Voices (HP Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Slug Club

"Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead." ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Chapter 7: Slug Club

Penelope's POV:

Harry spent a lot of the last week of the holidays pondering the meaning of Malfoy's behavior in Knockturn Alley. What disturbed him most was the satisfied look on Malfoy's face as he had left the shop. Nothing that made Malfoy look that happy could be good news. To his slight annoyance, however, neither Ron nor Hermione seemed quite as curious about Malfoy's activities as he was; or at least, they seemed to get bored of discussing it after a few days. I was getting rather annoyed at him.

"Harry just let it go." I hissed. "It does not concern you."

"Just tell me is he a Death Eater?" Harry asked.

"I can not tell you that, even if I wanted to." I sighed.

"Yes, I've already agreed it was fishy, Harry," Hermione said a little impatiently. She was sitting on the windowsill in Fred and George's room with her feet up on one of the cardboard boxes and had only grudgingly looked up from her new copy of Advanced Rune Translation. "But haven't we agreed there could be a lot of explanations?"

"Exactly." I added. "He may not even be a Death Eater, yes both his parents are but not all children follow in their parents footsteps."

"You certainly didn't." Harry said.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I hissed. "Yes I did become a Death Eater and I am sure mum and dad are just rolling in their graves at the thought. But I didn't do it because I wanted to, Harry."

"Go on." Harry said crossing his arms over his chest.

Third Person POV:

"Maybe he's broken his Hand of Glory," Ron said vaguely, as he was one trying to change the subject. And two as he attempted to straighten his broomstick's bent tail twigs. "Remember that shriveled-up arm Malfoy had?"

"But what about when he said, 'Don't forget to keep that one safe'?" asked Harry for the umpteenth time. "That sounded to me like Borgin's got another one of the broken objects, and Malfoy wants both."

"You reckon?" Ron said, now trying to scrape some dirt off his broom handle.

"Yeah, I do," Harry said.

When neither Ron, Penelope, nor Hermione answered, he said, "Malfoy's father's in Azkaban. Don't you think Malfoy'd like revenge?"

Ron looked up, blinking. "Malfoy, revenge? What can he do about it?"

"That's my point, I don't know!" Harry said, frustrated. "But he's up to something and I think we should take it seriously. His father's a Death Eater and —"

Harry broke off, his eyes fixed on the window behind Hermione, his mouth open. A startling thought had just occurred to him.

"Harry?" Hermione said in an anxious voice. "What's wrong?"

"Your scar's not hurting again, is it?" Ron asked nervously.

"He's a Death Eater," Harry said slowly. "He's replaced his father as a Death Eater!"

There was a silence; then Ron erupted in laughter. "Malfoy? He's sixteen, Harry! You think You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join?"