laylani loved that class. There were so many more stories that she hadn’t yet read. It was the only class where she didn’t know most everything that was being taught. Professor Binns had never had such an enthusiastic student. That day was a riveting reading and lecture on the centaur uprising in the 14th century.

She was walking down the nearly empty hallway to her next class when she heard her name called. Laylani turned around to see Harry hurrying to catch up to her. She wondered what he was doing in this part of the castle, knowing when she had History, he had Divination up in the North Tower which was clear across the school. However, seeing her friend was always a pleasure whether it was expected or not. She came to a halt and waited for him to catch up.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.

“Of course. What’s up?” Harry drew a deep breath. He didn’t know how to start this conversation. What could he say to tell her that he might be in love with her and was willing to do anything to rescue her from a horrible fate? He struggled to find any kind of words for this.

“How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. How are you?” Harry could have smacked himself. That hadn’t worked at all.

“No, I mean, how are you really?” Her brow furrowed.

“I’m really fine. Why do you ask?” Laylani’s eyes were ripe with a sweet and innocent confusion. Harry grunted in frustration at his inability to make his true question clear to her. He turned to face the stone wall, leaning up against it as he strained to find the words that would tell her what he meant. She rested a soft hand on his shoulder.

“What is it, Harry?” She was worried. What was wrong with this poor boy? Harry gave up. There was no sensitive way to go about this. He whirled around and grabbed her shoulder with a firm hand.

“Laylani, are they hurting you?”

“What?” she laughed. This had to be some kind of joke that she wasn’t getting. His somber eyes brought her laughter to an awkward halt.

“The Malfoys, Draco, are they hurting you?” She gaped for a moment, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she could get out an answer.

“Wha - No! No, of course not. Harry, why would you say something like that?” Although his grip on her shoulder had relaxed in its intensity, it still remained there as he drew a little closer, wanting her to tell him the truth that he’d known almost the whole time.

“Laylani, this is really important. You need to tell me the truth.”

“What truth? Harry, I don’t understand.” Damn, this was more trying then he’d thought. Harry assumed once he’d confronted her, she would be eager to give up this silly charade of a relationship with the Pureblood Ferret and finally tell the truth. Maybe if she knew he knew, she wouldn’t be so reluctant to talk about it.

“Lani, it’s okay. I know.” She shook her head, looking thoroughly confused now.

“Then tell me because obviously I don’t!” Harry let out a sigh. He dragged his hand down his face as an act of frustration, and then grabbed both her shoulders, squaring her body with his.

“Laylani, I know the Malfoys are forcing you to marry Draco. What I need to know is how and why so we can find a way to get you out of it.”

“What are you talking about? No one’s forcing me to do anything; there’s nothing to get out of.” Harry smiled compassionately.

“Laylani, you can’t honestly expect me to believe you want to marry that prat, so why don’t you just tell me the truth.” Laylani shrugged his hands off her shoulders.

“I am telling you the truth. I want to marry Draco, I love him.” Her voice wasn’t exactly cold, but it was far less friendly then it was when the conversation had started.

The words ‘I love him’ were like daggers in Harry’s heart. She couldn’t really love him, could she? It wasn’t possible to love someone so incapable of feeling any nice emotions, let alone loving them in return, was it? Her statement sent his mind reeling. Before he knew it his mouth was sputtering out the thoughts that were flying through his scattered brain.

“B-but no! You can’t, you can’t love him! He’s a bastard and an arrogant fuck…he doesn’t love you. The Ferret doesn’t even know what love is.” Her eyes narrowed and the voice she spoke with was definitely cold.

“Harry Potter, don’t you ever speak about him like that to me. Draco loves me and I love him and we are getting married, end of story. You can just forget about whatever little delusional story you’ve cooked up.” Laylani took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of her temper before she hexed this boy with something she would surely regret. She sighed. “Damn it Harry, what difference is it to you anyway? Even if he didn’t love me, why the hell does it matter to you?”

Harry could feel himself blushing. He had imagined telling her his feelings so many times, and now it seemed all wrong. “I…well, I, kind of, sort of….” Harry steeled his courage and resolved to just tell her and get it out of the way, maybe that would change her mind. “Laylani, I think I’m in love with you.”

For a moment everything was still and no sound disturbed their silence. Laylani’s eyes softened and she sighed. In a much kinder voice, she spoke again.

“Oh, Harry, I - I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way.” Was this a good sign?

“I do, and I promise I’ll do anything it takes to save you.”

“Harry, there’s nothing to save me from.” All her earlier anger was gone now that things were finally starting to make some sense to her. She tried to put it as delicately as possible, not wanting to hurt her friend’s feelings anymore then was absolutely necessary. “I want to marry him. I love Draco and he’s the only one I‘ll ever love like that. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry could almost feel his heart ripping apart in his chest. He’d made a fool of himself and she rejected him. She had chosen Malfoy over him, despite the fact that Malfoy didn’t, couldn’t, love her. He had held his heart out to her and she’d stomped on it in favor of the Ferret King. Harry needed to get out of there. His eyes looked everywhere but at her while he spoke.

“Uh, Laylani, I need to go. There’s…something I forgot.” Without even waiting for her to answer, he turned around and made a swift departure leaving her alone in the empty hallway.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dumbledore sat at his desk while his small office filled up with people trying not to crowd each other and muttering back and forth. Although his initial plan with Ms. Kerrin entailed as few people knowing as possible for respect to the girl’s privacy, he’d reconsidered during the night and had changed his mind. There was no way he would be able to monitor the girl by himself, and she would be too wary around members of the Order whom were strangers to her and would reveal nothing. However, her teachers and friends were already part of her everyday life, and would be able to observe her for signs of the calling without arousing suspicion.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were the last to arrive and sat themselves near the rest of the Weasley family. There was barely time for a quick ‘hello’ when Dumbledore rose. He made his statement without fanfare or preamble, using clear and simple terms so that there would be no confusion as to what exactly had been discovered.

“The foreseen child has been found.” The room was completely silent. Harry and Ron looked to Hermione to tell them what that meant, but she seemed as clueless as them. Arthur and Molly offered no help; their attention was riveted on the Headmaster. A murmur went through the group and Albus gestured for silence.

“Fortunately, the child is no longer in the hands of Voldemort. It seems he too has spent the last few years searching for her. As it is right now, she is a student, newly registered here at Hogwarts.” There was a collective sigh of relief.

Hermione leaned over towards her friends. “The only new student is -”

“Laylani.” finished Ron. Harry was silently trying to block them out, unwilling to think about the girl who had so recently hurt and rejected him.

“Then what are we standin’ about discussin’ for?” Mad Eye Moody was standing. “Kill him! There’s no prophecy if there’s no child.” Dumbledore shook his head.

“Alastor, it’s not that simple. The child escaped before the initiation rites, if she could be saved-”

“Save nothin\' Albus! That child was cursed to be evil the moment Voldemort got his hands on him and whether or not he has the Mark doesn’t change it. We need to kill ‘im while we can or he’ll destroy us all. If he gets the chance, it won’t be just killin’ he’s after! No, it’ll be the reign of fire and brimstone, hell on earth!”

“Moody, shut your gob or I’ll shut it for you!” barked Snape “And for Merlin’s sake, quit saying ‘he’, the child’s a female, you thick-headed sod!”

“If I could continue?” Dumbledore’s patience was waning. Moody lowered himself into his seat, engaging in an intense battle of steely glares between himself and Snape.

“As I was saying, she - yes, the child is female - was put through the first half of the training but escaped before the initiation rites, which means perhaps there is a chance she can be saved, maybe even changed for use of the Light.” Moody gave an indignant snort but Dumbledore ignored him. “She’s hardly what you would expect to be the child that would be the future epitome of evil. Her experience with Voldemort has left her highly guarded, extremely shy and decidedly nervous around strangers, particularly men, but other than that, she’s a very sweet and loving girl. Perhaps a little tempestuous when provoked but not at all violent or vengeful, which is what leads me to believe that she might have a chance of being saved of the fate the prophecy predicts.” That sent Moody back on a tangent. He stood up so quickly it knocked his chair back into the lap of Tonks, who sat behind him next to Kingsley and Remus.

“And you’re willing to gamble that when the stakes are the very lives of every witch and wizard? Albus, we’ve got to kill her now!”

“Alastor, we are not going to kill her and if you bring that up once more, I will obliviate your memory and remove you from all further activities of the Order, am I understood?” Moody scowled at the Headmaster but said nothing, resigning to sit down in an exaggerated huff.

“For now, all I ask is that you monitor her as closely as you can without being obvious. Watch her for any change. During the day and regular class hours, I expect that her professors and friends pay particular attention to her mannerisms and behavior. If there is any variance, it should be reported it immediately. During the evenings, members of the Order will invisibly guard her room and window, should she try to answer Voldemort’s call. Are there any questions?” Naturally Hermione’s hand shot up in the air.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Sir, what exactly is this prophecy?”

“My apologies, I’d forgotten that some of you hadn’t known.” He reached for Mari’s copy of the Dark Book on the shelf, turned it to the correct page and handed it to Hermione. Ron read over her shoulder and Harry looked away; he didn‘t want to know. The passage read:

***

The Dark Lord’s chosen child known by the mind
Molded in his image to inherit his reign
To come to His calling through the eve and the fingers of His force
Raised in cruelty to pass through the rites and consumed in madness
Will vanquish in His failing should the equal survive
Stepping forth to claim their world for darkness.

***

“So, even if Harry kills You-Know-Who, he’s still going to be killed?” Harry paled but still refused to read.

“Perhaps not. She was supposed to be put through the rites before the calling, but from what we know she escaped before that happened, which might give us a loophole to the prophecy.”

Ron gaped. “Might?”

“I’m afraid that’s the best that can be offered for the time being.” Throughout the group there were various emotions running high, fear, dread, hope, murderous rage, any of which Harry should have been feeling. Instead, all he felt was anger. It would be the first girl who he fell in love with that would be his killer.

‘Of course,’ he mused, ‘I’m the fucking Boy Who Lived.” A fat lot of good that had done him. Here he was, not even 18 years old and already his parents and godfather had been murdered, he spent the bulk of his childhood in severe abuse, there had been multiple attempts on his life, and he was cursed to either kill or be killed. It was only gravy that the girl he loved would kill him and then marry his worst enemy. His mind drifted into more morbid thoughts for the next several minutes until Hermione’s voice broke through his depressing reverie.

“Harry, are you coming?” He looked up. The meeting had ended and people were filing out of the room or flooing out through the fireplace. Harry got up and followed her and Ron out but instead of heading towards the Great Hall for dinner began to head towards the doors leading to the Quidditch Pitch. He was in no mood to eat; all he wanted to do was climb on his broom and watch the world fall away from under him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Professor Snape stayed behind as the others left at the Headmaster’s request.

“Please, Severus sit down.” The old man gestured to a chair near him. Although he was fine standing, Snape obliged his request.

“I must ask of you a favor, Severus, and I think perhaps only you can do this service for me.” Snape nodded.

“Of course, Headmaster.”

“For as much as we can watch the girl, it will do us very little good without more information and insight to her. From what I have observed and what Miss Kerrin has told me, there is only one person who can provide that, and that is young Mr. Malfoy. Despite what others may think of him, I believe he would be willing to take alliances with us instead of following in his father‘s footsteps, if only to keep her from harm. His opinion of me and most of the staff is not a secret. I hardly imagine he would believe most any of us if we were to tell him who and what Miss Stanners is, what Voldemort’s intends for her. But if it came from you, a man he respects and admires, he might be more willing to see the truth.” He paused for a reaction from Snape, but got none. The pale man’s face registered nothing but deep thought.

“So what you’re asking is that I be the one to tell him, I gather?”

“That’s correct.”

\"I see.” Despite his urges to turn Dumbledore down solely because it had to do with *that girl*, he questioned further. Perhaps, and only perhaps, he might owe it to the memory of Layla, despite her betrayal, to try and save her daughter. “Will I be limited by the means of which I should convince the boy?” Dumbledore pursed his lips.

“No,” he said slowly. “I suppose not, but any act of cruelty on our part will only push him and, consequently, Miss Stanners closer to the Dark Lord.” Snape nodded.

“Of course.” He had never any intention to hurt the boy, but it would involve revealing to him just what casual cruelty and unbiased hate was driving Voldemort on, which meant showing him things that no one should see. It meant breaking the ideological world of sheer black and white his father had spun for him.

“It won‘t be easy to sway the boy from a lifetime of brainwashing, but I shall try, Albus.”

“That’s all I ask.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco noticed Laylani was quiet at lunch, even more so than usual, and barely touched her food. She scarcely said a word through the other classes he had with her that afternoon, and she didn’t even come to dinner. Once the meal had begun it was quite obvious that something had really upset her, despite what she had told him the countless times he’d asked that afternoon. He got up, signaling for Crabbe and Goyle to stay behind. He was quite aware of how Laylani felt about them. He went to the kitchen first, knowing she’d be hungry by now.

He entered the kitchen via the portrait, and was immediately inundated by house elves welcoming him and offering food. ‘Damn it,’ he thought, ‘They all look alike.’ How was he ever going to find him? Finally he gave up and resorted to what used to work in his own home.

“DOBBY!” he called out commandingly. Almost immediately the cowering house elf appeared at his side, trembling at the call of one of his former masters.

“Y-yes, Master Draco?”

Draco bit down his temper that he was so used to showing the elf. He didn’t know why, but he knew Laylani didn’t like it when he was deliberately mean to the house elves.

“Dobby, do you know where Morphose house is?” Dobby nodded, eager to please his former master so as not to be subject to his cruelty.

“Yes Master Draco, Dobby knows, sir.”

“Alright, I need you to do something for me. I want you to bring some sandwiches there. It doesn’t matter what kind, just make sure they have plenty of mayonnaise on them, she likes that. And lots of pumpkin juice, too. It needs to be there in about fifteen minutes. Can you do that?”

Dobby was excited. Master Draco seemed to be in a good mood, and trusted only him to cater to a private date. “Yes, Master Draco. Dobby can do that.” Draco nodded.

“Good. Fifteen minutes then.” With that he left. Draco made his way to her room and knocked on the portrait. He knew the password, but it just didn’t seem right to barge in to her room when she didn’t know he was coming. He heard her footsteps approaching the painting.

“Who is it?” she called out in a cautious voice. Draco was surprised. Usually she would just swing the portrait open, ready to welcome in whoever came to visit with open arms.

“It’s Draco.” She opened the portrait a cautious inch to make sure it was him before she opened it all the way to hurry him inside, closing it quickly behind him. That was definitely odd behavior from her. She may be shy, but she had never been so cagey. Something had definitely upset her today.

Laylani sat herself on the couch and stared into the fire while absentmindedly spinning her engagement ring. Something told Draco that was what she’d been doing since classes had ended that day. He sat next to her, looking into the fire as well. All was maddeningly quiet for a few minutes. When Draco could take no more, he spoke.

“So, are we looking at something in particular or are you trying to hypnotize yourself?” She looked away from the fire to him, as if she was surprised he was there. She pursed her lips before she spoke.

“Sorry, Dragon. I guess I’m just a little out of sorts today.” Draco arched a brow.

“That’s a bit of an understatement. You’ve practically been the walking dead since lunch.” Before he could continue, Dobby appeared with a silver platter bearing a plate piled high with sandwiches, two cups and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. He placed in on the coffee table not far away. He turned and faced the two.

“Is there anything else Master Draco would be lik- OH! Dobby is so sorry; he didn’t know Master Draco would be having company already. Dobby is so sorry to interrupt. Dobby is in so much trouble. Dobby will punish himself for Master Draco.” Dobby was just about to hit himself over the head with the fireplace shovel when Laylani got up like a shot and yanked it out of his hands.

“No, no. There’s really no need for that. It looks like you’ve done a marvelous job with the sandwiches. Thank you very much… Dobby.” Laylani faltered at the end, trying to make sure she got the name right. It seemed vaguely familiar, but all the house elves names sounded so much the same, who knew? Dobby tried to pull back the shovel, believing that he was indeed in trouble.

“No! Dobby has interrupted Master Draco and his date and Dobby should be punished!” Laylani was surprised at the strength this tiny creature possessed, having to use all her might to keep him from pulling the flat end of the shovel against his head.

“Draco!” she called to him, her voice strained with struggle, “Tell him he’s not in trouble, tell him he doesn’t need to punish himself, tell him anything!” How could he just sit there?

Draco had been enjoying this up until that point. When he was younger it was sport to watch the house elves hurt themselves, and seeing Laylani trying to fight against it only made it that much more entertaining. However, he was not willing to get in hot water with her just to watch a house elf hit himself. He sighed.

“Laylani’s right, Dobby. You don’t need to punish yourself.” Dobby immediately let go of the shovel, causing Laylani to fall backwards. Dobby stared at her wide-eyed.

“Miss Laylani? Miss Laylani has come back?” Draco figured that question was directed to him.

“Yes.” he answered curtly, kneeling to help Laylani sit up. A smile spread across Dobby’s normally drained and nervous face and he approached the girl.

“So Miss Laylani was not being dead?” She shook her head. Suddenly Dobby was jumping up and down, bouncing off of nearby furniture with cries of delight. Just as quickly he was in front of her, holding her hand in his own trembling ones

“Oh, it is so wonderful to be seeing Miss Laylani again! Miss Laylani won’t be remembering Dobby, she was such a little one then, but Dobby remembers her! Dobby used to watch after her and young Master Draco when the house was being busy. Dobby used to do tricks and make snacks, go down to the beach by the lake and make sandcastles. Miss Laylani was always so sweet, and Master Draco was always so happy with her; he was so sad after she went away… but all that is done now, Miss Laylani has come back! It does Dobby good to see Miss Laylani again with Master Draco.” Laylani grinned. So the little house elf been some sort of nursemaid to her.

“Dobby will not be taking up any more time of Master Draco and Miss Laylani’s date. Miss Laylani, if you is ever needing anything to be done, be sure Dobby will be glad to help.” She smiled warmly at the house elf and he blushed crimson. “It is good to be seeing Miss Laylani again.” With a snap of his fingers he was gone, leaving Draco and Laylani sitting on the hard floor.

“Ah, I had Dobby bring us dinner. I thought you might be hungry. I don’t know what kind of sandwiches they are but I made sure to ask for plenty of mayonnaise, I know you like it.” She smiled, pleased and a little flattered that he remembered such a small detail.

“Thank you Dragon, they look great.” Laylani got up and handed Draco the platter. Once he had firm hold of it, she went back to drag the coffee table along the floor in front of the couch. The platter resumed its place on the table and they sat down to dinner. She bit into the first sandwich and what could almost be described as a moan escaped her throat, and her eyes closed in pleasure.

“Mmmm, mayonnaise is sooo damn good.” Draco smirked at her display of ecstasy over something as simple as a sandwich with mayonnaise; she was so easy to please sometimes. He waited until she finished her first sandwich before he tried to broach the question.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Her eyes widened slightly, but other than that she showed no indication that she’d heard him. She bit into a second sandwich, her eyes staring intently at the fire. Draco frowned. Malfoys were not to be ignored. He asked again, this time with more authority in his voice.

“Laylani, what happened?” She didn’t look away from the fire, but he saw uneasiness pass over her features. She swallowed; it had been too much to hope that he would just let it drop when she hadn’t answered him.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Like hell it is.” Why was she being so secretive? She usually told him everything.

“I had a little confrontation today, that’s all.”

“What kind of confrontation?” She sighed sorrowfully.

“Just a run-in with a friend…” Silence ensued.

“Well? Are you going to tell me about it?” She knew he wasn’t going to let it go until she gave him something that would satisfy his curiosity. At least he meant well.

“It was a bit of a difference of opinions. And I ended up having to say something that hurt them, and I think they hate me for it.” Her breathing hitched with a small sob. In a tiny voice she continued. “Its hard to see them, knowing that I hurt them and can’t change it or take it back.” It was upsetting for Draco to see her like this. She seemed so pitifully sad that he felt a twinge of sadness himself. It made him want to do whatever he could to rectify the situation, whether it meant paying the friend off to forgive her or beating them into oblivion until they forgave her, depending on what was needed.

“Which friend is it?” She hung her head. “Laylani, which friend?”

“Does it really matter, Draco?” He thought about that. He knew he was probably prying too much but if he wanted to help fix the situation, he would need to know the other person involved.

“Yes, it does.”

“Harry.”

Draco’s hands balled into fists at their own accord. That settled it, this situation definitely called for him to beat Harry into a bloody pulp. How dare that fucking scarred freak upset Laylani so much as to make her cry? Draco ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that pointed out the hypocrisy of his thought, noting the numerous times Draco’s words or actions had made her cry. That was different.

He got up with every intention of going out the door, finding Potter and torturing him until death would be a mercy. Draco didn’t take more than one step before he felt a hand wrap around his wrist.

“Don’t. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t. Please.”

“Lani, he can’t -”

“Please Draco, for me. Just leave it alone. Wouldn’t you rather stay here with me and finish dinner?” He sat back down with a huff, wrapping his arm over her shoulder in the process.

“Okay, for you. But if I see him come near you again…” She smiled feebly and leaned into his chest; Draco would always be her knight at ready to protect and rescue her, whether she needed it or not.

“Alright, love.”




A/N: Yes, I know this chapter is kind of boring but really, these things needed to get done. Any way, the next chapter promises to have first time sex! YaY! Any how, for those of you who hate this story (though I don\'t know why you\'d be reading this) Good News! There are only about eight or nine chapters left. We are closer to the end then the beginning. As always, everyone who is so inclined, review. I like to know what you\'re thinking. And for the person who reviewed saying my story is kind of Mary Sue, you made a good point. I had no intention of doing that, but it\'s so easy to fall into. I\'m trying to pull out of that area as much as I can wihtout changing the character now. Thank you, at least someone let me know. For the most part, I hate MarySues as well.