A/N: This story updated with a really great beta-ed version 11/17/05! Thanks to Amber over at Checkmated for the help!!!
Also, there's a bit of Ron/Hermi in here.
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Chapter 3: Changes
Back at Hogwarts, Harry’s mind was reeling. Upon recognizing Malfoy as the invalid in the hospital bed, he had felt a wave of anger course through him so quickly that, before he realized what he was doing, he lunged at Malfoy with every bit of strength he had left. Had Professor McGonagall not stunned him instantly with a well-placed Petrificis Totalis, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.
Now, un-stunned and forced to pace outside the invisible barrier McGonagall had cast around Malfoy’s bed, Harry forced himself to focus. But, as the story poured from Malfoy’s hoarse, tired voice, he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
Snape tried to kill Malfoy--no, wait. Snape made it look like he’d killed Malfoy? Then he took off back to the Death Eaters. But, that would mean that he was still a spy for the Order--but he killed Dumbledore! But didn’t Dumbledore’s note allude to things not being as they seem? Does this mean that Dumbledore’s death was planned? That he and Snape had done it as a trick?
Halfway through Malfoy’s explanation, Harry had to sit down. This was all too much.
McGonagall reached out and patted his back. “Are you beginning understand, Potter?” she asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. “No, he’s lying! We can’t trust him!” Harry shouted halfheartedly. “He’s in on it! All of this stuff is fake! It’s meant to make us--”
Professor McGonagall cut him off. “No. It isn’t. In his current state, he is hardly able to take Veritaserum, but there are… other ways to tell lies from the truth. Look closely at your note from Dumbledore and you’ll see it. It’s there. This was all part of a very secret plan--an oath between Snape, Dumbledore, and even Mr. Malfoy's mother--one even I was not aware of until… until after.”
Draco, still being mended and in much pain, managed to roll his eyes arrogantly. “Where’s my mum? Will the Death Eaters go after her?”
“She is being taken care of. She will be sent word that you are okay, but any further communication will not be allowed.”
“What, can’t I go and see her once I am healed?” he pushed petulantly, the fight in him beginning to emerge again.
“No, Mr Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall shook her head. “You must go into hiding--to the last place anyone would expect to find you.”
“And where exactly would that be?” he sneered.
Professor McGonagall glanced warily look at Harry. “When you are more fully healed, you will go to the Burrow.”
“No!” Harry jumped violently from his chair, his cry of disdain echoed as powerfully as Malfoy could muster.
“Sit down, Mister Potter,” McGonagall scolded loudly. “It has been arranged. The Weasleys have already been notified.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Malfoy sat up and then flopped backwards again as the pain of his movements hit him.
“Calm down, the both of you,” McGonagall replied tightly. She stood up and motioned for Harry to follow her. She stopped just out of Malfoy’s earshot.
“This won’t be easy, but you must try. Dumbledore died to keep this boy safe, ad whether we agree with it or not, the decision has already been made.” She glanced back at Malfoy, who was barking at Madame Pomfrey for some more food. “I believe you have come into possession of some things that may prove useful in leading your new house guest in the right direction? Yes?”
Harry thought of the memories Dumbledore left him, and scoffed under his breath.
Malfoy would never change--no matter what Harry showed him about the real Lord Voldemort.
*
After dinner, Ron and Hermione stole out to the garden and were just about to make up for what Hermione giggled was “lost time,” when they heard a loud pop on the other side of the yard. Pushing Ron away grudgingly, Hermione walked toward the noise.
“That’s probably just Harry and Professor McGonagall,” Ron said, following after her and whining a bit. “Hermione, come back. We can say hello in five minutes, can’t we?”
Hermione sighed loudly and cast him an annoyed look. She wanted nothing more to stay in the garden with Ron, but she wasn’t about to be rude.
As the pair rounded the corner to the front of the house, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Harry was waving at her with a forced smile, but she barely gave him a second look.
'Is that…?' Hermione thought, straining her eyes, thinking she was surely seeing things. She felt Ron drop her hand and take a blind step backwards, staggering.
“Harry? Mal…” was all Ron could manage.
Hermione’s hand went for her wand just as Professor McGonagall broke the awkward scene.
“Put that away, Miss Granger, and come inside. You too, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall said stiffly. “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“I’ll say you bloody well do!” Ron barked, more at Harry than McGonagall.
Hermione grabbed his hand again more in an effort to steady herself than to hold him back from pummeling the boy who appeared to be Draco Malfoy, limping as he made his way to the front door.
As they entered the house, Ginny spit her pumpkin juice across the table and did a double take, while Fred and George both fell backwards in their chairs with a crash. Bill and Charlie stopped talking and jumped up from the table, wands drawn. Mr. Weasley raised a hand to stop his sons from attacking, and Mrs. Weasley got up and busied herself with the teapot.
Hermione vaguely noticed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s lack of what she would have considered a normal reaction to a future Death Eater entering their home. 'They must have known,' Hermione thought numbly as she took the seat offered by Professor McGonagall.
*
Ginny could not believe her eyes. Did ferret-boy really just walk into her kitchen?
She took in his ragged appearance and, for a split second, felt pity for his limp and massive bruises before remembering that this was same Draco Malfoy that had, merely a few days ago, tried to kill Dumbledore. She narrowed her eyes as Harry began his explanation.
He briefly shared his letter from Dumbledore, and then McGonagall did the same. When it was Malfoy’s turn to tell his side of the story, the room visibly tensed.
'How could this have happened? How could Dumbledore have known? Snape actually did something... brave?' Ginny thought, her mind sharp as she eyed the blond newcomer that, over her past five years at Hogwarts, she had come to loathe.
True, Malfoy did sound less than thrilled to be where he was but she had to give him credit. In his current condition, he wasn’t rising to the bait as Ron and her brothers shouted at him and called him names from across the kitchen. He seemed too exhausted to fight about the matter. If his story was to be believed, he had his wand taken from him--not that he could use it if he tried--and he simply wanted to sleep.
And Harry, her Harry…he looked ashamed—as if it were his fault that this all happened. Her eyes started to burn.
After the explanations were over and it was announced that Malfoy would be staying under the protection of the Weasleys until a better situation presented itself, Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall helped him upstairs into Fred and George’s old room.
The door had barely swung shut when the room exploded angrily.
“This is absurd! How dare he think we’ll help him!”
“He’s lying, he’s working for You-Know-Know, obviously!”
“He’s not staying in this house if I can help it!”
Ginny looked up as Harry’s shrill whistle pierced the air.
“Look, I’m sorry this had to happen to you all, I truly am, but… but I think he’s telling the truth,” Harry said quietly. “I know I can’t explain it, and I certainly wasn’t comfortable with this earlier either, but Dumbledore wanted it this way, and he trusts him so… so, now we all have to trust him as well.”
Thick silence hung in the air until Prof. McGonagall came back into the kitchen. She bid her good-byes to the Weasley family, then beckoned Harry, Ron and Hermione toward the door. Ginny was close enough to overhear.
“Keep an eye on him. After all he’s been through, I doubt he’s going to be up to pulling anything--I suspect he’ll just give you lot some trouble about being here. Please, try to control your tempers and, Harry, you will work to help him understand?” Harry nodded silently. And with that, she gave the kitchen one last look and apparated.
“Well, I think that does it for us all tonight,” Mr. Weasley said, standing up and stretching. Slowly, the room came back to life, and Ginny’s brothers got up, rubbing their eyes, and made their way into the living room. It was unspoken that--even if they had to sleep on the roof--everyone would be staying at the Burrow tonight.
Ginny stared at the floor until she felt eyes on her. Looking up, she saw Harry look away. The events of tonight forgotten in an instant, she rose from her seat and hugged him. He returned her embrace fiercely and whispered, “We should talk.”
She nodded and, taking his hand, led him outside. Once they door was shut behind them, she had intended to drop Harry’s hand, but he held on tightly and led her into the shed, his wand lighting the quiet darkness.
In the cramped little space, Harry reached up and rubbed it gently. “Ginny, what I said to you the other day… you’ve got to know that is the absolute hardest thing I’ve ever had to say to anyone. It was like I put a knife through my own…” He trailed off, looking shyly at the ground, “though my own heart,” he whispered.
Ginny saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I know, Harry… I just--”
“I know,” Harry nodded. “Believe me when I say that it is for the best and that things will all resolve themselves in the end. I need our friendship, Ginny, and I am hoping you can look past what I did--”
Ginny’s emotion at this took her by surprise, and she laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter--my heart’s not quite that broken!”
Harry smiled, but looked confused and almost… disappointed.
“I mean,” Ginny went on hastily, still surprised that she actually believed what she was saying. “Of course we can be friends! Regardless of… erm… other things that have gone on, we still are.” She squeezed his hand. “Besides, it’s going to be a tough haul, looking out for Malfoy, that stupid git! I can’t believe…ah well, I do need to practice some hexes….” she grinned slyly.
‘Ah yes,’ she thought, ‘if Malfoy tries anything, he won’t know what hit him.’
Also, there's a bit of Ron/Hermi in here.
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Chapter 3: Changes
Back at Hogwarts, Harry’s mind was reeling. Upon recognizing Malfoy as the invalid in the hospital bed, he had felt a wave of anger course through him so quickly that, before he realized what he was doing, he lunged at Malfoy with every bit of strength he had left. Had Professor McGonagall not stunned him instantly with a well-placed Petrificis Totalis, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.
Now, un-stunned and forced to pace outside the invisible barrier McGonagall had cast around Malfoy’s bed, Harry forced himself to focus. But, as the story poured from Malfoy’s hoarse, tired voice, he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
Snape tried to kill Malfoy--no, wait. Snape made it look like he’d killed Malfoy? Then he took off back to the Death Eaters. But, that would mean that he was still a spy for the Order--but he killed Dumbledore! But didn’t Dumbledore’s note allude to things not being as they seem? Does this mean that Dumbledore’s death was planned? That he and Snape had done it as a trick?
Halfway through Malfoy’s explanation, Harry had to sit down. This was all too much.
McGonagall reached out and patted his back. “Are you beginning understand, Potter?” she asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. “No, he’s lying! We can’t trust him!” Harry shouted halfheartedly. “He’s in on it! All of this stuff is fake! It’s meant to make us--”
Professor McGonagall cut him off. “No. It isn’t. In his current state, he is hardly able to take Veritaserum, but there are… other ways to tell lies from the truth. Look closely at your note from Dumbledore and you’ll see it. It’s there. This was all part of a very secret plan--an oath between Snape, Dumbledore, and even Mr. Malfoy's mother--one even I was not aware of until… until after.”
Draco, still being mended and in much pain, managed to roll his eyes arrogantly. “Where’s my mum? Will the Death Eaters go after her?”
“She is being taken care of. She will be sent word that you are okay, but any further communication will not be allowed.”
“What, can’t I go and see her once I am healed?” he pushed petulantly, the fight in him beginning to emerge again.
“No, Mr Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall shook her head. “You must go into hiding--to the last place anyone would expect to find you.”
“And where exactly would that be?” he sneered.
Professor McGonagall glanced warily look at Harry. “When you are more fully healed, you will go to the Burrow.”
“No!” Harry jumped violently from his chair, his cry of disdain echoed as powerfully as Malfoy could muster.
“Sit down, Mister Potter,” McGonagall scolded loudly. “It has been arranged. The Weasleys have already been notified.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Malfoy sat up and then flopped backwards again as the pain of his movements hit him.
“Calm down, the both of you,” McGonagall replied tightly. She stood up and motioned for Harry to follow her. She stopped just out of Malfoy’s earshot.
“This won’t be easy, but you must try. Dumbledore died to keep this boy safe, ad whether we agree with it or not, the decision has already been made.” She glanced back at Malfoy, who was barking at Madame Pomfrey for some more food. “I believe you have come into possession of some things that may prove useful in leading your new house guest in the right direction? Yes?”
Harry thought of the memories Dumbledore left him, and scoffed under his breath.
Malfoy would never change--no matter what Harry showed him about the real Lord Voldemort.
*
After dinner, Ron and Hermione stole out to the garden and were just about to make up for what Hermione giggled was “lost time,” when they heard a loud pop on the other side of the yard. Pushing Ron away grudgingly, Hermione walked toward the noise.
“That’s probably just Harry and Professor McGonagall,” Ron said, following after her and whining a bit. “Hermione, come back. We can say hello in five minutes, can’t we?”
Hermione sighed loudly and cast him an annoyed look. She wanted nothing more to stay in the garden with Ron, but she wasn’t about to be rude.
As the pair rounded the corner to the front of the house, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Harry was waving at her with a forced smile, but she barely gave him a second look.
'Is that…?' Hermione thought, straining her eyes, thinking she was surely seeing things. She felt Ron drop her hand and take a blind step backwards, staggering.
“Harry? Mal…” was all Ron could manage.
Hermione’s hand went for her wand just as Professor McGonagall broke the awkward scene.
“Put that away, Miss Granger, and come inside. You too, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall said stiffly. “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“I’ll say you bloody well do!” Ron barked, more at Harry than McGonagall.
Hermione grabbed his hand again more in an effort to steady herself than to hold him back from pummeling the boy who appeared to be Draco Malfoy, limping as he made his way to the front door.
As they entered the house, Ginny spit her pumpkin juice across the table and did a double take, while Fred and George both fell backwards in their chairs with a crash. Bill and Charlie stopped talking and jumped up from the table, wands drawn. Mr. Weasley raised a hand to stop his sons from attacking, and Mrs. Weasley got up and busied herself with the teapot.
Hermione vaguely noticed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s lack of what she would have considered a normal reaction to a future Death Eater entering their home. 'They must have known,' Hermione thought numbly as she took the seat offered by Professor McGonagall.
*
Ginny could not believe her eyes. Did ferret-boy really just walk into her kitchen?
She took in his ragged appearance and, for a split second, felt pity for his limp and massive bruises before remembering that this was same Draco Malfoy that had, merely a few days ago, tried to kill Dumbledore. She narrowed her eyes as Harry began his explanation.
He briefly shared his letter from Dumbledore, and then McGonagall did the same. When it was Malfoy’s turn to tell his side of the story, the room visibly tensed.
'How could this have happened? How could Dumbledore have known? Snape actually did something... brave?' Ginny thought, her mind sharp as she eyed the blond newcomer that, over her past five years at Hogwarts, she had come to loathe.
True, Malfoy did sound less than thrilled to be where he was but she had to give him credit. In his current condition, he wasn’t rising to the bait as Ron and her brothers shouted at him and called him names from across the kitchen. He seemed too exhausted to fight about the matter. If his story was to be believed, he had his wand taken from him--not that he could use it if he tried--and he simply wanted to sleep.
And Harry, her Harry…he looked ashamed—as if it were his fault that this all happened. Her eyes started to burn.
After the explanations were over and it was announced that Malfoy would be staying under the protection of the Weasleys until a better situation presented itself, Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall helped him upstairs into Fred and George’s old room.
The door had barely swung shut when the room exploded angrily.
“This is absurd! How dare he think we’ll help him!”
“He’s lying, he’s working for You-Know-Know, obviously!”
“He’s not staying in this house if I can help it!”
Ginny looked up as Harry’s shrill whistle pierced the air.
“Look, I’m sorry this had to happen to you all, I truly am, but… but I think he’s telling the truth,” Harry said quietly. “I know I can’t explain it, and I certainly wasn’t comfortable with this earlier either, but Dumbledore wanted it this way, and he trusts him so… so, now we all have to trust him as well.”
Thick silence hung in the air until Prof. McGonagall came back into the kitchen. She bid her good-byes to the Weasley family, then beckoned Harry, Ron and Hermione toward the door. Ginny was close enough to overhear.
“Keep an eye on him. After all he’s been through, I doubt he’s going to be up to pulling anything--I suspect he’ll just give you lot some trouble about being here. Please, try to control your tempers and, Harry, you will work to help him understand?” Harry nodded silently. And with that, she gave the kitchen one last look and apparated.
“Well, I think that does it for us all tonight,” Mr. Weasley said, standing up and stretching. Slowly, the room came back to life, and Ginny’s brothers got up, rubbing their eyes, and made their way into the living room. It was unspoken that--even if they had to sleep on the roof--everyone would be staying at the Burrow tonight.
Ginny stared at the floor until she felt eyes on her. Looking up, she saw Harry look away. The events of tonight forgotten in an instant, she rose from her seat and hugged him. He returned her embrace fiercely and whispered, “We should talk.”
She nodded and, taking his hand, led him outside. Once they door was shut behind them, she had intended to drop Harry’s hand, but he held on tightly and led her into the shed, his wand lighting the quiet darkness.
In the cramped little space, Harry reached up and rubbed it gently. “Ginny, what I said to you the other day… you’ve got to know that is the absolute hardest thing I’ve ever had to say to anyone. It was like I put a knife through my own…” He trailed off, looking shyly at the ground, “though my own heart,” he whispered.
Ginny saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I know, Harry… I just--”
“I know,” Harry nodded. “Believe me when I say that it is for the best and that things will all resolve themselves in the end. I need our friendship, Ginny, and I am hoping you can look past what I did--”
Ginny’s emotion at this took her by surprise, and she laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter--my heart’s not quite that broken!”
Harry smiled, but looked confused and almost… disappointed.
“I mean,” Ginny went on hastily, still surprised that she actually believed what she was saying. “Of course we can be friends! Regardless of… erm… other things that have gone on, we still are.” She squeezed his hand. “Besides, it’s going to be a tough haul, looking out for Malfoy, that stupid git! I can’t believe…ah well, I do need to practice some hexes….” she grinned slyly.
‘Ah yes,’ she thought, ‘if Malfoy tries anything, he won’t know what hit him.’
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