Chapter 28: Gold as a Galleon

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It was a time for the spreading of news. Over Easter, Dobby and Winky had smuggled fifty thousand re-information leaflets home with Hogwarts students, divided between a hundred thick hard-cover books. By early May, the Order could see the effects across the nation, with new sympathiser groups grating against the Death Eaters' regime in every major city.

This was reason to hope—but it was also a more volatile state of affairs. Nearly every day they received reports of those brutalised or murdered for their resistance, and to worsen matters, the Daily Prophet had reported that Pius Thicknesse had taken a leave of absence due to a nervous complaint. There was no question among the Order as to what this meant for Thicknesse himself.

The Order and their allies began to brace for Voldemort's return, and for the stand they would need to make when he stepped, at last, into the spotlight.

News was spreading within headquarters, too, though of a very different sort. They had to clutch to lightness wherever they could find it to make the days bearable. Soon every member of the Order knew about the undefined something between Ron and Pansy, which caused a storm of Weasley-twin teasing that Draco didn't envy. It was also now common knowledge that Draco and Hermione were boyfriend and girlfriend.

Draco allowed himself to revel in it, this one bright thing in a sea of danger. It was almost stupid how smug it made him feel, the simple act of sliding into a seat beside Hermione, brushing her hand with his, and seeing the pleased smile upon her face. Every time she looked at him he felt like a cat basking in sunlight.

"You two are revolting," Ginny had commented one afternoon, looking almost impressed.

Of course, the breaking of the news had other implications. It was a week into May before Draco mustered the resolve to feed his parents the cover story they'd designed.

"I won't be there," Hermione reminded him. "Whatever they say, it can't hurt me."

"I know."

"Just recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood in your mind if you want to block it out."

Draco's mouth twitched in a smile. "We learned those in first year, Granger. Give me more of a challenge than that."

They'd joked about distractions a while longer, but nothing eased Draco's nerves. It was with trepidation that he returned to his parents' tent that night, and his pulse tapped apace as they sat reading throughout the evening.

Finally, when it became clear that no opening into the subject would arise, Draco closed his book and spoke.

"I forgot to mention. There's something you two should know." He hoped he sounded casual, but his throat felt thin, as though he were forcing the words through the hollow in a reed.

"Oh?" said his mother without looking up from The Practical Potioneer's Guide to Ingredient Harvesting.

"I'm pretending to be involved with that Granger girl. They'll never expect that I'd do something like that to get information."

His parents' heads lifted as one. Draco braced himself for revulsion, for outraged panic.

He received ringing silence instead. His father's mouth was ajar.

Draco sighed, feigning impatience. "I know, I know. But I'm telling you, it's a good plan. What better way is there to get in with the Order's inner circle?"

Lucius reanimated with a slow nod. "True... yes, there would be few more certain paths to gain their trust." He swirled his Firewhisky, looking disturbed. "I will admit that even the idea of... but no matter. The circumstances are extraordinary."

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