"There's something weird going on with him," I begin, ignoring the sequence of dubious looks Ron throws my way.
"You've been worrying about Malfoy and awful lot, Harry," Hermione remarks. Which is true - the expression on his face as he left Borgin and Burke's has invaded my thoughts night and day. But I'm definitely not worried about him. More like what he's up to.
"A satisfied Malfoy is never a good thing," I tell her. "We need to find out what he's doing."
Exasperated, Ron and Hermione remind me of what they said when I first told them I had followed him. That there's nothing we can do now, but when we get back to school they'll help me keep and extra eye out, if it so makes me feel better. It does, but only marginally, so I have already asked Mr. Weasley to pay a visit to Malfoy Manor and look for anything suspicious. Thankfully, we catch the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, so I'll soon have Malfoy under proper watch.
* * * * * * *
Sliding into an empty compartment, I feel exhausted after having just had to fight my way through hoards of people on the platform, all of whom were intent at staring unabashedly at me and audibly gossiping about what they think happened at the Ministry. When the others arrived the same thing happened to them, but whereas Ron and Hermione escaped to the prefect carriage, and Ginny can siphon support off of the link between her own hand and Dean's, I have no one. No one but Neville and Luna, who have just sat down beside me, and they seem to be enjoying the attention. They're lucky to have not had to deal with it since the age of eleven.
Glancing at Neville now, I wonder how our roles would have been different had Voldemort chosen to try murder him instead. Would Neville have been the one with so much responsibility in his future? Would I be able to hide in my ordinance, possibly accept an attraction to my own gender without the fear of public ridicule? Not that I hold that attraction, but if I did...
"Would you like to share what's on your mind, Harry?" Luna asks, as always more aware than anyone else in the room. "It seems to be troubling you."
I consider her question. Would it hurt to maybe bring them into my confusion? Not all of it, obviously, but of all the people I can trust they might be the best to open up to about the thing I would have told Sirius. For they've both been mocked at school and might know how I can cope. But can I trust them like Sirius?
Ignoring the sharp pang of loss in my chest as I think about my godfather, I turn to directly face Luna, and open my mouth to speak. "Umm, yeah, actually. Er, well, I think I might be... You see, I've been starting to feel-"
"Harry!" A bold-looking fourth year girl barges into our compartment. "I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane. Professor Slughorn asked me to deliver this to you." She hands me a scroll of parchment, brushing my fingers lightly as she does so. She locks her eyes onto mine and says confidently; "You can join me in our compartment if you'd prefer." Her voice deepens with every word, clearly flirting, but it's all too easy to say no.
I decline politely, half-hoping I'll regret it afterwards and know for sure the way my feelings are lying, but I don't, so I unravel the scroll instead. It's an invitation to join Slughorn and a select few students for lunch. I wish I could refuse it, but I feel obliged to attend, so I gather up my things and say goodbye to Luna as I leave. Neville received one too, so we walk together down the train passageway.
As we pass through the Slytherin carriage, I notice Malfoy sitting along in the corner, peculiarly neglecting his prefect duties. It's not like Malfoy to miss the chance to bully first years. He's so absorbed by his own thoughts that he doesn't even realise our presence until the others in the carriage jeer and taunt us loudly. Immediately, his face snaps into a well-practiced smirk, and he flips us the finger. It's not up to his usual standard of insults, so I narrow my eyes suspiciously, and spend the whole of Slughorn's lunch thinking of his odd behaviour.
A few hours later, when Slughorn allows us to leave, I manage to trail after one of the other Slytherin students and hide under my invisibility cloak in their carriage. Contrary to earlier, Malfoy is no longer sitting alone, but rather lying across Pansy Parkinson's lap, absent-mindedly stroking his left forearm. Each time Pansy ruffles his hair he gives an involuntary shudder, evidently not enjoying himself as much as he pretends. I settle myself slightly away from them, where no one will accidentally sit on me, and lean forwards, eager to listen to their conversation.
It's not long before I get lucky. The boy I followed into here mentions Death Eaters, and the group casually throws the topic around until it reaches Malfoy's parents. Malfoy merely looks contemptuously at them before hinting that he himself has a deep connection to Voldemort.
"Let's just say I'm moving on to bigger and better things," he gloats, laughing at his friends' dumbfounded faces, but I see his grip tighten over his left forearm and slowly comprehend what he means. Malfoy is a Death Eater. He's been branded with the Dark Mark.
Soon the train pulls into Hogsmeade, but my mind is still reeling from the news. As a result, I don't move out of the way in time when Malfoy, the last one to leave, walks unwittingly into me. His cool arm bumps against my invisible one, and I see goosebumps crawl up the pale flesh of his skin. I gasp as we both shiver, and his hand reaches forward and tugs off my invisibility cloak. I watch his eyes widen as he spits at me.
"Pathetic, Potter, spying on us now? I'll have to warn everyone that you're going for the Slytherin girls now. Wouldn't want them to be caught unaware."
I force myself to stay calm, to not blurt out that know his secret. "Cool it Malfoy, I wouldn't be interested in your precious girlfriend if she were the last female of any species on Earth."
I've touched a nerve, and before I have time to react I'm hit with a spell.
"Petrificus Totalus!" He yells, stomping his boots down hard on my face as I fall. "Call her my girlfriend again and I'll do much worse than this." He turns and walks smoothly out the door, dragging my invisibility cloak behind him and high-fiving someone outside. I see their face as they congratulate Malfoy. Goyle was watching.
As I lie there, blood seeping from my broken nose, I see the glint of a wand light through the train window, but the person casting the magic is hidden. Whoever they are, they both unfreeze me and fix my nose. I owe them much gratitude.
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The Pure Blood's Task
DiversosA Drarry fanfic, set in their sixth year. Harry is struggling to come to terms with his new found sexuality, and the chance to come out to his best friends is never arising. He confides to an unlikely alliance, Draco Malfoy, and the two help each o...