Funerals and Weddings

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

Chapter the Forty-ninth: Burning Torches
Night of 12 January
Draco’s room


Draco was completely knackered. It was only 9 pm, but the only thing he planned on doing was going to bed—and sleeping. As he walked back into his room from the bath after showering, Blaise entered the room as well.

“Draco,” Blaise greeted him, “I didn’t know you were back. Enjoy your date with Potter?” Blaise smirked as he leered a little.

Draco lifted a brow and moved to grab his black silk pajama bottoms from his dresser. “I’ve been gone all day—what do you think?”

Blaise’s gaze took in the faint bruises on Draco’s hips and the distinct love bites on Draco’s neck and chest. “I think you’re cursed with such incredibly pale skin that anyone looking can see every mark Potter put on you.”

Then he snickered as Draco’s face flushed. “Are you blushing? I don’t believe it. I’ve never seen you blush. Merlin, just what the hell did you and Potter get up to?”

Draco sniffed and put on his most haughty Malfoy sneer. “My dear Mr. Zabini, a Malfoy never kisses and tells.”

Blaise snorted as Draco climbed into bed. “Maybe not…but a Slytherin definitely shags and tells his best mates. So, how’s Potter in the sack?”

“How do you know we had sex today? And how do you know we haven’t shagged before today?” Draco demanded.

“For one thing, I know you’re not a slut and I’d bet 50 Galleons Potter isn’t either, so I figured you probably haven’t slept with him before today. Especially since I know you’ve never been with a bloke before. As for how I know you shagged today…well, let’s just say your normal swagger is a little stiff this evening.” Blaise gave Draco a pointed look.

Draco cursed his sudden inability to control his blush. Harry must be contagious, because he’d never had any difficulty before this. Giving his fellow Slytherin a mock-glare, Draco said, “All right, fine. Yes, we shagged…today. Happy?”

Blaise just rolled his eyes. “And?”

“And…the earth moved, the angels wept…” Draco smirked. “That what you wanted to hear?”

Blaise shrugged and turned his back, searching through some books on his desk. “Just want to make sure you were enjoying your little foray into Potter’s world, that’s all.”

Draco sighed and gave up. “Fine, I’ll be serious. It was great. Really. You’d never guess, but Harry’s actually very good in bed. I won’t go into details, but I will say it was the best sex I’ve ever had. You might want to consider getting yourself a little bent, Blaise—you don’t know what you’re missing.”

Blaise made a face, but secretly he was relieved. He didn’t know the details of Draco’s sexual history, but he knew his friend had some hang-ups about sex and he was glad to hear Potter had obviously treated him all right. “Thanks, but no. I’ll stick with the ladies.”

Draco grinned, then reached up to close the curtains around one side of his bed. “Your loss. Anyway, I’m for bed. See you in the morning.”

“Potter wear you out, did he? I guess I haven’t been giving him enough credit all these years.”

“Neither had I, until today,” Draco said, with a satisfied smirk. Hearing Blaise laugh, Draco shut the last curtain and prepared to enjoy reliving some of his day’s most pleasurable moments in his dreams.

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

“Harry Potter! Where have you been all day?” Hands on her hips, Hermione accosted Harry as soon as he entered the common room.

Harry lifted a brow. “You didn’t get my note? I left one on Ron’s bed.”

Ron pulled Hermione back down to the couch where she’d been sitting with him before jumping up at Harry’s arrival. “Yeah, we got it mate. Hermione just got a little bit concerned when you didn’t show up by dinner.”

“Oh, sorry. Actually, I didn’t realise I had been gone so long ‘til I noticed it was half-eight. I wasn’t paying attention to the time,” Harry replied.

“What were you doing for so long?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing much. Did some thinking, got some exercise, took a nap.”

“All day, Harry? You were gone eight hours and that’s it?” Hermione wouldn’t let up.

Sighing, Harry settled himself in the chair opposite the couch. “Look, Hermione, you know I love you, but we’ve had this conversation before. I needed a day. To myself. That’s why I left the note, so you guys wouldn’t worry. It’s no different than any of the other times I’ve taken one of my—what did you call it, Ron?”

“A ‘Harry Day,’” Ron said, grinning.

“Yeah, today was a ‘Harry Day.’ I needed one.”

Hermione still looked concerned. “Any particular reason why? I know you think I’m just being nosy, but I’m concerned about you, Harry, and I want to make sure you’re all right.”

As exasperating as Hermione could be, Harry knew she really cared. So he held his tongue and answered patiently. “I’m fine, I swear. No particular reason—it’s like I told you both before: I’m the kind of person who needs to be alone sometimes. I appreciate your concern, ‘Mione, but honestly—I’m perfectly fine. Have I been acting like something’s wrong?”

Ron looked at his girlfriend. “Nope. I even told Hermione that I thought you’d been in a rather good mood this week.”

“Ok, ok. I’ll stop pestering you, Harry,” Hermione said with an apologetic smile.

Harry got up and leaned over to hug the curly-haired girl. “S’alright. I know you do it because you care. And you know I promised I’d tell you or Dumbledore if something were wrong. And I will. But right now, the only thing that I’m concerned about is taking a shower. So I’ll see you guys tomorrow, all right?”

“Yeah. Good night, Harry,” Hermione said.

“You coming up soon, Ron?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, see you upstairs in a bit,” Ron said, snapping his attention back to Harry’s face.

Harry waved and made his way up the spiral stairs. Ron watched him go, thinking about what he’d just seen. When Harry had bent down to hug Hermione, Ron’s attention had been caught by a red mark towards the back of Harry’s neck. His first reaction had been to blurt out, “Where’d you get that hickey, Harry?” but for once in his life, he’d held his tongue. Harry had just spent the last ten minutes assuring them he’d been off on of his ‘alone’ days…so either that wasn’t a big, fat, love bite, or Harry didn’t want them to know he’d been with someone. Ron strongly suspected it was the latter. On the off chance he was wrong, Ron decided to keep mouth shut and his eyes open to see if he noticed any other signs that Harry was seeing someone on the sly. If he did—well, he’d cross that bridge later.

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

Bang, bang, bang!

Draco stood at the door to Professor Snape’s private quarters, hoping the irritable git didn’t snap his head off for knocking him up at five in the morning on a Sunday. He’d told Blaise he needn’t come with him, but his roommate stood stubbornly beside him.

To Draco’s surprise, the door swung open almost immediately, revealing a wide-awake, fully dressed Snape. The sallow-faced Head of Slytherin cocked a brow and regarded his two students.

“Let me guess. Another dream, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, sir. Sorry to disturb you so early, but I—”

Snape waved his apology aside. “It’s not a problem; you haven’t disturbed me. Come in.”

Once settled in Snape’s living room with tea, Draco wet his lips and started.

“I think…I’m pretty sure it was a vision. It was a lot like the one I had of Lucius and Potter—very clear, not like the weird dreams I was having just before Hallowe’en. But it was another Death Eater attack.”

Snape’s gaze sharpened and he stopped stirring his tea. “Could you tell where it was happening?”

“Well, it was a village—a wizarding village—of some sort, but I didn’t recognise it,” Draco said, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I could describe it to you, but it would probably be easier if you saw it through the Pensieve.”

Snape nodded. “I’ll do that. What happened in your vision?”

Draco took a deep breath. “It was very dark at first, but then these flaming torches appeared—I think a bunch of the Death Eaters must have Apparated in with torches and lit them as soon as they arrived. They started marching down the street—there must have been a dozen or so of them—staying all bunched up together at first. Then one of them started yelling and the others joined in. So they’re marching and yelling and holding the torches—it reminded me of some medieval town mob, to be honest.

“They stopped in the middle of what looked to be the town square. There was a really huge tree in the middle of the square and they all ringed around it. Then they lit it on fire. They must have cast some kind of accelerant spell, because the tree was blazing in just a minute or two.

“With all of the yelling and flames, people started sticking their heads out of doors and windows. At first, it seemed like people were trying to figure out what was going on—you could hear voices shouting to one another—but they seemed to cotton on pretty quickly to what was up, because one woman started screaming, ‘Death Eaters!’ and then doors were slamming shut.

“I guess that was the signal, because the Death Eaters spread out to the houses around the square and started torching them. They’d wait to make sure the house was really on fire, then move on to another one. It wasn’t long before there were 20, 25 houses on fire—and the fire was spreading to trees and gardens. The whole village was an inferno!”

“What did the Death Eaters do after that? Did they stay, or did they Disapparate?” Snape asked.

“They Disapparated. They all gathered back together and watched for a few minutes, then they were gone. But the vision followed them,” Draco said. “Well, I’m pretty sure it was the same group. The way the vision shifted, it sort of picked up after the action started.”

“Action?” Blaise asked, saying something for the first time since they’d arrived.

Draco nodded. “Yes. The Death Eaters were in a shopping district this time. It was a wizarding area again—it might have been part of the same village, or it could have been somewhere completely different. By the time I was Seeing this part, the Death Eaters were already smashing storefronts and they seemed to be…looting.”

“Looting?” Snape’s brows shot straight up. “They were taking things from the shops? Could you see what they were taking?”

Draco shook his head and looked frustrated. “No, dam—er, no, sir. I couldn’t. Just that several of them were coming back out of the shop—it was just the one shop they were robbing—with bundles in their arms. I guess they’d gotten what they wanted, because some of the Death Eaters started torching the shops.

“Several of the buildings were already on fire when there was a shout. A man had come out of one of the buildings—he was in his dressing gown, so I assume he must have lived over one of the stores. He had his wand out and he started shooting off curses at the Death Eaters closest to him. He got off a few good ones and a couple of Death Eaters went down—Stupefied probably—before he got hit with something that knocked him flat on his ar—er, bum.

“The wizard lost his wand when he fell, and he was scrambling, trying to find it, when he got hit again, this time with the Cruciatus. It was Aunt Bellatrix, Professor. She’d taken off her mask, so I could see that it was definitely her. She was laughing and kept hitting him over and over. He was writhing on the ground, screaming. Screaming and screaming, I didn’t know a human could sound like that, he—”

Draco’s eyes had gone slightly glassy and his face had gone even paler than usual. He was obviously reliving his own experience under the Cruciatus, so Snape cut him off.

“What happened next, Draco? Did Bellatrix kill him?” he said, making his voice sharp to grab Draco back from his memories.

It worked. Draco snapped back. “I…I don’t know. I woke up then.”

“Woke me up, too,” Blaise added. “He let out this hideous scream and woke himself up. I’m surprised all of Slytherin didn’t hear you, Draco.”

Draco shot his friend an angry glare. “So what if they did, Zabini? Do you think I care if I disturbed their beauty sleep? What the—”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to referee a shouting match.

“Mr. Malfoy!” he barked. “Enough! You can shout at Mr. Zabini later, though you really haven’t any cause to—he was merely making an observation. It is far more important that we get this information to Dumbledore, so that he and I can examine your vision in the Pensieve. If we are able to recognise the location, we may be able to prevent the attack. I’m going to get a phial to collect your memory. Stay here and try not to hex one another.”

Snape stalked from the room, robes snapping in his wake. Draco looked at Blaise a bit sheepishly.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bite your head off,” he apologised.

Blaise shrugged. “Not a problem. I imagine a dream like that would make anyone a bit edgy.”

Snape returned with a phial and Draco siphoned off a silvery strand of memory, dripping it carefully from the tip of his wand into the glass container. When he was done, Snape stoppered it tightly.

“I’ll take this to Dumbledore in a hour or so and we’ll have a look. If we have any more questions for you, I’ll come find you. The two of you can return to the dormitory for now.”

“Yes, sir,” they answered and took their leave from Snape’s quarters. On the way back to the dormitory, Blaise asked Draco, “Do you plan to tell Potter about this?”

“Yes, of course,” Draco replied. “Do you think I shouldn’t?”

“No, I think you should. From what you’ve told me about Potter’s experiences—and from knowing Snape—I have a feeling that the ‘older and wiser’ ones will try keeping us out of the loop. Did you notice the way Snape came to attention when you mentioned your vision was a Death Eater attack? Makes me wonder if he knows something more. That’s why I think the three of us—the four of us, if Potter wants to include Bell—should keep each other informed as much as possible. Don’t you agree?”

Draco nodded “Definitely. I’m supposed to see Harry after lunch to work on our DADA assignment. I’ll talk to him then. Hopefully, Snape will recognise the location. I’ll ask him before I meet Harry, see if I can convince him to tell me.”

“Good luck,” Blaise said dryly.

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

As arranged, Harry met Draco in the library directly after tea. He saw his boyfriend sitting at the same table they’d shared previously. Taking a circuitous route through the rows of shelves, he made sure no one was nearby. When he finally approached the table, Draco was looking at him oddly and a fleeting expression of surprise crossed his face as Harry tilted his chin up and gave him a quick kiss before sliding into the chair opposite him.

“Hello, Harry,” Draco greeted him, looked amused. “Very Slytherin of you to be doing reconnaissance on your way over.”

Harry just grinned. “How are you?”

Draco’s expression sobered. “I had another dream—vision—last night. I need to tell you about it.”

“Are you all right?” Harry asked immediately.

Draco’s face softened a little at Harry’s concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. But I don’t think we should discuss this here. Why don’t we sign out some books and meet in the Room of Requirement?”

“Can’t,” Harry said, with a slight smirk. “I happen to know it’s in use.”

“In use? By whom?”

“Er, Ron and Hermione. They’re having a little ‘together’ time,” Harry answered. “What about that room in the dungeons?”

Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought of his two least favourite Gryffindors in the room he though of as belonging to he and Harry, but he nodded. “All right. I’ll go first then, make sure it’s clear. Why don’t you follow about…10 minutes after I leave.”

“Fine. Let’s get the books.”

About twenty minutes later, Harry rapped lightly on the door to the unused office. Draco opened it, his eyebrows rising when he saw no one there. Feeling Harry brush past him, Draco closed and locked the door, adding additional wards for privacy as well.

Harry drew off his Cloak and pulled Draco forward into his arms. Draco welcomed Harry’s kiss by opening his mouth and sliding his tongue against Harry’s. A hand reached up to entwine in Harry’s hair as he held him close.

“Mmmm…” Harry hummed as they separated. “Hello again. Now, tell me about your vision.”

They settled on the hideous couch and Draco filled Harry in on what he’d Seen.

“I stopped by Snape’s on the way to lunch. He told me that he and Dumbledore believe the village is in Ireland, on the outskirts of Dublin.”

“Ireland!” Harry exclaimed. “Ron has family in Ireland. I wonder if he’d know this village—or if any of his family lives there.”

“Hmmm…think we could convince Dumbledore to let Ron have a look in the Pensieve?” Draco asked.

“You’d let him do that? Go into your memory?” Harry sounded surprised.

Draco shrugged. “We can’t tell him it’s mine without telling him I’m having visions. He wouldn’t have to know where the memory came from. So no, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, right. Well, yeah, I think we should ask. If Dumbledore doesn’t want to get Ron involved for whatever reason, we could ask him to show it to Arthur or Molly. They’re Order members, so I don’t see why he wouldn’t be willing to do that, especially if it helps prepare a counter-attack,” Harry said.

“All right. We’ll ask him when we see him at the meeting.”

“Meeting?” Harry asked.

Draco smiled. “Yeah. Snape said Dumbledore wanted to see us at two o’clock. I told Snape I had to meet you for the DADA assignment, and that I’d pass on the message.”

“Did he say what the meeting was about?” Harry wanted to know.

“No. I asked, but he said we’d find out when we got there,” Draco said, making a face at Snape’s secrecy.

“If it were just you he wanted to see, I’d understand. But I wonder why he wants to see the both of us together.”

“Blaise as well,” Draco added.

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Odd. You said the meeting is at two? That’s only…forty minutes from now. Guess we won’t be getting much work done on the assignment until after the meeting then.”

Draco gave him a suggestive look and trailed his fingers down Harry’s chest, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. “Sort of silly for us to even bother starting work right now, isn’t it? After all, we’d only just get going to have to stop. I think we could probably find a more…productive…use for our time, don’t you?”

In reply, Harry pushed Draco onto his back and crawled on top of him. “Definitely,” he said, then proceeded to snog Draco senseless.

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

A/N: Sorry I took so long to update. Real Life got in the way! Your reviews are appreciated!

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