Jail Bird Choir

CHAPTER 7

“We’re closed.”

Harry bit the side of his lip in irritation at the curt snarl that rose up from behind the counter as he stepped into the little shop. The place was dark lit by a few candles and an oil lantern above the till. The walls were lined with shelves every inch of them holding a bottle, jar or tube of potion or ingredients. A musty damp smell clung in the air, and for Harry it reminded him of Snape’s classroom. An organized chaos that only the owner knew how to decipher. Harry didn’t realize he hadn’t replied to the comment until the voice broke the silence again.

“I said we’re closed, are you deaf or can’t you read the sign?” This time a blonde head appeared from behind the counter and Harry glared at the younger Malfoy who tutted loudly when he realized who his visitor was. “I take that back, your just selfishly ignorant.” Malfoy spat as he lifted the small case of potion vials onto the counter with a chink of glass.

“I need some supplies.” Harry put forward calmly as he approached the counter his gaze scanning the small section of healing potions on the back wall.

“I don’t serve traitors.” Harry stopped in his tracks as Draco reached beneath the counter and tossed the latest edition of the newspaper onto the top in front of Harry. Draco moved out from around the counter with his box of potions and shifted easily over to the shelves to begin restocking leaving Harry to read the headline of the Prophet. ‘Potter to lodge with a Murderer.’ Harry sighed heavily as he glanced at the rest of the article, noting a few of the choice words the journalist had chosen to call both him and his houseguest. Draco was purposefully ignoring him as he rearranged his shelves with a careful hand. Harry turned to leave not wanting to explain his actions to his once archrival. However before Harry could open the door to leave Draco had stepped in front of him slamming the door closed and locking it with a flick of his wand as he stared at Harry.

“How is he?” Draco whispered as he stepped away from the door leaving Harry staring at him a little shocked and certainly confused.

“A mess.” Harry muttered cautiously as he followed Draco as the blonde circled the room, collecting various potions from the shelves and placing them on the counter beside the till. “He’s been tortured by the look of him, missing all his finger nails and both toes. They’ve shaved his head too.” Harry eyed Draco strangely as the blonde shook his head in silence.

“No, the hair falls out naturally under the stress of the Dementors.” Draco kicked a stool out from behind the counter and over to a particularly tall shelf which he climbed and stretch up to grab a large bottle of orange colored potion. “Mother lost all of hers but a good lotion will make it grown again.”

“Oh.” Harry sighed remembering the exact day that Narcissa Malfoy had been arrested in her home. She’d been bait for the Ministry to draw Lucius out of hiding. It had backfired on them when she’d killed herself two weeks into her stay in Azkaban. They’d still been at school then, and although Draco had been given the news at breakfast the blonde hadn’t cried, hadn’t shown any emotion other than to simply get up and leave the great hall in silence. Harry’s opinion of Draco had changed somewhat over the years, the blonde was still a nasty cunt but beneath the hard exterior he had feelings like the rest of them, feelings Harry had seen the night of the final climatic battle. “He hasn’t spoken yet.” Harry continued trying to deflect the awkward situation Draco had created by mentioning his mother.

“And you think he will?” Draco threw a sarcastic raised eyebrow over his shoulder as he began to ring up the potions he’d selected on the till.

“He’s capable of doing so, so yes.” Harry watched as Draco placed each potion carefully into a padded wooden box, the name of the blonde’s apocathary burnt into the wooden lid.

“You’re overly optimistic then aren’t you Potter, some never speak again after their stay in that place and I can assure you Snape has been treated to the worst of it. He still knows too much for his own good.” Draco wrapped the box in a thick layer of brown paper before tying it with string and slapping the bill down onto the counter beside it. Harry glanced at the bill expecting it to be large but was surprised at how little Draco was asking for the box of potions he’d collected for Harry. Harry looked up in question but Draco shrugged his shoulders casually. “I may not serve traitors Potter but I will help family.” Harry nodded in silent understanding and sorted through the money in his bag before handing over the necessary gold coinage. Draco squirreled the money away in the till before walking over to the front door and with a wave of his wand unlocked it and held it open for the Junior Auror. “Good day Mr. Potter.” Draco muttered as Harry grabbed the package and strode for the door, reading the blondes none so subtle hint. Before Harry could step out though Draco caught his arm making him pause briefly on the threshold. “They will not stop until he is dead Harry, it is in your interest not to give them a reason to end his existence before his time.” With that Draco pushed Harry out of the door and having glanced up and down the street to make sure no one had seen him, slammed the door closed behind Harry with a sharp bang. Harry sighed as he stared at the door of the apocathary before turning and heading towards the Three Broomsticks. He needed a drink to ponder the complex conundrum that was Draco Malfoy.

The three broomsticks was relatively empty and Harry picked a spot at the back of the pub to sip at his Butterbeer. For a long time Harry stared out of the little window beside his seat, swilling the warm buttery liquid around in his glass as he pictured the last time he’d been in the Three Broomsticks. It had been three weeks after Snape had killed Dumbledore and Harry had sat in this very seat waiting for him. No one had known he was here or who he was meeting and even he had pondered why he had agreed to the note a speckled gray owl had brought him the day before. Harry had never hated some one so much as he did Severus Snape at that point the man having robbed him of the one person who could protect him. Yet he’d been compelled to come to the meeting, if not for any other reason than to shove his wand in the man’s chest and take from him what he’d taken from Harry. The temptation had tingled in his fingers as he’d gripped his wand. He’d been close to doing so too when the figure of Snape fell over him cloaked so that his identity wouldn’t be revealed but when the man had opened his mouth the killing curse had been swallowed back down. ‘Harry’. Harry had never heard the man speak his first name ever and it had taken him by surprise at the note of tenderness with which it had been given voice. Nothing more had been said and Harry had stared at the parchment that Snape had placed on the table before him. It had been a detailed map of planned attack from Voldemort forces, everything from tactics to orders scrawled in Snape’s perfect hand. Without uttering a word Snape had apologized with one simple gesture and Harry would have given the world to see the man’s eyes at that very moment. However in the shadow of the hood nothing but the crook of Snape’s nose was visible and Harry had been left staring at darkness. The meeting was brief and Snape’s parting words had been uttered barely audible in the raucous of the pubs other patrons.

‘Something’s we do for duty, others for love and family but most we do because we have no other choice.’

And then he’d gone, disappearing into the night having collected another smaller shadowed figure from beside the door. Harry had seen a flash of blonde from beneath the hood and had assumed it was Draco. The boy hadn’t been seen since Snape had taken him in the mayhem after Dumbledore had fallen.

The words haunted Harry’s nightmares like stinging whacks of a whip their meaning not lost but their explanation vague and hidden. The parchment roll had been the first of many Harry had received over the following year, each predicting attacks Voldemort was carrying out increasingly. Where Voldemort was Harry was, and while the battles had been long and vicious the climax had come in the final battle. The tip off had come in the morning carried by a small gray owl that had promptly flown off after he’d delivered his message. Unlike the other detailed maps this was a single parchment scrawled in an unfamiliar script certainly not of Severus hand. Simply it had read, ‘Godricks Hollow – 5.15.’ Harry’s mind had spun at the possibilities the note could mean but it hadn’t been until he’d stood on his Mother and Father’s front porch and watched the army apperated into the field in front of him that he realized what. Voldemort his former self reanimated in all his glory and beside him stood a figure Harry would never mistake.

Severus Snape had become the enemy.

“I’m sorry sir but I wanted to know if you’d be requiring lunch.” Harry jumped practically out of his seat as he spun around at the voice addressing him. Lost in his thoughts he hadn’t realized the time and stared up apologetically at the young witch that was waiting beside his table for and order with a pad and quill.

“Um, no thank-you I’ve got to get home.” Downing his now cold Butterbeer in one go Harry hastily got to his feet and having tucked the package Draco had given him under his arm quickly strode from the pub.

TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>