Funerals and Weddings

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

Chapter the Forty-first: Confiding in Hermione
Night of 6 January

“Harry! How are you, mate?” Seamus gave Harry the one-armed hug so typical of men. “Good holiday?”

Tearing his eyes away from the Slytherin side of the Great Hall where they’d been focused on a particular blond, Harry grinned back at the irrepressible Irishman. “Yeah, it was quite good. Yours?”

“It was all right. Nothing exciting, but that’s a good thing these days, yeah? Besides, it was lovely to lie in as loooong as I wanted every single bleedin’ day!” Seamus gave a mock yawn and stretch.

“Hey Harry!” Neville was next to make his way over to the Gryffindor table where Harry had seated himself to wait for the carriages to disembark. “Good Christmas?”

The typical greetings and how-was-your-holiday conversation that Harry would have normally had on the Hogwarts Express continued part way into dinner. It seemed Ron and Hermione had explained where Harry was, so at least people didn’t keep asking him why he hadn’t been on the train. Still, the conversation was so repetitive that Harry didn’t have any trouble at all sneaking looks at Draco while eating and making appropriate responses to the flow of words around him.

Having finally caught up with everyone, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. “So, did I miss anything?”

“No, not unless you count Sirius’ mum going spare when we were trying to get all the trunks down the stairs this morning,” Ron said sarcastically.

“Gee, sorry I missed that,” Harry returned, matching Ron’s tone. “I’ll, uh, fill you in on my meeting with Dumbledore after dinner, all right?”

Hermione nodded as Ron reached across Harry for the custard that had just appeared on the table. “Ah! My favourite!”

Harry looked at all the desserts, then glanced over to the Slytherin table to see if Draco had gone for the chocolate gateau—yes, he had. Harry smiled. Having some chocolate did sound rather good (although the thought of licking it off of Draco’s body sounded even better!) and he helped himself to a piece as well.

After the meal and a brief welcome back speech by Dumbledore, Harry waited until Ron was distracted by Dean and Seamus to snag Hermione’s sleeve.

“Hermione,” he whispered. “Do you have prefect duties tonight? I want to talk to you about something—privately.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I have rounds to make at ten. Want to walk with me?”

Harry climbed the steps to the Gryffindor Tower just behind Hermione. “Sounds good. Thanks.” Looking over the banister, he glanced down into the entry hall and easily spied Draco’s blond head. His boyfriend was conversing with Blaise and Pansy as they headed in the direction of the dungeons. Harry wished he was walking with Draco but had to settle for the thought of meeting Draco at midnight outside the Slytherin dormitory.

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“So, Harry, what did you want to talk about?” Hermione asked as she and Harry walked along the first corridor of her prefect route.

Harry inhaled deeply. He had thought long and hard about the best way to broach the subject of Draco with Hermione. He had decided to try a logical approach and fall back on Gryffindor loyalty if he had to.

“Hermione,” he started, “do you think that people can change? I mean, really change?”

“Of course,” Hermione answered, “people change all the time.”

“I mean, completely change. Do a 180-degree turn from what they were. Re-invent themselves, you might say. Do you think that’s possible?”

“Yes, I think it’s possible. Difficult, but possible. I would think that a person would have to experience some huge, life-altering event to truly ‘start over’ as someone completely different from the person they used to be,” she said thoughtfully. “And it would probably be easier to do if they started over in a new place where there was no one around who knew their “old” self. Why do you ask?”

“I’ll get to that in a minute,” Harry said. “Suppose you found out one day that something you had always thought to be true about someone was completely false. Like…if you found out that…I dunno, McGonagall almost became a Death Eater because most of her family supported Voldemort but at the last minute she changed her mind. How would you feel about that? How do you think other people would feel about it?”

Hermione gave Harry a completely baffled look. “I’m assuming this is completely hypothetical?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I just made that up as an example,” Harry said quickly.

“Well, I’d guess I’d be surprised. But I would still trust her. I mean, she was an original member of the Order, so her decision not to join the Death Eaters would have been a long time ago and she’s definitely proved herself since then. But…if you’re talking about back when she first turned down the Death Eaters and joined the Order…I can imagine that a lot of people might not trust her at first. People might think she was a spy,” Hermione replied, frowning a little. “Is that what you meant?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. So s’pose you found out someone like…Malfoy or…Parkinson had joined our side. Someone that most people thought would become a Death Eater. How would you feel about that? Would you trust them? Would you give them a chance?”

Leading the way down to the next floor, Hermione pursed her lips. “Well, I’m not sure. I guess it would depend on the situation. Like, how sure I was that they had really joined our side and weren’t playing double agent. How they behaved. What their reasons were. Harry, why are you asking me these hypothetical questions? What are you trying to get at?” she asked, a bit impatiently.

Glancing around to make sure they were alone and that they weren’t near a portrait, Harry stopped Hermione in the middle of the corridor by placing his hand on her arm. “Someone we know has switched sides, but you have to keep it a secret. Not even Ron can know right now. NO ONE can know that you know—it would be extremely dangerous for this person. I need your word that you’ll keep this to yourself, Hermione.”

“Of course, Harry. I won’t tell anyone, although I don’t understand why I can’t tell Ron,” Hermione said.

“You’ll understand why in a minute,” Harry said wryly.

“Fine, fine. Who is it?” Hermione was about to die from curiosity.

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” Harry whispered. “He’s on our side now.”

“What?” Hermione shrieked. “I don’t believe it!”

“Shhh!” Harry said. “Keep your voice down.” Beckoning her forward, he started walking again, but stopped when he noticed she was still standing where he had left her, staring at him.

“Harry, you have got to be kidding! Who told you this?”

“Well, Dumbledore, Remus and D—Malfoy himself,” Harry replied, walking back to her. “Malfoy went to Dumbledore at the beginning of last term and swore an oath of loyalty to the side of Light under Veritaserum. But it’s being kept a secret for now.”

Hermione was looking at Harry with a completely stunned expression on her face. “Wow. I mean…Malfoy. Who would have thought? He’s the last person I would have guessed. But wait—why did he switch? I mean, his father was a Death Eater and he’s always going on about the superiority of purebloods and such. Why the about face?”

“To be honest, I don’t know the whole story yet. Dra—er, Malfoy, oh screw it! Draco said he’d tell me later. I got the impression from both him and Remus that the story wasn’t very pleasant,” Harry answered. “But I do know that he can’t stand Lucius.”

“Well, I guess that might have something to do with why he switched. But Harry, why are you calling him ‘Draco’ now?” Hermione asked.

Harry lifted a shoulder. “Well, I guess you could say there are three reasons. One, because he asked me to. I basically spent most of yesterday and today talking with him. Two, because as a result of talking to him, I now associate ‘Malfoy’ with who he used to be: a complete arsehole. I know you’ll have a hard time believing this, but he’s really not a horrible person. Like I said, I don’t know the whole story yet, but from what he’s said, all of that ‘Junior Death Eater’ and ‘arrogant git’ behaviour was an act he had to put on and not anything he believes any more.”

Hermione nodded, but still looked sceptical. “If you say so. What’s the third reason?”

Once again, Harry looked around to make sure no one—living, dead, or painted—could overhear them. Looking Hermione right in the eye, he said, “The third reason I’m calling him Draco is because…he’s my boyfriend.”

There was a long, nerve-stretching silence following Harry’s declaration during which several expressions moved rapidly across Hermione’s face. Harry kept his face impassive as he waited for Hermione to find her voice.

”What?” she finally gasped. “Did you just say you’re dating…Malfoy?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, his voice betraying none of the dread he was feeling.

“Please tell me you’re not serious—that this is some kind of stupid joke—”

She broke off as Harry shook his head, the seriousness of his expression indicating that he was clearly not kidding.

Inhaling sharply through her nose, Hermione switched tacks. “Harry Potter, what the hell are you thinking?” she practically shouted. “Are you insane?”

Harry winced. This was exactly the reaction he’d been hoping she wouldn’t have. The fact that she’d sworn—said even as mild an epithet as ‘hell’—was a good clue as to how upset she really was.

“Look, Hermione, just hear me out. I know Draco’s been an arse in the past, but—”

“An arse? He’s been a complete bastard and you know it! He calls me horrible names, insults Ron’s family and the things he’s done to you! Have you forgotten? The fighting, the insults, the hexing, the dirty tricks…he was a member of that evil toad’s Inquisitorial Squad! How could you possibly be seeing him? How could you touch him?”

Harry closed his eyes as Hermione recited Draco’s numerous offences. He knew she was right—Draco had done some pretty terrible things over the past five years. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t really know why he was so willing to let bygones be bygones with Draco; perhaps it was a result of partnering with him in DADA class and having slowly improved his relationship with him over the course of last term. Perhaps it was the fact that Draco’s Silver Shield Spell had saved his life—and that Draco had taught him the spell knowing exactly how he would use it. Perhaps it was the dreams he’d had. Or maybe it was just the fact that he thought the Slytherin was fucking hot.

Harry tried his best to point out some of these very reasons to Hermione, but she was not having any of it. She kept tossing Draco’s previous sins in Harry’s face: his attempt to get Buckbeak killed, his machinations to get Hagrid sacked, the time he and his friends showed up during the Quidditch match dressed as dementors, his tendency to capitalise on Snape’s blatant favouritism, the threats he’d made after Lucius had been sent to prison.

“But Hermione,” Harry said desperately, “you said yourself you thought people could change. Why can’t you at least give Draco a chance to prove he’s changed?”

Hermione regarded Harry with her best ‘you-are-a-complete-idiot’ expression. “Because it would be a waste of my time. There is nothing on earth that could make Malfoy change as drastically as you say. I’m amazed that you seem so sure that he’s changed!”

A light suddenly dawned in her eyes. “Oh! Of course! He’s cast some kind of spell on you or…or…dosed you with an illegal potion!”

“No, Hermione, I swear, that’s not what’s happened,” Harry said. “Look, you can ask Dumbledore, he knows—”

She interrupted him. “That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said here tonight, Harry. First thing in the morning, you, me and Ron are going to see Dumbledore and—”

“Ron!” Harry cut in. “You can’t tell Ron, Hermione! You promised you wouldn’t.”

“Well, that was before I knew you’d either been bewitched or that you’d lost your mind,” she replied tartly. “Which if you aren’t under the influence of some kind of magic, you certainly have! Ron needs to know so he can help me get you out of this mess, Harry.”

She moved to Harry’s side and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Harry,” she said condescendingly. “Everything is going to be just fine. Once we’ve gotten you free of the spell or potion Malfoy’s used on you, everything will be back to normal and the three of us can have a good laugh over it.”

That did it: Harry snapped and he shoved her hand off his shoulder. “I don’t think so, Hermione. For once, you are completely wrong. I’m sorry but…”

As he spoke, Harry drew his wand and cast before Hermione had time to react: “Obliviate!”

Harry pocketed his wand as Hermione’s eyes went blank and her face slackened momentarily. She blinked several times.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I drifted off there for a moment. What were you saying?”

Ignoring the pang in his heart for the moment, Harry hid his sigh of relief. “Oh, nothing. Listen, I need to get back to the common room to, uh, talk to Ron about the Quidditch practise schedule. I’ll see you later.”

He started to turn, but stopped when Hermione asked, “Wait, Harry, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, right. Nothing much. Just wondering if you would mind, er, helping with some research. You know, about me having the same dream as Malfoy, like I told you and Ron about after dinner.”

Hermione smiled. “Sure, Harry. That’s a good idea. Well, I need to hurry and finish my rounds. See you later.” With a wave, she walked the short distance to the end of the corridor, then disappeared around the corner.

Harry waited a minute, his thoughts racing. Then he walked in the opposite direction, back towards the dormitory. After rounding the corner at the far end of the corridor, he stopped and pressed his back to the wall, listening. After a few seconds, he heard the same noise he’d thought he’d heard just as he’d Obliviated Hermione: a soft rustle of fabric.

Harry quietly dug out his Invisibility Cloak and enfolded himself in it. With a muttered “Silencio” to cover his footsteps, and wand at the ready, he slipped back around the corner into the corridor he and Hermione had just vacated. Moving silently, he walked slowly forward, eyes peeled and ears perked for whatever had made the noise he’d heard before.

He saw and heard nothing until he had almost reached the corner Hermione had turned to finish walking her rounds. Then he heard it again—the peculiar sliding sound heavy fabric makes when it brushes against something. It was much louder this time, and accompanied by the sound of shuffling footsteps.

Carefully poking his head around the corner (he didn’t want to bang into whoever was there), Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw a figure step out from behind a heavy tapestry depicting a Common Welsh Green dragon swooping down upon a field of unsuspecting sheep (Ah, yes, Harry remembered almost instantly—there was rounded niche behind the tapestry—he’d seen it on the Marauder’s Map before.). He had only a second to decide what to do. A hundred possibilities flashed through his brain, but he decided to follow his gut. He shrugged off his Invisibility Cloak, then stepped around the corner, simultaneously casting his spell: “Accio wand!”

Harry’s target whipped around to face him as he caught the flying wand in his free hand.

“Harry!” The figure stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, as if trying to decide whether or not to run.

“Don’t make me Petrificus you,” Harry said softly. “Just tell me how much you heard.”

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A/N: I crown myself queen of the evil cliffhangers! Ha! Reviews (and rants about cliffhangers) are welcome.

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