The Serpent that Devours Us

Chapter 10

Harry kneeled in front of his fireplace, threw in a handful of floo powder and called out, “Blackcurrant Cottage.”

Draco and his wife Astoria lived in a ‘cottage’ on the Malfoy ancestral grounds. It was a house that dwarfed most other wizarding dwellings, with seven bedrooms, four reception rooms and a large conservatory, but to the Malfoys it was a teeny, tiny cottage, at least compared to their main mansion. Draco had certainly whined about it often enough when he first moved in there after he married Astoria, how he suddenly had to make do with no space at all. It was Astoria who had insisted upon separate living quarters when she married him, to wean Draco off his parents’ direct influence and whenever Draco started complaining she merely gave him an incredibly fond yet exasperated smile.

A house-elf answered the floo call and Harry requested to speak to the master of the house. Draco appeared a mere minute later, which was a first because usually he made any floo-callers wait for at least ten minutes before showing up to take the call. Harry had once waited for twenty minutes before severing the call in frustration and simply apparating to Draco’s cottage to talk to him.

“Harry!” Draco panted, as though he’d ran all the way to the fireplace. “Harry! I’ve been trying to contact you for days and days.”

“I was abroad,” Harry said in a vaguely amused tone at seeing Draco so flustered. His perfectly styled hair even had a few strands escaping from its usual stranglehold.

“Yes, yes.” Draco waved Harry’s comments away. “Blaise told me eventually. Listen, I need your help. An Augurey has taken up residence in the woodland behind the cottage and it keeps wailing and wailing since it’s been a very wet spring. Astoria keeps bursting into tears throughout the day. She’s very sensitive to their cries. It’s been a depressing week to be honest.”

As if on cue, a mournful wailing could be heard in the background.

Draco glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, we know it’s going to rain, you bloody bird. Shut up already!”

Harry had a fist pressed to his lips to keep from bursting out in laughter. “I’ll come get him,” he easily agreed. “But I need a favour in return.”

“Sure, what do you need?” Draco said without hesitation. He was a Slytherin after all, well accustomed to trading favours.

Harry hesitated. Floo connections weren’t always secure. “Make some room and I’ll step through right away.” Harry summoned his backpack with a simple gesture of his hand and walked through the green flames into the entrance hall of Blackcurrant Cottage.

“What I want in return is very sensitive in nature and requires the utmost discretion,” Harry whispered, leaning a little closer to Draco.

At once, Draco perked up, eyes growing wide while he gave Harry an expectant look. During his sixth year, when Harry had slowly started to socialize with the Slytherins, Harry had quickly discovered that Draco Malfoy was the absolute gossip king of Hogwarts. The boy thrived on learning everything and anything he could about every single person in the whole world. So Harry knew exactly what he was doing by emphasizing the importance of what he was about to say.

“Your father has an old, muggle diary in his possession,” Harry whispered right into Draco’s ear. “It was given to Abraxas by an old schoolmate named Tom Riddle. I need that diary, Draco.”