Funerals and Weddings

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

Chapter the Fifty-third: A Surprise Visitor
25 January

The days passed quickly and Harry and Draco were hard-pressed to find time to see one another. Quidditch practise took up two days a week, and the homework load for sixth-years had not lightened a whit. They managed to meet a couple of times to practise Occlumency, but Occlumency lessons weren’t exactly conducive to snogging sessions. Harry managed to slip away from Ron and Hermione one night to study with Draco (they took frequent study breaks), but he couldn’t do it too often, because they’d want to know where he was going to study and with whom—and probably try to tag along. It was definitely frustrating.

It seemed to Harry that Ron was taking an unusual interest in his whereabouts lately. Normally it was Hermione acting as mother hen, but Harry felt like every time he turned around, Ron was standing right behind him. When Ron had caught Harry sneaking back into the dormitory after his “study” session with Draco had run past midnight, he’d asked an awful lot of questions: Where’ve you been Harry? What were you doing? Why are you so late getting back in? Harry’d had to think fast and he’d come up with some waffle about falling asleep while studying in an unused classroom down on the fourth floor. He’d gotten the distinct impression, though, that Ron didn’t believe him.

Katie and Blaise were feeling a bit of the same frustration as Harry and Draco—they both had busy schedules and loads of homework—but at least they weren’t in a secret relationship. The news that a Gryffindor was dating a Slytherin had spread like wildfire through Hogwarts. Although both Katie and Blaise took some flak, for the most part people seemed to accept their relationship. Harry hoped that it was a positive omen for the day he and Draco could finally be open about their own relationship, but Draco wasn’t as optimistic.

It was finally Friday and Draco was busy copying the last of Professor Vector’s Arithmancy notes when a knock sounded at the door. At Vector’s call to enter, a student who Draco thought to be a fourth-year Hufflepuff entered the room and told Vector that Headmaster Dumbledore wanted to see Draco Malfoy in his office. Vector excused Draco and he quickly packed up his things and followed the Hufflepuff.

“The headmaster asked me to tell you that the password is ‘HobNob,’” the girl told Draco as they made their way down the corridor. Draco thanked her and they parted company. Draco reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office and gave the password. Reaching the top of the spiral stairway, he knocked at the office and was invited to enter.

When he walked into the office, it took all of his Malfoy training not to drop his bag in surprise. He hadn’t had any idea why the headmaster wanted to see him, but he certainly hadn’t expected to see his mother sitting in a chair opposite Dumbledore’s desk!

“Mother!” Draco said. “What a pleasant surprise. How are you?”

Narcissa stood and hugged Draco. “I’m well. How are you? It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you as well,” Draco replied.

Dumbledore rose from behind his desk. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone to chat. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about and I have business to see to. Help yourself to tea. Narcissa, you are of course welcome to join us for dinner this evening in the Great Hall.”

“Thank you, headmaster, I think I will stay,” Narcissa inclined her head regally. Dumbledore excused himself and left the office.

Narcissa sat back down and Draco seated himself in the matching armchair. “Mother, I had no idea you were thinking of visiting. Why didn’t you owl to tell me you were coming?”

‘Like you said you would the last time I saw you,’ he added silently to himself.

Narcissa smiled. “I thought it would be fun to surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did surprise me!” Draco replied with a pleasant smile. “Tell me, how are things at the Manor?”

“Oh, the usual. I’m redecorating the upstairs parlor and I’ve been busy picking out wallpaper. Nothing very interesting,” she laughed a little. “I’d much rather hear about how you are. Tell me what you’ve been doing since I saw you last.”

Draco tensed at his mother’s reply, but didn’t show it. Launching into a monologue of his recent activities, Draco thought quickly. Narcissa had not responded to his question the way she was supposed to.

When he’d been at home for Lucius’ funeral, his mother had pulled him aside for a serious discussion. She was very worried that the Dark Lord would start pressuring Draco to become a Death Eater now that Lucius was gone. She didn’t want to lose her only child the way she’d lost her husband. Draco had been touched at the concern she was showing, but hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking her why she’d never demonstrated such caring in the past. Her reply had both saddened and angered him: “Lucius wouldn’t let me,” she’d said, looking sad. ‘Just one more thing Lucius did to screw with my life,’ Draco had thought bitterly.

Narcissa had been relieved to hear that Draco had no intention of joining the Dark Lord—but frightened as well by the thought of what the Dark Lord would do if he were to find out that Draco had joined the Light. It was because of this fear that Narcissa had insisted that they use coded phrases to identify themselves and indicate if anything was amiss whenever they met.

Draco had thought the idea silly, but had acquiesced to appease his mother. According to Narcissa’s plan, Draco was to ask, “How are things at the Manor?” and, if everything was all right, Narcissa would reply, “Things are going just swimmingly.” If she needed to covertly let Draco know that something was wrong, she would answer, “Just the usual trouble with that house-elf.” Neither were phrases that Narcissa would ever use in a real conversation.

So now Draco wasn’t sure what to do. He’d asked the secret question, but Narcissa hadn’t given either of the correct answers. He decided to give her one more opportunity, on the off chance that she’d forgotten about using the code phrases.

“…and I’m confident that we’ll beat Hufflepuff easily next week, so that will keep Slytherin in the running for the House Cup.” Draco concluded his recitation. “But that’s enough about me. I’m really interested in knowing how things are at the Manor. You’re not having trouble with house-elves again, are you?” Draco watched her face closely to see if she took his rather broad hint.

“House-elves? No, not at all. Everything is the same as always, dear, like I said. Why do you ask?” Narcissa returned.

“Well, seeing as how I’m head of the Malfoy estate now, I don’t want to shirk my responsibilities, that’s all.” Draco replied smoothly, his expression belying none of his inner turmoil. “I’m pleased to hear everything is going swimmingly.”

‘Shite! Now what do I do? I’ve got to let someone know that this is an imposter! Where the hell is that damn fool Dumbledore when I need him?’ Draco’s thoughts raced. ‘Harry! No, that will never work—what excuse could I possibly make for wanting to have a quick private word with my arch-enemy? Who else? Snape! But how can I get him alone, without raising any suspicion? There has to be…Blaise! Of course! I can tell Blaise and he can alert Snape and Dumbledore.’

Rising, Draco said, “If you’ll excuse me a moment, Mother, I need to run down and tell Blaise that I’ll meet with him after dinner to work on our Potions assignment—we’d planned to get started on it right after classes, and I’m sure he’s wondering where I am. Why don’t you stay here and relax, and I’ll be back—”

“Oh, no, don’t be silly. I’ll come with you. No need for you to make the trip all the way back up here,” ‘Narcissa’ said, standing as well.

Smiling graciously, Draco opened the door for the woman masquerading as his mother and motioned for her to go ahead. Draco made mindless, insipid small talk on the journey to the dungeons and cursed his luck that he saw no one who could be of any possible help to him. Arriving at the Slytherin dormitory, Draco gave the password and ushered ‘Narcissa’ into the common room. He was glad to see that Blaise was not there—that meant he was likely in the room he shared with Draco.

When ‘Narcissa’ started to follow him down the corridor to his room, he discouraged her by hinting that some of his fellow house-mates might not be decent and perhaps it was best that she wait in the common room. There wasn’t really any argument she could make to this, and Draco hurried down the corridor as soon as she was seated.

Opening the door to his room, he was relieved to see Blaise sprawled on his bed, reading a book. Quickly locking the door behind him, and casting a Silencing Spell, he crossed the room and sat on the edge of Blaise’s bed.

“Draco, is something wrong?” Blaise asked, setting his book aside.

“Yeah,” Draco said, allowing the urgency to come through in his voice. “Remember what I told you about my mother setting up these ‘code phrases’ for us to use, just in case of some emergency?”

“Yeah,” Blaise said, looking puzzled. “So?”

“Well, I got called to Dumbledore’s office at the end of classes today. When I got there, I found out why: my ‘mother’ is here to visit. I swear, Blaise, she looks and sounds just like Narcissa, but when I asked her the code question, she didn’t give either of the correct answers. I even tried a second time, sort of giving her a hint, in case she’d forgotten—but she still didn’t give the right response. I’ve got to assume that this person—whoever it is—is an imposter. I need you to tell Snape and Dumbledore right away, Blaise.”

“Of course,” Blaise said, standing up. “Where are you going to be? Are you going to be staying here in the common room?”

“Damn. I have no idea. She told Dumbledore she’d stay for dinner, but it’s too early to go to the Great Hall now.”

“Hmmm,” Blaise thought for a moment. “All right, look. I’ll come out with you to the common room and I’ll listen while you plan where to go. Ah…here, let me grab some books. If she wants to stay in the common room, I’ll go ‘study’ in the library. If she wants to leave, I’ll be ‘studying’ here in the common room. I’ll go straight to Snape—he has his office hours right now, so he should easy to find. All right?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah. Shit, Blaise, this is just so bloody bizarre.”

“I’ll say. But it’s going to be all right, Draco. Stay cool—and whatever you do, don’t go off the grounds!”

“Oh, hell, no. You don’t have to worry about that,” Draco said vehemently. He headed to the door. “Oh, I told ‘Narcissa’ that I had to talk to you about moving the time we were to meet to work on our Potions project until after dinner—just in case she brings it up.”

“Gotcha,” Blaise replied, and followed Draco out to the common room.

‘Narcissa’ was chatting with Pansy Parkinson when they entered. Blaise greeted her politely, then she turned to Draco and said, “Pansy was just telling me that it isn’t quite time for dinner. I was thinking we could take a walk on the grounds; the weather is rather mild today.”

“Of course, Mother,” Draco replied. “We can head out to the lake, or if you prefer, walk through the gardens?” He reached for his cloak, which he’d placed on a couch when he came in.

“Oh, the lake sounds nice to me,” ‘Narcissa’ said. “I haven’t been out that way in such a long time.”

Draco shot Blaise a look as he held the door open for ‘Narcissa’ to exit. Then they were gone.

Blaise pretended to hunt for something in his bag for a moment, then headed for the door.

“Where are you going Blaise?” Pansy asked.

“Library—gonna study,” he said, and quickly left the common room before she could invite herself along.

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Blaise knocked on Snape’s office door and was relieved to be invited to “Enter,” in Snape’s faintly bored drawl.

He was surprised, but glad, to see Harry standing in front of Snape’s desk. He nodded at Harry before turning to Snape.

“Excuse the interruption, sir, but there’s a bit of a problem. Draco needs your help.”

“What wrong?” Harry asked before he could stop himself.

“I believe Mr. Zabini was addressing me, Mr. Potter,” Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry. Turning to Blaise, he asked, “What’s wrong with Mr. Malfoy?”

Blaise quickly explained the situation to Snape and Harry. “So, they’re out by the lake right now? He knows not to leave the grounds, right?” Harry asked.

Snape turned his obsidian eyes on Harry and lifted a brow. “And why, may I ask, are you so suddenly concerned for Mr. Malfoy’s wellbeing? Have you perhaps developed a tendre for him, Mr. Potter?”

Realising how obvious he was being, Harry blushed a little. “Er, um, no, sir, I just…well, he’s on our side now, so naturally I—”

“Want to play the hero, as usual,” Snape cut in. “I can assure you, your Gryffindor heroics won’t be necessary. You are dismissed, Mr. Potter. We shall continue our…discussion…later.”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I’m going with you.”

“You are dismissed, Mr. Potter. I suggest you leave now, unless you care to lose some more points for your house…”

Harry gritted his teeth and turned to gather his things. He listened carefully as Snape instructed Blaise:

“Go directly to Dumbledore’s office and tell him what’s happened. Password is ‘HobNob.’ If he isn’t in his office, go to McGonagall—she’ll know where he is. I’ll head out to the lake to meet Draco and this imposter now. Have Dumbledore meet us there.”

Harry shouldered his bag and opened the door. Just as it was about to close behind him, he heard Blaise say, “Draco said that if he wasn’t by the lake, he’d be in the gardens, sir.”

‘You’re dismissed, Mr. Potter,’ Harry silently cursed Snape. ‘Want to play the hero. Bloody, greasy git. No way he’s dismissing me if someone is after Draco!’

He ducked into the loo, remembering that not too long ago, he’d walked into this very same toilet and come across Draco having a meltdown. Funny, he’d never asked Draco about that. Making a mental note to do so, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak and opened the door just a crack. He waited until he heard Snape’s and Blaise’s footsteps die away, then eased out the door and followed Snape.

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Draco was grateful that the Malfoy Mask slipped easily back into place—it should have, after so many years of practise. It was coming in handy just now, as he continued to make small talk with whoever it was Polyjuiced to look like his mother. It had to be Polyjuice—he couldn’t come up with any other explanation. And this could only be a ploy of the Dark Lord’s to capture him.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Draco surreptitiously cast a glance back towards the castle. There! Finally! He could see Snape moving at a fast pace in their direction. Wanting to help his own cause as much as he could, he paused by a large boulder set a few metres back from the lake’s edge.

“Would you like to sit a moment, Mother?” he asked solicitously. “We’ll have to be heading back in a few minutes to be on time for dinner.”

‘Narcissa’ smiled. “Actually, Draco, I was just thinking—wouldn’t you like to go out to dinner? I’m sure you must be dreadfully tired of eating the same food day after day. Why don’t we venture into Hogsmeade and eat in one of the restaurants there?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Mother, and you’re quite right—the food here at Hogwarts is good, but it does get dull eating it for every meal. But—”

“Well, then, let’s go, shall we?” ‘Narcissa’ beamed and offered her arm to Draco.

Draco held back. “Well, you see, there’s a small problem with your suggestion, Mother.” He sneered for effect. “Dumbledore’s instituted some ridiculous rule that students aren’t permitted to leave the grounds because of the Death Eater attacks.”

“Surely, if you are with your own mother…”

“Like I said, it’s a ridiculous rule. Of course, if you were to ask, there’s no way that Dumbledore would tell you that you can’t take me off the grounds for dinner,” Draco smirked as he stalled. “If we hurry, I’m sure we can catch him before dinner begins.” He turned back towards the castle and was relieved to see that Snape was almost upon them.

“Ah, Professor Snape is here,” Draco remarked, bringing ‘Narcissa’s’ attention around. “Perhaps he can help—he is my head of house, after all.”

“Severus! What a pleasant surprise!” ‘Narcissa’ exclaimed.

Snape nodded respectfully at the imposter. “Narcissa. How lovely to see you. I heard you were here visiting Draco—I certainly hope you weren’t planning to leave without stopping in to say hello?”

“Of course not. I was going to drop by your quarters before I left for home. But I’m so glad you are here now. Perhaps you could help us.”

“Certainly,” Snape replied. “How can I be of service?”

“Draco and I would like to go into Hogsmeade for dinner, but he tells me that Dumbledore won’t allow it. Surely you can excuse Draco from this silly rule?”

Snape lifted a brow and glanced at Draco. “Of course. I’ll tell the headmaster I gave my permission, as long as he’s back by 8 pm. Is that satisfactory?”

“Perfect,” ‘Narcissa’ smiled. “Well, Draco, now that that’s settled—”

“Actually, Narcissa,” Snape interrupted smoothly. “I was hoping I could have a brief word with you. Unfortunately, I have a meeting later this evening, so perhaps you could spare a moment now? I’m sure Draco won’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“No, sir, not at all,” Draco responded, right on cue. “Take your time.”

Snape took ‘Narcissa’s’ arm and steered her a little ways away from the lake’s edge. Draco couldn’t hear what they were saying, but as Snape dragged out the conversation, he could see distinct signs of impatience—or possibly nerves—on ‘Narcissa’s’ face. Finally, she stepped away from Snape and walked back towards Draco.

“I’ll be sure to make time to talk more about this with you later, Severus,” she was saying. “But I’m sure poor Draco is starving and I did make the trip to spend time with my son. So if you’ll excuse us—”

Draco backed up a step and stared wide-eyed at ‘Narcissa’ as she seemed to strangle on her words and her face began to contort.

“Mother!” he feigned confusion. “Are you all right? What’s happening?”

Behind her, Snape had drawn his wand. “Yes, Narcissa, please do explain what is happening. Your appearance seems to be…changing.” His words dripped with sarcasm.

Draco eased his wand out from the sleeve of his robes and took another step back. His eyes widened for real when he realised who had been impersonating his mother: his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. He should have known.

“Aunt Bellatrix!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Why were you pretending to be my mother?”

“I’m here to catch a blood-traitor,” Bellatrix sneered. Her wand appeared from seemingly out of nowhere and it was pointed straight at Draco. Before anyone could react, Bellatrix shot off a curse at her nephew: “Exuriam visca! Congelo ani—ack!”

Harry didn’t know exactly what curses Bellatrix had used, but he was grateful that Snape had stopped her from finishing the second part with a some kind of handy strangulation spell. What he did know was that his heart almost stopped as he watched Draco fall to the ground, writhing as if in utter agony. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Harry was running full tilt towards Draco, Invisibility Cloak falling unnoticed on the ground behind him.

Dropping to his knees by Draco’s side, he reached out to touch Draco’s face, but quickly jerked back when his fingers were practically singed by the heat of Draco’s flesh. “Shite!”

Draco continued to twitch and twist on the ground, his hands scrabbling at his arms, his chest, his face. His eyes were open, staring, and simply radiated pain. His mouth was open, frozen in a silent scream. Harry realised Draco was not conscious, but that his body seemed to be responding to the heat and obvious pain reflexively.

Whipping out his wand, Harry desperately cast the first spell that came to his mind: “Finite Incantatem!” Miraculously, it seemed to work: Draco’s body went completely limp. Harry let out a sigh of relief. Draco still wasn’t conscious, but at least he didn’t seem to be in agony any more.

As he knelt by Draco’s side, Harry was vaguely aware of the fact that Snape and Bellatrix were engaged in a vicious duel. Hearing a shout, he glanced back to see Dumbledore rushing across the lawn, with Blaise hot on his heels.

Feeling more secure now that Dumbledore would soon be on the scene, Harry returned his attention to his stricken, still-silent boyfriend. Hoping his luck held, Harry tried to awaken Draco: “Enervate!”

No response.

He tried again, speaking more forcefully: “Enervate!”

Still no response.

Feeling the sharp teeth of panic starting to nip at his stomach, Harry placed his head on Draco’s chest to listen for a heartbeat. For a endless moment of sheer terror, he couldn’t hear one. Then, faintly, he heard a comforting thum-thump.

His tense shoulders relaxed until he realised that he’d only heard one heartbeat. Then the tension returned to his body as quickly as it had left. Focusing his attention, he strained to detect a regular rhythm. After listening for what felt like an eternity—but was probably just under a minute—Harry heard that sole, lonely heartbeat once again. He waited, holding his breath, but the sound was not repeated for almost another sixty seconds.

Panic wasn’t nipping any more; it was taking huge, greedy bites. Rational thought fled and Harry shook Draco roughly by his shoulders. “Draco! Draco! Wake up, dammit! Don’t you dare die on me, Draco! Do you hear me?”

When that elicited no reaction, Harry choked back a sob and dropped his forehead to rest on Draco’s. He gathered Draco’s limp form to his chest and instinctively started to rock. “Please wake up, Draco. Please. You have to come back, Draco,” he whispered. He pressed random kisses to the cold flesh of Draco’s forehead.

He was jerked back to his surroundings by a loud, jeering laugh.

“So! It’s true! The beloved Boy-Who-Lived is buggering my darling, traitorous, little neffy! I should have never doubted—the Dark Lord is never wrong! Lucius must be rolling in his grave—the Malfoy heir, not only a blood-traitor, not only a queer, but a queer involved with Harry Potter!”

Standing near the boundary of the Hogwarts property, Bellatrix appeared ready to issue forth another scathing remark, but was prevented from doing so by a booming voice: “Bellatrix!”

Harry turned his head to see Dumbledore standing to his right, only a few metres away. The old wizard radiated power and even Harry was a little frightened by the strength of the magic he could feel swelling in the air around him. Bellatrix Lestrange may have been arrogant, but she wasn’t a fool. Confronted by the impressive might of Dumbledore, she chose the better part of valor; backing up a mere five steps, she crossed the protective wards and gave the gathered wizards a mock bow.

“Until next time,” she smirked and with a loud *pop*, she was gone.

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A/N: The curses Bellatrix used on Draco are of my own invention. The Latin roots are as follows:
exuro = fire
viscus = flesh
congelo = freeze
animus = soul
Thanks for the reviews! Thanks especially to Vera Lynn (smile) and to my new readers! Y’all are great!
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