Gilded Soul

Chapter 25 Prophetic Danger

Author’s note: Thanks again to everyone who commented on the story so far. I hope you find this next chapter equally entertaining!

Previously on Gilded Soul:

It was late before Draco made his way into the room he shared with Harry. He wasn’t sure how they got away with it, but he supposed it helped when both their heads of house seemed to turn a blind eye. As he stepped through the threshold he heard Harry mutter ‘mischief managed’ and saw him tuck away a yellowed parchment, another secret he assumed.

He walked over and sat in the armchair across from Harry. “What was that?”

Harry looked up and forced a grin. “Just something the Weasley twins gave me back in third year.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. Then maybe you can tell me what the Gilded Soul is.”

Chapter 25 Prophetic Danger

Harry’s mouth fell open. “How did you…”

Draco sneered. “You think you’re the only person privy to important information?”

“No, but… you aren’t supposed to… I mean…” He was babbling and couldn’t stop. How had Draco found out? Would Dumbledore assume that Harry had told him? Maybe the old man had changed his mind and called Draco in after he left. Though that was doubtful given his last meeting with the headmaster.

He was having an excruciatingly bad day. It started at breakfast when Hermione told him about Draco getting detention with McGonagall and why. He hadn’t even known and had been in a lesson with Dumbledore that night. Draco hadn’t mentioned it, which now made him feel like a bigger idiot that he had to find out from Hermione.

Finnigan had always been a loudmouth, but he expected a little more couth from someone he spent the last five plus years sharing a room with. He had mixed feelings about what Draco had done. Part of him was embarrassed that the Slytherin came to his rescue, the other part felt loved and protected. He mostly just hoped it was a good hex since he managed to get a detention for it.

He also wondered why Draco hadn’t told him. Was he embarrassed too? He knew the Slytherin was taking a lot of slack for their relationship, and he wondered if he was getting sick of it, sick of Harry.

The day progressed poorly as Snape belittled him all through class. He tried to think of what Dumbledore had told him previously, about Snape and his mum, and practiced biting his tongue. He had managed to hold back his scathing backtalk for most of the class, but then right before class got out the potions master mentioned something about Harry being rude and arrogant just like his father, and he snapped.

He actually called his professor a snively little coward. He was promptly given a detention told to leave immediately. He missed the end of class, thus missing their assignment, so he was sure to get an additional detention when he didn’t have anything to turn in. He had hoped Hermione or Draco would help, but it had been pressed upon them that no one was to tell him, on pain of death… or at least dismemberment.

At lunch he overhead all of his classmates whispering about him and it began to infuriate him to the point of walking out. He ate his lunch in the prefect’s bathroom, where he continued to be harassed by moaning Myrtle, who had also heard rumor of his scandalous relationship with Malfoy.

He was once again the laughing stock of the school, and despite telling Draco otherwise, he hated it. His destiny was to save the very same people who mocked him. It didn’t seem right and it didn’t seem fair. Every night since students returned and began making fun of him and spreading rumors, he had dreamed of giving them over to Voldemort. He dreamed that the Ministry contacted him, and it was time to go to war and he just said ‘no’. Once he dreamed that he made it into a big public speech as to why he was going to go into hiding and let Voldemort have them all. Then once he even dreamed of joining Voldemort and wreaking his own brand of vengeance upon the school.

He knew it was wrong, and deep down he knew that he would never do such a thing, but the allure of it kept him relatively sane during class when he spied people whispering about him, or in the corridors when he accidentally bumped into someone and they looked up mortified that they had ‘touched Harry Potter’.

Then there was Draco, his sweet beautiful Draco. He had wanted to talk about the maze no less then three times that day, and every time he had to play dumb and act as if he didn’t know any more than Draco did. He hated lying to his Slytherin. It was eating away at him, slowly but surely, which is what led to the confrontation with Dumbledore.

He was practicing a heating charm when he saw the Slytherin Quidditch team practicing out on the pitch. He began thinking about Draco, and how he wanted to tell him the truth about the prophecy and everything else and finally got up the nerve to ask the Headmaster’s permission.

He hadn’t anticipated the elderly man to get so furious, but the response was harsh and immediate. He lashed out at Harry with his power, and that was unsettling by itself, but the fearful manner the headmaster spoke to him was even more so.

He had spent so long respecting the man and believing everything he said as truth. Even when year after year more information surfaced about himself that Dumbledore could have told him in the beginning. But he was the one who couldn’t be trusted? He was the one who couldn’t make decisions on his own? He was the one who was forced to be a pawn in the older mans schemes?

Harry had decided right then that he had enough of it. Enough being lied to and told half-truths, enough games, enough dangerous pointless missions. In a few months he would be an adult, and it was damn well time people started treating him as such.

His power pushed from inside him like an oven and all he could remember was flexing his fingertips and envisioning it leaving his body and it did. It flared across the room, singing the edges of scrolls on the headmaster’s desk and causing Fawkes to squawk. He felt it ruffle the fabric in the room and even felt the headmaster flinch and stumble. He pulled it wanted to pull it back, but it felt good to be in control, to have even the greatest wizard in the world twitch from his power, raw and unrefined.

It wasn’t until he was hit with a flare of magic from Dumbledore that he realized what he had done, and the old man’s words cut through to the heart of him. He didn’t want to be another Voldemort. He didn’t want people to worship him or fear him. He just wanted to have Draco, and his few friends and to be left alone.

So in the end he left the office without a word, for fear of what he would say. If he wanted to live in denial, he could tell himself it was the Dark Lord controlling his mind, but Harry knew better. He knew it was all him, all his very own brand of darkness bubbling up to the surface.

Just like Dumbledore said.

--

Draco remembered the times when a stammering Harry Potter would have brought him great joy. Those times were past however, and this one only made him sad and slightly angry. He had decided on his long walk around the castle, that Harry didn’t deserve most of the blame. It was obvious that the Gryffindor wanted to tell him the truth, but he was being coerced into keeping it a secret from Draco. He realized he was mostly upset because he felt betrayed, as if the bond with the Headmaster was greater than the bond they had together. Though even that could be held in suspicion based on what he had seen earlier that night.

He held up his hand to stop the Gryffindor’s distress. “I overheard you and Professor Dumbledore,” he said simply.

Harry seemed to both sag with relief and go rigid with a new tension simultaneously. “What did you over hear?”

“Enough.”

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m going to get blamed for this I’m sure… wait… how did you over hear? Dumbledore has an imperturbable charm on the door.”

Draco smiled slyly. “I was hovering outside the window.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Seriously Draco, you could have been found out, or you could have frozen to death for that matter. It was utterly freezing out.”

Draco cocked an eyebrow, carefully watching Harry’s face as he said the next. “Your magic warmed me up a bit.”

Harry paled and looked sheepish at best. “You felt that huh?” Draco nodded. “It was a mistake… sort of.”

“Well, if that was a mistake, remind me to stay away when you’re trying to do something.”

Harry sighed heavily, and began pacing the room. “You’re afraid of me aren’t you? Just like Dumbledore.”

He sat still a moment. Truthfully he was somewhat afraid of the Gryffindor, but not the way Dumbledore was. The headmaster was afraid of Harry using that power for evil. Draco knew that Harry would never do that. He was worried about Harry’s power consuming him, and making him forget about Draco.

He explained as much and was rewarded with a kiss. “As long as you want me, I’m yours Draco Malfoy.”

Draco grinned; he couldn’t help it, all the previous animosity toward the boy in front of him forgotten. He kissed his Gryffindor and let him wipe away all the bad from those last few weeks. He melted against him and lost his reasoning for a moment.

With gasping breaths they parted and the cause for this conversation came rushing back to him. “Harry, what have you been keeping from me?”

Harry looked defeated. “How much time do you have?”

--

Harry spent the night breaking his promise to Dumbledore. He told Draco everything, from his heritage to the finer details of his magic and ended with the prophecy that involved them both. Draco listed with rapt attention as Harry recited the prophecy from memory.

“So that’s why you’ve been calling me your pale dragon?” Harry nodded. “Here I thought you were being clever.”

He smiled. “I thought it was very fitting.”

“So what did Dumbledore say about the end bit, about you falling?”

Harry shrugged. “He said it was probably vague on purpose and could mean anything from me choosing to die so that you could live or something else altogether.”

Draco blanched and looked at his Gryffindor incredulously. “You would never do that, right?” It was more of a demand than a question.

Harry gave him a small crooked smile. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I have a bit of a hero complex.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that, under no circumstances are you to ever, and I mean ever, give your life in exchange for mine.” Draco just sighed at the smile on his Gryffindor’s face spread wider. “I’ve grown a little attached to you,” he mumbled, pulling Harry into his lap, “and things without you wouldn’t be quite the same.”

Harry practically beamed at Draco’s words and rewarded him with another kiss. This kiss was less urgent than usual, just a soft almost chaste press of the lips that slowly grew into something more, making his insides turn into melted goo.

--

They fell into an easy routine through the winter, spending as much time together as they could, which only equated to a couple waking hours of the day aside from classes. Gossip had died away hesitantly as the two were now constant companions and it became less and less ‘news worthy’ as time progressed. In fact, it started a bit of a fad with boys and girls alike announcing they were gay. In most cases it usually only lasted a few weeks at best and then it would go back to normal.

Harry and Draco were quite amused by that particular reaction, however they continued to stay clear of the entire student body with few exceptions. They both still spoke to Hermione on a daily basis. She helped them with research and new ideas, and Harry was also still cordial with Neville, who was the only Gryffindor not to prosecute him back in January.

Draco however, was feeling more isolated than ever before. His only companion was Harry, and he was obviously trying to spend time with the Slytherin, he seemed to be getting more and more distant as his lessons with the Headmaster progressed. He never even got letters, scathing or otherwise, from his mother any longer. He didn’t know what exactly to think of it, and only hoped that she was still safe, and all that kept her from writing was her anger.

Either way, Draco found himself quite lonely. It was this fact that had him now slinking down to the dungeons in search of Professor Snape. Harry was in his nightly lesson with Dumbledore, and Draco was more caught up with his assignments than ever before. He needed someone to talk to, but needed that person to be more loyal to him than to Harry, so Hermione was out. He knew that even though he now found and easy camaraderie with the Gryffindor girl, she would never keep secrets from Harry, and would most likely blab everything he said to her the very first chance she got.

They seemed to be no closer to the third task than they were back at Christmas, and it was now mid- February. It was almost as if the maze were rearranging itself to keep them away from it.

Thinking about the maze only made him think about the prophecy, and that merely depressed him. He was acutely aware of how hypocritical he had been to dismiss Harry’s worries over his own prophecy. It wasn’t a nice feeling to know that fate had a mapped out plan for a section of your life, and that no matter what, a certain series of events would fall into place to make the prophecy accurate. He often wondered if he had already begun following the path and putting those events into place.

He supposed that the traitorous union it spoke of was already made. He thought back to the tarot card reading Harry had done for him ages ago, the outcome was very clear in his head and it made the prophecy seem worse. The reading clearly said he and Harry wouldn’t work out together. Would he do something to betray the Gryffindor, maybe even something inadvertent? Was it like Dumbledore’s speculation that Harry would die in the end to spare Draco? He knew he would never be able accept that after everything they have been through.

He found Snape’s private office, which was typically impossible to find by anyone by a Slytherin student, and knocked softly on the door. Part of him dreaded being here; no longer feel a kinship to his Head of House since he started the relationship with Harry. The Gryffindor loathed the Potions Master, and made no attempt to hide that fact.

A booming voice echoed from inside telling him to ‘come in’ and as such the door unlatched of its own accord. Draco peered inside, having never been in the Potion Masters quarters before. It was surprisingly different from what he had expected. He assumed it would mimic the Slytherin common room, but this was vastly different.

Snape was seated at a large cherry wood desk, which was rich and ornate and based on the shield crests carved into the sides it was obviously a family heirloom. The walls all held detailed tapestries of family and his ancestral home, all in vivid colors not suiting the sallow professor, so that most of the stone wall was covered from sight. The far corner held a vast fireplace, which made the normally dank underground space quite cozy. Flanking both sides of the fireplace were several large over stuffed bookcases, each carrying massive ancient tomes. A deep purple velvet settee and pair of armchairs sat in front of the fireplace. Behind the Professor’s desk was a set of doors, which Draco assumed led into his bedchamber.

The Potions Master didn’t look up as Draco absorbed his surroundings, feeling immediately more comfortable than he had on his way down here. When Snape finally did look up he quickly wiped the shock at seeing Draco there. “What brings you here tonight, Draco?”

“I needed to speak to someone about some things that have been troubling me.” Draco replied simply.

Severus raised a pointed black eyebrow and let out a resigned sigh. “I had wondered when you would come to me about this.” He gestured to the sofa and Draco walked over and took a seat, flowed by Snape, who sat in the adjacent armchair. “Very well, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Draco felt momentarily confused, but asked what he came down here to. “ Professor, how much do you know about prophesies?”

“Prophesies?” Draco nodded. “Surely I’m no expert, but I have studied my fair share… why do you ask?” He looked Draco over curiously, and smiled slightly as the boy squirmed under his gaze.

Draco took a folded and worn scrap of paper from his robe pocket and handed it to the professor. He had been carrying it around with him, opening it and rereading the prophecy, written in neat handwriting, over and over again over the past few weeks.

Snape didn’t remove his gaze as he unfolded the sheaf of paper until he exposed the scrolling writing there. He read it once through quickly and then again more slowly and then returned his gaze to the Slytherin. “You think this is about you?” Draco nodded. “Why do you think that?”

“Dumbledore told me… inadvertently.” Draco didn’t know how much he could tell the professor and hoped he would be able to get his opinion without over sharing.

“I see.” Snape tapped his wand gently against his temple. “If you have Dumbledore working on this, why do you need my assistance?”

Draco shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Would Snape tell Dumbledore? “Dumbledore doesn’t know that I know about it. Harry told me.”

Snape made a sound that was half a laugh and half a grunt. “The old coot is still keeping things close to his chest, I see.” He reread the scrap of paper. “I’ve heard this one before. I suppose that you have deduced Harry to be the lion? It only seems to be the most obvious choice.” Draco nodded. “And do you know that the Gilded Soul is?” At this question he watched the blonde very closely.

Draco attempted no to falter in his next words. “It’s the reward in the center of the maze.”

Snape lifted a greasy eyebrow at that. “Indeed. How do you know about the maze? Did Harry tell you about it as well?” He was scowling slightly. He didn’t know what business the maze was to mere children.

“Not exactly.”

“It’s good to see that all of Potters tendencies didn’t rub off on you. At least you’re still capable of keeping some secrets.”

Draco laughed. “I think Harry keeps more secrets than I ever have in my life. He’s privy to much more important information than I am,” he sulked.

“You sound bitter. Do you want to find yourself in some escapade where death is your only ticket out?”

“Merlin, no,” Draco shouted defensively. “In fact, quite the opposite. I want to make certain this prophecy doesn’t come true. In any way I can.”

Snape looked at Draco appraisingly. “My suggestion then, is to leave Potter alone. It is quite obvious to me, that it plainly calls for his death at your fault… if not your hands.”

Draco gasped, “I would never hurt Harry.”

“No? Do you really feel so confident?” Draco nodded stubbornly. “I am going to tell you something, Draco, and I am going to insist that it NEVER leave this room.” Draco looked confused but nodded.

“I was once irrefutably in love with Potter’s mother, Lily. Her family promised her to me the as soon as they found out she was a witch, and I was smitten.” Draco tried to act surprised, even though he had heard this bit of information from Harry. “She was smart and beautiful, funny and kind, but she chose James in the end, breaking off our betrothal. She wanted to remain friends with me, but I was furious. The summer after school ended, the Potters were married, and that day I joined the Dark Lord. He prayed upon my grief and I became his loyal subject. I overheard a prophecy, told directly to Dumbledore by that old bat Trelawney.” He paused then, as if remembering everything, and shuddered. “It was the prophecy about Harry, I suspect he’s told you of it by now?” Draco nodded.

“Well, at the time of course, I had no idea it involved Harry, who wasn’t even yet born, let alone my Lily.” Draco’s eyes went wide as he guessed where the story was leading. “I dutifully reported it back to the Dark Lord, who took it very seriously.” It wasn’t very long before Lily gave birth to Harry and Voldemort decided that it was he who would fulfill the prophecy.”

Snape sighed and looked wistfully at a row of portraits over his mantle. Draco looked over to see that one of them held a young Severus and Lily, hand in hand by the lake at Hogwarts. They must have been about his age. Lily’s green eyes sparkled and winked at him, reminding him achingly of Harry.

“I tried to warn Lily, but I couldn’t find her, they had put the Fidelus charm on their home, and I didn’t know who the secret keeper was, though I assumed it was Black and that information was equally unusable. I knew he would never believe me, so I went to Dumbledore. I pledged myself to his service if he would only tell Lily about the impending attack.”

Draco found he was still staring at the portrait of Harry’s mother and when he looked back he found a distraught looking Snape with his head in his hands, looking near tears. “He was too late of course. By the time Albus arrived, the Dark Mark hovered over the house and James and Lily were dead. I’m sure you know what happened from there.” Draco nodded silently.

“You see, even though I didn’t mean to, I hurt the person I loved most in the world. Are you still so certain that you couldn’t do the same to Harry?”

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