Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.

Chapter the Thirty-first: Death of a Death Eater
The same day
20 December

Harry had been in the hospital wing less than an hour when Professor Snape had come in, given him a portkey and told him he was going to Grimmauld Place. Madam Pomfrey had already healed his burned arm and the bruises he had sustained, but had protested that Harry was in shock and needed to stay longer. Snape had told her he was acting on Dumbledore’s orders and there was no arguing. He’d told Harry that Lupin would be waiting for him at Headquarters. Harry had just nodded, taken the portkey, and vanished.

Harry landed in the kitchen and promptly fell over onto the floor. Remus Lupin was there instantly to help him up.

“Harry,” the werewolf asked him worriedly, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Harry mumbled.

Remus looked at his adopted godson with an unreadable expression. “I think you could do with some rest. Why don’t you—”

Harry cut him off. “No. I don’t want to go to sleep.”

Remus nodded slowly. “All right. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Harry replied, sitting at the well-scrubbed kitchen table.

After the tea was ready, Remus joined Harry at the table. “Would you like to talk about it? If you aren’t ready, I—”

“No,” Harry interrupted again, “I think I would like to talk about it. Did…did Dumbledore tell you what happened?”

“Just that you were in a fight with Lucius Malfoy and that Malfoy was dead,” Remus replied, watching Harry closely.

“Yeah. He’d dead. I killed him,” Harry said heavily.

“What happened?”

Harry sighed. “I was walking down to visit Hagrid and there was Malfoy, just walking up to the castle. You’d think he’d be sneaking in at least, seeing how he’s—he was—an escaped convict with a price on his head, but no, he’s just walking across the grounds, arrogant as ever. I wouldn’t have even known it was him if he hadn’t stopped me. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was there for Malfoy—I mean, Draco Malfoy, his son. I told him there was no way he was getting into the castle and, when I refused to let him pass, he challenged me to a duel.”

“You duelled Lucius Malfoy?” Remus asked, his eyebrows rising.

“Yeah. I don’t know how long we were fighting—I don’t think it was very long. He only hit me once. Then he fired the Cruciatus at me and I dodged and he followed up with the Killing Curse before I could send anything back at him. I—I put up the silver shield that Malfoy—Draco—taught me in DADA—”

Remus interrupted him. “I’ve never heard of the silver shield spell. You say Draco Malfoy taught it to you?”

Harry quickly explained about his partnership with Draco and this year’s DADA class. “Anyway, I cast the shield spell just in the nick of time. The curse hit the shield and…and then it did something it had never done before in practise.”

“What did it do?” Remus asked, fascinated despite himself.

Harry knit his brows. “Well, I’ve practised it a lot. Malfoy—Draco—he found it in some old book in the Restricted Section of the library. Professor Marchbanks said it was very obscure. Draco seemed to think it was really important that I master this spell. So, I did. But every time I used it in practise, whatever spell hit the shield would just sort of…disappear into the shield. The shield seemed to absorb it.”

Remus cocked his head. “And I take it this time, it didn’t?”

Harry shook his head. “No. When Lucius’ Killing Curse hit the shield, it…bounced off. It sort of…splattered against the shield then shot right back at Lucius. It hit him in the chest…and killed him.”

“Harry, are you sure it killed him? If the shield did something funny to the spell, it may have just stunned him,” Remus didn’t really think so, but wanted to be sure.

“No, I checked. He was dead,” Harry replied. “I killed him.”

Remus let out a deep breath. “And…how do you feel about that Harry? It’s not easy to take a life, I know. Are you all right with it?”

Harry considered. “I…I thought…ever since I learned about the prophecy and that I had to kill Voldemort or be killed by him…I’ve really worried about it. If I could do it, I mean. Kill someone. I’d convinced myself I could kill Voldemort because…well, he’s evil. And not really human, if you know what I mean.”

Remus nodded, encouraging Harry to continue.

“But someone else, besides Voldemort…I know we’re facing another war and that people get killed in wars. But I didn’t think I could do it. I thought…I thought if I ever did…kill someone, I mean, that I would be horrified. Sick.” Harry stopped and looked down at the table.

“And are you?” Remus asked gently.

Harry looked up at his godfather’s best friend with confused eyes. “That’s just it, Remus. I’m not. I’m not horrified. I’m not sick. I’m…”

Harry trailed off, seemingly unsure how to put into words how he felt.

“You’re what, Harry? Just say it. No matter how you feel, I won’t judge you, you know that.”

“I’m glad,” Harry blurted out. He looked up at Remus, searching his face for his reaction. “I’m glad he’s dead and I’m glad I killed him. Remus, what does that make me? What’s wrong with me?”

Remus put his hand over Harry’s on the table. “It makes you human, Harry. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Harry stood up and pushed away from the table, agitated. “But…there must be! I shouldn’t be glad I killed someone! That has to be sick! I should feel…”

“What, Harry? How should you feel? You’ve never experienced this before, so how do you know what you should feel?”

“Guilty!” Harry exploded. “I should feel terrible! I…I just took a man’s life! It’s permanent! I can’t go back and change it. I’m a murderer and I’m glad! There has to be something wrong with that!”

Remus stood up as well. “You’re not a murderer, Harry. Listen to me. A murderer takes someone’s life intentionally, on purpose, because they want to, for their own gain. You were defending yourself. The man was trying to kill you. That’s not murder, Harry. It’s self-defence. Think of it as war if you have to. You were in a battle. Like you said, people die in battle. It’s not murder and it’s not wrong. It’s life. An unfortunate part of life, but life.”

Harry looked at Remus and Remus couldn’t help but think that a not-yet-seventeen-year-old boy should not look so…adult.

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I guess…I guess I just didn’t expect that I’d ever be glad to have killed someone other than Voldemort.”

“Would it help you to think of it as Malfoy killing himself? After all, you didn’t cast the Killing Curse, he did. You said yourself that you didn’t know it would ricochet back at him the way it did. So in a way, you didn’t really kill Lucius, you just helped him kill himself.” Remus looked at Harry to see his response to the new perspective.

Harry pursed his lips then fiddled with his barbell. “Yeah, actually that occurred to me when I was in the hospital wing. But then I asked myself if I had known that the shield would send the curse back at Lucius and kill him, would I have still used it instead of another shield?”

“And?” Remus prompted.

“And…I would have. If I had known that the silver shield would send the curse back, I would have used it. Definitely. So, even though I didn’t know the shield could kill Lucius, because I still would have used it anyway…well, I figure that boils down to the same thing as me killing Lucius,” Harry concluded. “Does that make sense?”

Remus smiled. “Yes. Yes, it does. In fact, it’s a very reasonable, adult perspective. You’ve…you’ve grown up a lot, Harry. As far as I’m concerned, you are an adult. And I’m proud of you.”

Harry blinked. “Um…thanks. But, you don’t mean…you’re proud of me…for killing Lucius Malfoy, do you?”

“No, not for killing Malfoy per se. I’m proud of the fact that you engaged in a Wizard’s Duel with an adult, fully-trained, rather powerful Dark wizard—and won. And I’m proud of how you are handling the aftermath of the duel. And…I’m just proud of the man you’ve become, Harry. I think I can say with certainty that your parents and Sirius would be proud as well, if they were here.”

Harry blushed a little and shifted his feet. “Ah…thanks, Remus. That…means a lot. Thanks.”

Remus smiled and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. So…you’re all right with everything?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. But I wonder what’s going to happen now. I mean, everyone is going to know I duelled Lucius, right? What are people going to say? Shit! What is Malfoy going to say?”

Remus raised an eyebrow at Harry’s language, but said nothing. “By Malfoy, I take it you mean Draco?”

“Yeah. I mean, I just killed his father. He’s going to hate me now,” Harry said, looking rather distressed.

Remus was puzzled. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t the two of you always…well, not gotten along?”

“Well, yeah. Until this year. Since Marchbanks partnered us in DADA, we agreed to…a truce, I guess. I mean, otherwise, we’d never learn anything. And Draco—I mean, Malfoy—he’s been…different this year. Less…Malfoy, if you know what I mean. Quieter. Less of a git,” Harry smiled wryly. “And I guess I’ve been less of one too. We’ve actually been…getting along, in class, that is. And outside class…well, I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but we’re not hexing each other in the hallways anymore. But now…now that I’ve killed Lucius…”

Remus nodded. “You think he’ll go back to being your enemy?”

“Well, yeah. And can you blame him? I mean, I killed his father!”

“Yes, that’s true,” Remus replied. “I guess you’ll have to cross that bridge when you come to it—but I doubt you’ll be seeing Draco until term starts again, so maybe he will have had some time to cool off. Maybe he won’t be as angry as you think.”

Harry looked at him incredulously. “I don’t think you know Malfoy very well.”

Remus gave him an enigmatic smile. “Better than you might think,” he said as he sat back down at the table and sipped his cooling tea.

Harry frowned. Suddenly, the scene in Dumbledore’s office came rushing back. In his shock and anxiety over killing Lucius, he’d somehow forgotten the memory that had poured into his head while he had stood looking over Lucius’ body.

Narrowing his eyes, Harry looked at Remus. “You mean, because he saw this happening in a dream he won’t be angry with me? Because he’s joined our side you think he won’t mind that I killed his father?”

Remus stared at Harry in shock. “What? How did you…did Dumbledore tell you?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I…er, well, overheard Draco telling Dumbledore.”

“Overheard?” Remus’ brows practically disappeared into his hair.

Harry looked sheepish. “Well, sort of, accidentally-on-purpose overheard.”

The werewolf narrowed his own eyes. “Explain.”

Looking slightly guilty, Harry joined Remus at the table and explained how he had used the Invisibility Cloak to listen in to Draco’s conversation with the headmaster and how Dumbledore had made him forget what he had heard.

Remus was stunned. “So, you didn’t remember any of this until today? After the duel?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Nothing. Not until Lucius was dead. Then I sort of forgot again until just now.”

“Well,” Remus said, still shocked, “Now that you do know, what do you think about it?”

“I’m…surprised. I was surprised when I heard Draco tell Dumbledore he wanted to join our side. I still don’t know why he did. Do you?”

Remus tapped his fingers on the table. “Yes, actually I do.” But when Harry looked at him expectantly, Remus shook his head.

“But it’s not my story to tell. I was one of the Order members Dumbledore asked to witness Draco’s oath of loyalty while he was under Veritaserum. He explained his reasons then. And those of us there swore to Draco that we would tell no one—about his switch or his reasons for doing so. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, that’s likely. I don’t care if he is on our side now. He’ll be pissed that I spied on his conversation with Dumbledore—even if I didn’t remember it until today—and he’ll be pissed that I killed his father. I doubt he’ll even speak to me, except possibly to try and hex me.”

Remus wondered why Harry looked a little sad at that statement, but didn’t ask him about it.

“I don’t know, Harry. We’ll just have to wait and see. Like I said, you won’t be seeing Draco until term starts, so perhaps things won’t be so bad. Now, Dumbledore said he’d be coming here to talk with you later tonight. Why don’t we make dinner and eat before he arrives?”

Harry nodded. “All right.”

Remus stood to move over to the stove. Harry rose as well.

“Remus?” Harry got the older man’s attention. “I…well, thanks. Thanks for listening. It helped.”

Remus smiled. “Anytime.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Professor Snape entered the Slytherin common room to find Draco and Blaise playing a game of Wizarding Chess in front of a roaring fire. He nodded to them both.

“Draco, if I might have a word with you…in private?” he asked.

Draco lifted a brow. “Certainly. My dormitory is empty.”

Snape nodded and followed Draco to the room he shared with Blaise. After they were seated, Snape looked at Draco seriously.

“Draco, I’m afraid I have what might be difficult news for you. Your father…has just been killed.”

Draco’s heart froze in his chest. Could it be…?

“Harry?” he asked in a whisper.

Snape raised a brow at the use of Harry’s given name, but let it pass.

“Yes,” the Potions master said. “It was Potter. From what Potter said, it was just as you dreamed it would happen.” He didn’t mention that Potter seemed to know of Draco’s dream as well.

“My dream. My vision,” Draco said, in a rather dazed voice. He pulled himself together. “Did he use the silver shield spell? Did it work?”

Snape cocked his head, intrigued by Draco’s reaction to the news of his father’s death. Or rather, non-reaction. Was he in shock?

“That is what Potter said. He said…your spell saved him.”

A slow, self-satisfied smile spread across Draco’s face. It wasn’t a smile of happiness; it was a smile of grim triumph.

“Good. I’m glad it worked,” he said, the dark pleasure evident in his tone.

Snape studied Draco consideringly before speaking again. “Draco, I’ve just informed you that your father is dead. Is your only reaction to be concerned about what Potter did?”

Draco met Snape’s obsidian gaze evenly. “Professor Snape, you must understand. To me…my father died months ago. Maybe even more than a year ago, when the Dark Lord returned. I’ve accepted it. I’ve mourned the man I knew as my father and I’ve moved on. What you’ve just told me is that Lucius is dead. An insane follower of the Dark Lord. His death means nothing to me. Nothing beyond knowing the fact that what I dreamed was actually a vision that has now come to pass.”

Snape held Draco’s gaze for a moment before he nodded. “I see. Very well. Then I’ll caution you to remember your position. When the news of Lucius’ death is made public, you must act…appropriately. You must—publicly, at least—mourn your father’s death. Otherwise, suspicions will be raised. In private—well, what you do in private is your own business.”

Draco smirked. “Then I shall raise a glass in toast to my own small part in Lucius’ death. Good riddance to bad rubbish and all that.”

Snape couldn’t help but smirk back. “Just keep that toast private until the news breaks. I imagine it will be sometime tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Draco asked. “What, you think news of Lucius’ death isn’t worthy of a mention in the evening edition of the Daily Prophet?”

“I’m quite sure it would be, if the Prophet was to find out today. The headmaster does not want it known that Lucius died here, on Hogwarts property and he certainly doesn’t want it known that his Golden Boy was involved. There are plans to have Lucius’ body moved to another location to be ‘discovered.’ That way, his death shall remain a mystery to all but a select few. You’ll have to pretend you are unaware until the Prophet breaks the news—I, of course, will have rushed to tell you as soon as the Ministry informed the headmaster of your…loss,” Snape finished with slight smirk.

Draco smirked back at him. “Yes, of course. Well, I guess I’ll keep my private celebration to just Blaise and myself tonight before I don the mask of the mourning son tomorrow. Care to join us in lifting a glass this evening, Professor?”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, but no. Just make sure Zabini is aware of the need for secrecy.”

“Of course,” Draco replied.

As Snape rose to leave, a thought suddenly occurred to Draco.

“Sir, what about my mother?” he asked, seeming concerned for the first time since Snape had entered the room.

Snape looked at Draco. “She, of course, will be notified by the Ministry. How do you think Narcissa will react?”

Draco considered. “I’m sure she’ll grieve for him, a least a little. But I think overall she will be relieved. There was no love between them anymore. I believe…I know she loved him, once. But I don’t think she has loved him for many years, perhaps since I was a child. He has not been…kind to her since the Dark Lord’s return. He wanted her to join him as a Death Eater, but she refused. She told me once that she felt that one of them should be…free…should something happen, else I would be left without a parent. I don’t think he took it very well.”

“No, he didn’t,” Snape replied. “He didn’t like her…lack of faith in the Dark Lord.”

Draco nodded. “I can imagine. But…my mother will need to play her role as well. What about the funeral? Will I…will it be safe for me to attend?”

Snape looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I’ll speak with Narcissa and Dumbledore. I believe we can arrange it as a small, private affair with Ministry officials in attendance. I’m sure Fudge can be convinced that sending Aurors to the funeral would be a good chance to catch any Death Eaters that may wish to attend to pay their last respects…especially to you.”

“All right,” Draco said. “I assume that I am to stay here, at Hogwarts, until further notice?”

“Yes,” Snape nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”

He turned to leave again, then paused. “Draco, you should know that Potter has been…moved. He is no longer here at Hogwarts. I assume the headmaster was concerned for his safety, should it somehow come out that he was involved in Lucius’ death. Either that, or he was afraid Potter would breakdown and cause suspicions.”

Draco schooled his face to show nothing, but deep inside, he was concerned…and disappointed.

“Breakdown? Why would Potter breakdown?” he asked.

“I only saw him briefly, when we discovered him standing over Lucius’ body, but the boy appeared to be in shock. I suspect his tender Gryffindor sensibilities will not cope well with having killed a man,” Snape replied, with a slight sneer on his face.

Draco felt a little guilty, as if he had used Harry in some way to get what he wanted. “But, sir, it wasn’t really Harry who killed Lucius—it was the spell. Wasn’t it?”

Snape lifted a brow. “If it played out exactly as your vision, I suppose one could look at it that way. As I said, I only saw Potter a moment before McGonagall whisked him away. Why are you so concerned about Potter?”

“I’m not, really,” Draco quickly replied. “I was just a bit confused, that’s all.”

Snape gave him an inscrutable look before inclining his head in farewell and sweeping from the room, closing the door behind him.

Draco sat back with a sigh. Just his luck that the one perfect opportunity he had to spend time with Harry—to tell him of his true allegiance—would be snatched away from him. Why couldn’t his life ever be fair? Well, at least it was done. He was free. Free of Lucius. And free to follow his dreams…

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
A/N: Argh! Damn Dumbledore for sending Harry to Grimmauld Place! Just think of how much fun Draco and Harry could have had in the castle over the winter hols…hmmm, perhaps I should do a re-write…nah! But there will be smut soon, I promise! Reviews make my day!!!!! Thanks!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^