Be Careful
99: How You Accept Help
By Anne B. Walsh
Harry’s little company had planned to leave for Hogwarts around noon, but in the usual way of departures, one thing after another had delayed them, and it was nearly dark before they finally gathered around the two house-elves in Andromeda’s living room. Lupin and Tonks had agreed to remain behind only after Harry’s promise that he’d call them in case of emergency.
But there won’t be any emergency. Harry fingered the Invisibility Cloak where it hung over his arm. We’ll find the last Horcrux and get rid of it, and then I’ll find Voldemort and get rid of him. Somehow. Go off somewhere and call his name, maybe, and from there take whatever chance offers.
“Hey,” Ginny whispered, poking him in the arm. “Don’t look like that. It’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah.” Harry tried to smile. “Because you said so, right?”
“Yes. Because I said so.” Ginny puffed out her chest and stuck her nose in the air, and Harry managed a real smile.
“Let’s do this,” he said, holding his hand down to Kreacher. “Everybody in.”
Ron steadied Hermione as she took Dobby’s hand. Ginny settled Gryffindor’s sword more firmly across her back, and Luna took the Cloak from Harry’s arm and draped it over him and Kreacher, then turned and knelt to grip Dobby’s shoulder.
“Best of luck,” said Lupin, one arm around Tonks and the other holding Teddy. “You know where to find us if you need anything.”
“And if you don’t, we might turn up anyway,” Tonks added.
Andromeda said nothing, but Harry saw her hand moving, and recognized a wandless charm of protection he’d seen her lay on Teddy a few times. A warm glow filled him, and stayed with him even through the sudden darkness of Apparition.
Whatever happened next, he wasn’t in this alone.
The DA had just left the Hog’s Head after dinner when a loud triple bang sounded from the far end of the bar. Aberforth Dumbledore pulled his wand, motioned the portrait figure of Ariana to stay out of the frame, and started towards the noise. “We’re closed,” he snapped at the shapeless mass in the darkness. “Unless you want rooms.”
“It’s not rooms we need,” said a girl’s voice, and one portion of the mass detached itself to come forward into the light. “It’s information.”
“About wha—” Aberforth stopped, looking the girl up and down. “You were out back of here, about a week and a half ago,” he said. “With a boy.”
“Oh, did you hear us?” The girl sighed. “I’d thought we were alone. But it doesn’t matter now.” She waved a hand at the blobby shapes behind her, now visibly three human forms. “We asked some house-elf friends to bring us to Hogwarts, but they couldn’t get us all the way into the castle, so they brought us here, and now they’ve gone again. I think that means you have a way in. Do you?”
“Depends.” Aberforth squinted at the figures. “Who’s with you?”
With a light swish of fabric, a fourth figure materialized. “If you’re looking for me, here I am,” said Harry Potter, stepping into the light behind the girl. “Can you?”
Aberforth crossed his arms, hiding his flash of pain. Your damn idealism again, Albus, living on after you, dragging these kids down with you... “And if I can?”
“If you can, then we need it,” Potter said. “We think we know how to get rid of... You-Know-Who. We could even do it tonight.”
“Nice work if you can get it.” Turning, Aberforth beckoned the kids to follow him with a peremptory hand. “Have a seat.”
And maybe I can convince you to save your own lives while there’s still time.
Neville wasn’t sure he believed his ears.
But considering the source, yes, I do.
“Say that one more time, and use little words,” he said. “You want me to...”
“Go behind Potter’s back and get us some help.” Draco wiggled his fingers suggestively. “He’s got his hero complex going full speed at this point. Doesn’t want anybody else to die, or even to be in danger, if he can help it. What he doesn’t get yet is that he can’t help it, not if he wants to win.”
“Why not?”
“You-Know-Who’s a very practical sort.” Grey eyes flicked up to the Slytherin banner and down again. “Which is another way of saying, a bloody coward. Why do you think he went after a baby, and then after a fourteen-year-old kid? He doesn’t want a fair fight. He wants Potter dead. And I don’t care how heroic Potter is, he can’t do anything wandless and tied up, which is the only way the Death Eaters are going to let him near their beloved Master.” The last two words contained enough sarcasm to flavor a small book. “Unless somebody forces the issue.”
“And to force the issue, we need enough people to fight the Death Eaters.” Neville nodded. “All right. If you can keep him busy, we can get the message out.”
“Not a problem.” Draco cracked his knuckles, grinning. “All I have to do is kiss Luna and we’re good for five minutes at least.”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get over that,” Neville muttered.
Draco waved an airy hand. “Just consider it a new facet of her flair for the unusual.”
“I was thinking more ‘unexplored tendencies towards masochism.’”
“Hey!”
“Ariana!” squealed Dennis Creevey from the other side of the room, bringing Neville’s and Draco’s heads around instantly. “Look, everyone, Ariana’s back! She wants somebody to come with her!”
“That’s it,” Draco murmured. “It’s time.” He held out his hand to Neville. “Good luck.”
“You too.” Neville shook it, taking one more second to marvel at the unlikeliness of this moment. “Have what you needed?”
“Right here.” A flap of black cloth was lifted to display a glimmer of silver. Neville caught a glimpse of what looked like a book behind it, and a wand handle next to it.
But he carries his wand in a different pocket, I saw him put it away...
Mentally shaking off the distraction, he nodded to Draco and crossed the room to the passage behind Ariana’s portrait. His hand closed around the DA Galleon in his pocket, his fingers tapping against it as he counted letters for the message he would so soon be sending.
Come to Hogwarts. Bring your wands. Harry’s back.
Draco slipped into a back corner, sliding his hand along the wall in a move he hoped looked casual enough to disguise that he was leaning on it for support. Now that the moment was almost here, his knees had begun to shake so hard he could barely stand up.
Calm, Malfoy. Breathe. Go over it again. He reviewed the steps of his plan, touching the items in his pocket as they came up. Show what I have, give my ultimatum, hand over one piece of collateral for goodwill...
A scrape of shoe against floor warned him just barely in time as a tentative voice said, “Draco?”
“Astoria,” he acknowledged, turning to look at the younger girl.
She flinched. “Don’t. Please. I hate that name.”
“Story, then.” Draco patted the wall, and two chairs bulged out of it and took on independent existence. “Sit down?”
“Thank you.” Story perched on the edge of her chair, watching him closely. “You’re going away.”
“Not right now, but yes, I am.”
“With Luna Lovegood.”
“That’s certainly the plan.” And with somebody else as well...
At the thought of that somebody else, Draco’s hand stole to the soul flask around his neck, and the realization of what he’d forgot to do shocked through him. Merlin’s bones, I never got this thing charged! I have to call Dobby—
“What’s wrong?” Story asked.
“Nothing. Just remembered a chore I’ve got to do. But it can wait.”
I hope.
Pulling the flask out of his robes, to be sure he would remember, Draco turned his attention back to his Housemate. “Something you wanted to say?”
“I—no.” Story turned away. “No. Nothing.”
“I swear I won’t laugh.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Draco put together what he knew about girls with the particular circumstance Story had mentioned and came up with a tentative conclusion. “You’ve been a good friend to me,” he said. “Thank you for that.”
“A good friend,” Story repeated dully. “Only a good friend.”
“There’s no ‘only’ about it. Friends are important. Doubly so in Slytherin, where you don’t get a lot of good ones.” Draco rubbed his forehead again, trying to decide whether or not he was imagining the jagged scar there. “Trust me. I know.”
“I wanted...” Her voice was barely audible. “More.”
“I know. And—” He stopped before he could utter the easy, conventional assurance. “No,” he said instead. “I don’t wish I could have given it to you, because it wouldn’t be right for either of us now. If things were different, if I didn’t have Luna and you didn’t have Pritchard—”
“What?” Story whipped around. “What does Graham have to do with anything?”
“You haven’t seen the way he looks at you?” Draco smiled, finding some reassurance in her shocked yet calculating expression. Ah, Slytherin girls. Pritchard, you poor sod, you don’t stand a chance, and I’m not a bit sorry for it.
“I thought it was just because I was Natalie’s friend.” Story’s eyes were distant, looking into memories and reviewing tones, glances, word choices. “I never thought...”
“It was taking everything Goyle could do to hold him back when I broke in yesterday, and considering the size difference, that’s saying something. Just don’t let him know you know, and you should be all right.”
She bestowed a withering look on him. “I’m not stupid.”
“Never said you were.” Draco stood up, his chair melting back into the wall. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you,” he said, holding out his hand. “If you want to do something to remember me by, try and haul our House’s reputation out of the gutter.”
“I’d do that in any case.” Story met his hand with her own. “Is there anything else?”
“There is. And it’s as much a present to you two as it will be to me.” Draco grinned. “Give your children normal names.”
Story laughed, and squeezed his hand once before letting it go. “I will. I promise.”
“Thank you, Miss Greengrass, you relieve my mind most heartily.” Draco gave her his most polished ballroom bow. “I wish you all the very best.”
“And I you, Mister Malfoy.” Story curtsied prettily, then glanced around. Before Draco realized what she was doing, she had gone on tiptoe and planted a kiss square on his mouth.
“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” she said, and took off running.
Well. Draco leaned back against the wall, rubbing a finger against his lips. Maybe I’m a bit sorry for Pritchard now.
But only a bit.
Across the room, Ariana’s portrait swung open.
“Where are we?” Hermione asked when the first frenzies of greeting were over, looking around in wonder.
“Room of Requirement!” Neville grinned at her. “Really gone beyond itself, hasn’t it? There’s even enough room for pick-up Quidditch if the players fly carefully, we use the bathroom and the entry door for goals, but enough about us, what about you? Where’ve you been? That bit about you on Potterwatch stopped before we got here—”
“As if you didn’t know why,” muttered a short, dark boy behind him whom Harry didn’t recognize. Neville’s shoulder was blocking his House crest, but that might change at any moment...
“What’s that doing here?” Ron asked loudly, pointing. Everyone turned to look.
There, undulating gently in the breeze produced by the movement below, hung the banners of the four Houses. Ron’s finger was aimed directly at the green and silver on the far right.
“It’s here because it deserves to be,” said a female voice, and the crowd of students parted to let through a blond girl with a determined look and a Slytherin patch over her heart. “You ought to know that, considering who you’re with.”
“Who I’m—” Ron turned to follow the girl’s look and caught sight of Luna. To Harry’s surprise, his friend colored up and muttered what sounded like an apology, to which Luna responded with a polite nod.
Never mind. Figure it out later. “We can’t stay long,” Harry said, getting everyone’s attention again. “We’re here to find something important, something that will help bring down You-Know-Who...”
He stopped, confused, as giggling and whispering broke out in several places near the back of the crowd. Was it something I said?
“Don’t bother telling them that,” drawled a familiar voice from his left. “I told them already.”
Ginny inhaled sharply, Hermione emitted a slight squeak, Ron hissed between his teeth, and Luna let out a soft hum of pleasure as the speaker stepped forward into the light.
In the last place on Earth Harry Potter would have expected him to be, Draco Malfoy stood at his ease, hands thrust into his pockets and an insouciant smile on his face.
Only one thought could make it through Harry’s frozen disbelief.
Somebody has a lot of explaining to do.
And I owe you, my dearest readers, a whole lot of apologies for an unexpected and rather painful writer’s block. But hey, I got through it, and I’m writing on my original novel again, so that’s all to the good, right? Encouragement much appreciated as always!