Be Careful
97: Whose Favor You Win
By Anne B. Walsh
The places a mind would go when it had nothing to occupy its time were very strange ones, Draco thought. His had come up with the fact that lists of famous last words were generally incomplete, in that few to none of them included the word "Ouch." He considered fixing this, but decided eventually that it was too much trouble to wake up just to say a word.
Besides, Mum wouldn’t see the humor in it. Nor would Abby. Ray and the others... maybe. Depends on how fixated they are on my living to be their hero.
The thought of living, of his friends and family, set up a wave of desire that seemed stronger than it should be. He’d resigned himself to death, hadn’t he? Left it all behind, made up his mind to see if the stories he’d come to believe were true?
He had, but... something, something he couldn’t quite remember, had blocked him, stopped him from following through on his resolve. He knew he hadn’t expected it, and knew also that he should have. Expected it, that was. But expected or not, remembered or not, it had turned him around and sent him back to the land of the living.
Thus, his need to wake up and say a particular word.
"Ouch."
"He phoned home!" Whispers were anonymous, sexless, ageless, but the excitement bubbling off this one identified it for Draco anyway. Abigail Beauvoi was the only person he’d ever met who could shriek under her breath.
"Next time you won’t doubt me, will you, love?" These words were spoken softly but in a real tone of voice, caressing and chiding all at once, a trick only mothers could do. "Go and see what your mother and father are doing, and tell them the good news."
"Yes, Aunt Cecy!" A brush of lips against Draco’s cheekbone, and the light patter of feet moving rapidly away.
"She hasn’t left your side since she and John Black found you here last night," his mum went on, seating herself. "As I understand it, he felt your need for healing from the Gryffindor common room, and she was able to use that as a focal point to See you here, since his control of his power is not yet fine enough to locate a person as far away as you were. Once they had found you, they roused half the castle, though I use the term advisedly, since most of us had not yet gone to bed. There were simply too many preparations to make."
Draco made an interrogative noise, hoping it would serve as the questions he wasn’t sure his voice was up to asking yet.
"They are coming, my love." Mum’s hand curled around his, her skin cool and soft to the touch. "The dementors have decided this is their time, and are gathering en masse around Hogwarts’ wards, sapping them at every point. Even with as many of us as are present here, we cannot hope to hold for much longer than one full day."
And I’m flat on my back. Can we say timing? Draco groaned, surprising himself with the strength of his reaction. Harry’s on his way back in one world, the dementors are trying to finish the job in the other, and I can’t bloody well move! Way to be a hero, Malfoy!
Mum shifted her grasp until her fingertips touched his wrist and her palm pressed against his. "You will forgive my not asking permission," she murmured. "There is not time for an argument."
Draco was about to ask what he was supposed to be arguing about when he felt the tickling sensation begin. His hand, his arm, the entire right side of his body tingled, they itched, like having a foot wake up after it had gone to sleep, only worse, and now it was spreading to his left side as well, making him shiver all over as though he had a fever.
It’s like being hit by a spell. Like an Ennervate spell. She must be—
His eyes flew open. He was still in the Room of Requirement, in a proper bed it must have created for him, and his mum sat beside him in a cushioned armchair, her face serene except for the slight crease of effort between her brows. "Almost finished," she said without opening her own eyes. "Stay still."
"Not if you’re going to do what I think you are." Draco made to swing his legs out of the bed, but a sharper than usual tingle held them where they were. "Mum!"
"I will be as safe here as anywhere, unless both wards and Patronuses fail." Her voice was as calm as though she were not discussing the possible loss of her soul to darkness. "You are the indispensable person today, my love, not I. If you require all my strength to finish your tasks properly, then all my strength you shall have." A smile touched her lips. "Except that which I need to survive, of course. I hardly desire to die, not with the three great ambitions of my life so close to fulfillment."
"Three?" Stay still apparently didn’t cover testing his range of motion, as long as he didn’t try to stand up. "Do I count?"
"You do. As does the destruction, or at least the hindrance, of the dementors. The third..." Her smile widened. "Who should know better than the one who plans to gratify it?"
"Yeah, there’s something a little weird about matchmaking for my own mum." Everything worked again, as far as he could tell lying in bed. It was especially nice to breathe freely again. Also, his forehead no longer hurt, which was a relief. He had a distinct recollection of a lull in the beating associated with a sharp pain there, followed by several seconds of shocked whispering.
That may actually have been when the DA showed up. I don’t remember anything else painful happening after it, except for being lifted up and carried.
"Parents and children must work these things out among themselves." Mum’s voice was fainter, though she sounded only tired, not hurt. "You made your decision with little to no help from me, so it seems natural that you should help me to accomplish my goal. Such as it is." With a sigh, she released his hand. "If he does not care as much for the woman as he did for the dream..."
"I don’t think you need to worry about that." Draco pushed himself carefully upright, bracing against the momentary dizziness, then set his feet on the floor and stood up. "He looked three parts shocked and one part hopeful when he heard what my wand wood was, and the hope’s been overtaking the shock ever since."
"I like the way that sounds." She smiled up at him, her eyes drifting open enough to focus on his face for a few moments. "Go well, my son. Remember what you fight for."
"I will." He bent and kissed her forehead, feeling a slight electric spark jump between them as his lips touched her. She laughed once and drew the protective sign on the back of his right hand with a forefinger, then leaned her head against one of the wings of the chair and was still.
The door crashed open, and Abby charged in. Draco braced his legs against the bed and opened his arms. She rammed him with less force than he’d expected, probably deferring to the state he’d been in when she’d left, but still transmitted enough of a wallop to make him grunt. "It’s going to be okay," he told her, unearthing one arm from the hug long enough to stroke her wild hair. "I promise."
"Mother says don’t make promises you can’t keep," Abby mumbled into his chest.
"I plan on keeping this one." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Just you wait and see."
"Speaking of seeing," said Moony, coming in with Danger behind him. "I would suggest you not come out quite yet, Draco. Minerva’s on the warpath regarding an incident involving all of Abigail’s year and the filthiest song in the English language..."
"What?"
Abby lifted her head to give him a look radiating innocence. "You said I could Look at the party Luna and her friends had in your world," she said sweetly. "The songs were funny. Do you know them too, Father?"
"I would imagine I know a few more, having been associated with James and Sirius for longer. And yes, I would have taught them to you," Moony added before Abby could ask. "At the proper time."
"Which twelve years old is not," Danger said, shaking her head. "Still, there’s no way to get the potion back in the bottle. But was it really necessary to teach them to everyone you know, Abigail?"
"I didn’t want to be selfish."
Draco sat down on the bed, bringing Abby with him. "Remind me why I want to stay here again?" he said.
"Because we love you and want you to stay?" Danger suggested, joining them and putting her arm around them both.
"Will your love include protecting me from an angry Head of House?"
"If you’re sufficiently brave over the next two days, she’ll probably forget she was angry in favor of saying you should have been a Gryffindor," Moony pointed out.
"True."
"And if you’re not, it won’t matter anyway," said Danger lightly. "Because none of us will be in a position to be angry about anything."
"Thank you for reminding me."
Danger squeezed his shoulders with her arm. "Things you can laugh at are less frightening, Draco, and you know it. No one can ever be completely ready for anything, but you have both the knowledge and the abilities you need. All you have to do now is use them."
"Recipe for erumpent soup," Draco muttered. "Step one, catch the erumpent."
"Step one, check your supplies," corrected Moony. "Which you should do now, and we can help if you don’t mind..."
Checking both his supplies and his plans took an hour, and a meal shared with those of the Beauvois and his friends who could be spared from the preparations for the castle’s defense took another. When the last toast—"Confusion to darkness; the light forever!"—had been drunk, Draco said his goodbyes, exchanging hugs with girls and handshakes and backslaps with boys. Abby waited until both her mother and father had hugged Draco and marked the sign of protection on his forehead before planting herself in front of him, arms crossed.
"You promised," she said firmly. "Remember you promised."
"I’ll remember." Draco pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, gave it to her, and turned away, as much to hide his grin at the tremendous amount of noise her tiny nose could make as to give her the illusion of privacy. "No, keep it," he said hastily as she made to return it. "Call it my favor."
Abby stuck out her tongue at him. "I’m supposed to give that to you, silly."
"Well?" Draco extended a hand. "Hurry up, wench. I haven’t got all day."
Frowning, Abby patted her pockets. Then her face cleared, and she drew her wand and pulled a hank of hair over her shoulder. One snip later, she laid a brown curl in his palm. "Now I’ll always be able to See you," she said, beaming. "No matter how many worlds or how many Dracos there are, there’s only one who has a piece of me with him."
"Minx," said Draco without heat. "Let me borrow that?" He nodded towards her wand, and she held out the grip to him. Sliding the hair into his other hand, he took the wand and conjured a little red and silver bag for it on the string he was already wearing around his neck. He would hang the soul flask from it as soon as everyone else had left (it would have seriously interfered with the sort of hugs his female friends tended to give). "There," he said, dropping the hair into its new home and returning the wand to its owner. "My lady’s colors, even."
"Am I really your lady?" Abby asked, in tones of curiosity rather than intrigue or heartbreak. "I thought it was Luna."
"You’re my sister-lady." Draco tickled the side of her neck, making her squeak. "Don’t let Dragon get into too much trouble while I’m gone, now."
Abby snorted. "Do you want me to make fire stop burning things too?"
"No, that’s Harry’s game, isn’t it?" Draco dodged a sisterly kick to the shin. "Hey, hey, I’ve just been Healed, you know."
"Good! That means you’re ready to get hurt again!" But the scowl could not hold its shape long on Abby’s face, and after only a moment she flung herself at him. "Oh, Draco," she whispered into his ear. "Be careful!"
"I will." Draco took a second to memorize the warmth and softness in his arms. He was going to have need of all the happy memories he could get. "Now you go help where you can, and I’ll see you soon."
Reluctantly, Abby let him go. "You promised," she repeated.
"I promised." Draco clasped her hand, then pointed to the door. Abby nodded, gulped once, and ran from the room.
With a sigh, Draco sank back onto the bed, pulling the soul flask from his pocket to slide it into its loop on the string around his neck. Two worlds on the brink of disaster, my own personal future and countless others in the balance—it’s stupid to think it makes any difference that I promised a little girl it would be all right.
But beyond a doubt, it did.
If it’s stupid and it works, it isn’t stupid. And you’re wasting time, Malfoy. Get going.
He reached for the small flask of potion Neenie had brought him; it had once been Dreamless Sleep, but she had reversed both aspects of it so as to bring on dreams without sleep. Raising it high, he toasted the empty Room, then drank it down.
A moment later, he was gone.
Author Notes:
Yes, I’m back. Again. Blame a week of being sick and two weeks of "OMG new job" if you like. New job commences on Monday and will, I hope, be less stressful than old job, leaving more time to relax and do enjoyable things like writing. Stay tuned for further updates...