Be Careful
52: Whose Side You Believe
By Anne B. Walsh
Severus Snape stalked down the second-floor corridor of Malfoy Manor, channeling his fury.
I am the true culprit here. I should have realized that when the object of the boy's obsession became so temptingly available, he would take advantage of his momentary status among the Death Eaters to fulfill it. I should have been here to take charge of her myself. But I was not.
As a result, an innocent girl, one of the students I gave my word to safeguard, is at this very moment losing what she can never regain.
Still, I may be able to shame him out of repeat offenses. It is worth a try.
He stopped outside the door he knew was Draco's and knocked firmly.
There was no response.
Holding his temper firmly in check, he knocked again, a bit harder.
Once more, nothing changed.
Severus clenched his fists, listening to the soft buzzing of the blood racing through his ears—
Wait. That is not an effect of my anger, but of a spell.
A spell I know very well indeed.
But I had thought that the book in which I recorded my knowledge was in the hands of Harry Potter. How, then, has Draco Malfoy come to learn one of my spells?
He shook his head, dismissing the question. I can find out later. At the moment, what matters is that I invented the spell. I therefore know how to remove it.
And once it is gone, I shall be able to hear what is happening in that room, and stop it if it needs to be stopped.
As if there were any question about that.
Severus lifted his wand and aimed it at the door. Finite Muffliato, he thought clearly, then raised his voice. "Malfoy, I wish to speak to you."
"I'm busy right now, sir," drawled the boy's voice from within. "Come back later." His usual crisp diction was obscured as if by sleep.
Or by something else.
Severus felt his jaw muscles tighten. "You will open this door, boy," he said through his teeth, "or it will cease to exist. I give you thirty seconds to make yourself halfway presentable. Starting now."
"Yes, sir." The rolled eyes were audible, as was the emphasis on the honorific, thick enough to choke an Abraxan. "Coming right up, sir."
Twenty-nine seconds of rustling cloth and squeaking bedsprings later, Draco Malfoy opened his bedroom door. He wore a green plush dressing gown and a lazy smile. His cheeks were flushed as with exertion, and his hair was rumpled.
Neither of which he ever allows to happen in the usual way of things.
Severus glanced past the boy and snarled under his breath. Luna Lovegood lay facedown on the ruins of a neatly made twin bed, her robes and hair in wild disarray, her shoulders shaking and tiny whimpering sounds coming from her.
So this is the boy for whom you died, Dumbledore. No better than his father, and tempted by the same sorts of crimes, it seems…
"What is going on in here?" Severus demanded.
"In four words, sir," Draco said coldly, "none of your business."
"Both you and Miss Lovegood are my students, which makes it my business. Do you realize how serious a crime it is to become… familiar with a witch against her will? Particularly an underage witch?"
"I don't think she'll be back to school any time soon, sir." Draco smirked. "And she's not underage."
"Do not toy with me, Malfoy. Miss Lovegood is a sixth year, significantly junior to yourself."
"Her birthday was last week, sir." Draco turned to regard the girl on the bed with a possessive eye. "She told me so herself. Which means she's of age, and I have been since June. We're neither of us married yet, we're both pureblooded—I would have thought you'd be happy to see me doing my part. Starting my family a bit early, to help with the repopulation effort."
Severus counted to ten in Gobbledegook, reminding himself that the insolent brat before him was important to both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. Killing him would disappoint one and anger the other.
And though I care more about Dumbledore's disappointment, the Dark Lord's anger is frequently fatal.
"Do you truly think Miss Lovegood's father will appreciate a Death Eater son-in-law?" he asked when he could speak again without shouting.
"He's not going to get a choice in the matter, now is he? And we won't be visiting much in any case. I don't care for a crackpot publisher as a father-in-law." Draco ran his tongue around his lips as he watched Luna shivering on the bed. "Fortunately, for such a beautiful blossom, I can overlook a few nuts on the family tree. Besides, she might well be an orphan soon anyway, if he keeps up this nonsense about Potter. And then I can have her all to myself." The lazy smile had changed into a hungry one. "As often as I want."
There is nothing more I can do here. Not without openly dueling him over the girl. I have no doubt that I could beat him, but it would attract attention, and that I cannot afford.
I killed Albus Dumbledore with my own wand and survived it. I can survive walking away from Luna Lovegood, knowing what has been done to her and what will be done again.
But first I will tell this idiot child the truth, since no one else seems inclined to do so.
"You disgust me, boy," Severus hissed at Draco, who pulled back, startled and affronted. "Was it for this I sheltered you and performed your task for you? So that you could assault the very students Albus Dumbledore would have given his life to protect? He believed that you could change, that there might be some shred of good left in you. I look forward to telling him how mistaken he was."
Turning on his heel, he strode away, forcing himself not to turn back even as he heard a girl's frightened wail cut off by the sound of the closing door.
She is a casualty of the war. Just as we all are.
Draco stared at the door for a moment, trying to get his composure back, then whirled around as the high-pitched noise that so resembled a forlorn cry sounded again. "You," he said, pointing a finger at Luna. "Not. Helping."
Luna rolled over, revealing her face bright with merriment. "I couldn't stop it!" she managed to say between bouts of giggles. "He was so very angry at you, and you're not doing anything wrong at all!"
"Yes, but he can't know that." Draco pulled off his dressing gown to reveal his rather wrinkled Hogwarts uniform and climbed onto the bed beside Luna. "No one can know it, at least no one here. It seems strange, but it's safest for you if they all think I'm…"
"Enjoying me?" Luna suggested.
"Well, that I am doing. Just not quite the way they all think I am." Draco pulled Luna halfway onto his chest and began stroking her back, finding the places where a term filled with worry for her friends had knotted her muscles and massaging them loose again.
"I'm enjoying just having you here," he murmured against her ear. "Finding out there's someone in the world who believes me is worth a lot. Finding out it's you… I'm going to have to double-check my horoscope, to make sure I haven't used up all my life's luck today."
"Don't worry," Luna answered dreamily, stroking his hair. "If you run out of luck, I can give you more." Her lips fastened around his and made talking impossible for a few moments.
"That's nice," Draco said when he could speak again, "but what does it have to do with luck?"
Luna giggled. "Silly Draco. That's how you transfer luck from one person to another. I thought everyone knew that."
"Are you sure you don't need it for yourself, then?"
Luna regarded him for a long moment. "I get to mess up your hair and you don't hex me for it," she said finally. "I think I have enough luck to be going on with."
Draco remembered to reset the Muffliato just in time.
A familiar voice from across the hall brought Narcissa hurrying into the drawing room. "Severus? What are you doing here? Is Draco all right?"
"Draco is unharmed, and has been home for nearly an hour," Severus said, looking up from his conversation with Lucius. "Have you not seen him?"
"No, I had not."
"As I thought. He was likely too busy to inform you he had arrived."
Narcissa frowned. There was a particular bitter edge to Severus’ tone that she seldom heard. "What is keeping him occupied?"
"The permanent houseguest you have acquired, about whom I was just informing Lucius."
"What houseguest is this? You know we can no longer keep prisoners here…"
"In the cellars," Lucius corrected, smiling broadly. "As Draco himself brought up, his bedroom is rather better protected than the cellars were—and with what Severus has been telling me he witnessed a few moments ago, I doubt the Lovegood girl is in any condition to attempt an escape." He smirked. "It seems Draco takes after me in more ways than his appearance. I must remember to congratulate him on his first conquest…"
Severus nodded curtly and hurried from the room. Narcissa shut her eyes, swallowing against painful thoughts.
We must survive as a family if we are to survive at all, she reminded herself. And despite what they may do in other places and with other women, they are my husband and my son, and I care for them as they care for me.
But deep within the heart of Narcissa Malfoy, the romantic girl who had once been Narcissa Black silently wept for the death of yet another dream.
"So, what shall we talk about until bedtime?" Draco asked, scraping his plate clean of the last remnants of apple tart. "Did you want me to go over everyone you'll be meeting? There are a lot of them, even if it will probably just be the Beauvois and Mum to start with."
"No, I think I'll manage all right." Luna dribbled melted ice cream around her bowl, creating abstract designs with the drops and splatters. "I was hoping to talk about Christmas presents."
"Finally!" Draco raised his arms to the heavens in thanksgiving. "A girl who's honestly mercenary and doesn't pull out the ‘Oh you don't have to get me anything’ line!"
"I meant presents we should get for other people," Luna said, swirling her spoon through the patterns.
Draco deflated. "Oh."
"They're nothing you don't already have. Didn't you make a whole cauldronful of the potion I helped you figure out that you should use on Ron?"
"Yeah, I did—it's easiest to brew in large quantities, and it stores pretty well forever as long as you haven't added the bits of person yet…" Draco trailed off. "Hold the Floo. You helped me figure out? You weren't there!"
Luna looked up at him through her eyelashes.
"Well, you were there," Draco conceded. "But you were in the Forest. Asleep." He was starting to get the feeling that being alone with Luna meant being outnumbered. "Weren't you?"
"My body was," Luna said, setting her bowl aside on the tray Draco had put together for them in the kitchens. "But I wasn't using it right then. The other me was. And she was letting me use hers."
"So," Draco said slowly. "When we went off to the practice room to sing… we really went off to the practice room to sing. Didn't we?"
Luna nodded. "You do sing very well for never having lessons," she said. "Maybe we could go Snorkack-hunting sometime, and you could hum to call them."
"Maybe." Draco was still trying to piece together what he'd just learned. "So that day I accidentally brought you along, the other Luna must have reached out and swapped with you… no wonder you don't want to go over who everyone is. You spent a whole day there already, you know them all."
"I'll still need your help to keep them straight. But we need to keep talking about Polyjuice Potion. I think that would make a very good Christmas present for Hermione. Our Hermione, the one who's away with Harry right now. She's probably getting low, because she can't brew it in a tent. And I think Harry would like something shiny, to help keep his spirits up, and Ron should have something dangerous, because he was so brave to help Mr. Ollivander escape like that." Luna beamed, obviously proud of herself for having thought of such good criteria for gift-giving.
"Er, Luna, I hate to point this out, but these are your friends. Not mine." Draco set his plate on the tray as well, and levitated it to his desk absently, tucking his wand away again without thinking about what he was doing. "They don't like me—Weasley's got reason to hate me by now—and they're definitely not expecting a Christmas package from me."
"That's why I'll address the parcels," Luna said. "They'll know my writing, or at least know that it's someone they trust. And I'll need to write a letter to them as well, and one for them to give to Daddy—I won't mention you, or not in any way that would tell them who you are, but they should know I'm safe. So should Neville and Ginny, really. May I borrow your wand?"
Draco thought about it, then thought about it again, then a third time, and finally drew his wand and handed it over.
Cue bloody screaming conniption fits from half my teachers and all my relatives.
Luna pulled a coin from her pocket and touched the wand's tip to it. "The famous DA Galleon, I presume?" Draco asked dryly, and got a giggle. "How long a message can you send at once?"
"Fifty letters or numbers, including spaces. It can be tricky to say all you want in that short a space, but we've got rather good at it. There." Luna gave Draco the Galleon, and he spun it around between his fingers to read the message.
With new friend and safe Happy Christmas from Luna
"That does seem to say it all," he agreed, passing the Galleon back. "But I had a couple other questions about these presents you want to give. The Polyjuice I do have, but ‘something shiny’ and ‘something dangerous’? That covers a lot of territory. Besides, Weasley's not even with them at the moment. And how are we going to get the presents to them without them spotting us and attacking—well, attacking me? You they'd probably try and rescue from my evil clutches."
"I don't know the answers to those questions." Luna put the Galleon back in her pocket and returned Draco's wand. "But I know who does. And I know how to find them. Is it bedtime yet?"
"If you say it's bedtime, then it's bedtime," Draco said, executing a sitting bow. "You're in charge here, you know."
"I know." Luna smiled at him. "I knew all along."
"I thought you probably did," Draco muttered. "All right, let's get the bed cleared off. Next stop, Fidelus Manor."