chapter fifthteen

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"I feel naked without my wand," Ginny groaned to Ron, who nodded in agreement. They, along with Hermione, Neville, and Luna, were sitting scattered about in the Room of Requirement. They all had their wands taken away by the Headmaster, who assured them it was only temporary, until the imposter among them was caught.

The Headmaster had been skeptical toward Draco and Harry at first- but they said they could prove that one of the five was not who they seemed and had cursed Harry, she agreed. Now, they were to wait in the Room of Requirement.

"Sooner or later," Harry had said, "they will need more Polyjuice."

They had nothing to do but wait.

"Who do you think it is, 'Mione?" Ron questioned. She looked around the room, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I still hold my theory on Ginny close to my heart," she answered after a moment. "Though, I am quite disappointed our list of Death-Eater children turned out to go nowhere."

"I really don't think it's my sister," Ron protested.

"Well, if Harry's right, then she's not your sister, right? Just some person pretending to be her," Hermione said. Harry and Draco had told the Headmaster about Jackson Smith, how he had cursed Harry and pretended to be someone, (Harry did not explain how Pristina was sharing his head and that was how he knew all this- it just seemed too much work) but they had not told the suspects in the Room, so Hermione had to be careful about revealing how much she knew.

She was not worried. She saw the tension between Harry and Draco- could see how their magic intertwined and danced- and knew it would not be long now until Harry's memories were locked away for good. She suspected (hoped, really) it would happen before the Polyjuice potion wore off.

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on sending her magic out in waves, her power wandless magic as strong as her normal kind. She grasped on the auras of Draco and Harry, pulling them toward each other and toward her.

You're in danger, you could die, you need to come see us, you're in danger, you could die, but you have to come visit us, you want to see the suspects, you're worried about the innocents being kept with the imposter, you could die, you could die, isn't there something you want to get off your chest? Her magic blasted, every second it lasted fatiguing her from it's raw power.

She sent the magic out to Harry and Draco, so she did not expect the other occupants of the room to react. She was mildly surprised when Luna's head shot up, anxiety evident in her eyes, scanning everyone in the room, as if trying to find out where the magic came from.

How very intresting, Hermione bristled. She would have all the time in the world to look into later, but only if her plan worked. She closed her eyes again, sending out the message again, her magic slipping out the room and down the corridor.

□■□

Harry leaned against the infirmary bed, Draco by his side. "I'm so worried," he admitted quietly, "What if Jackson hurts them?" Harry had no real attachment to Ginny or Neville- Hermione, Ron and Luna were trustworthy, he had deemed- but he didn't want anyone getting hurt, no matter if they were or were not friends

(The four parchment papers sat, almost completely forgotten, in Harry's pocket. Draco asked if Harry wanted to watch he and Dumbledore's talks now that the suspects were not a threat and they hand loads of free time.

"No," Harry had replied, "Because if things go right, I won't need a pensive to remember. They'll be able to get the cure from Jackson himself and I'll have my memories back."

Draco had also asked if he wanted to open the student attendee file, but Harry said, "Well, what's the point? It's already blazingly obvious Jackson had been here." And so, the file remained untouched.

What they missed from this mightve changed nothing or everything; who's to say?

At the end of each record, there is a list of people who have changed their name years later, orginally incorporated for trans students.

Jackson's name had been listed there. It read:

FORMERLY, JACKSON SMITH, NOW: TOM RIDDLE.)

Harry expected Draco to not sympathize with the feelings- he hadn't ever been a fan of any of them- but, to his surprise, Draco muttered, "I'm anxious, too. But it's not like he can do anything to them, right? None of them have a wand."

Harry hummed, considering that, and nuzzled further into Draco's side, trying to relax. He found himself unable to sit still. He sighed, sitting up. "I want to go visit them," he said. "I'm too restless."

Draco sat up, too. "Same here," he said. Though the words seemed to confuse even himself, he did not question it.

They both got up off the bed, walking hand in hand to the Room of Requirement, which was being guarded by Hagrid, if Harry remembered his name correctly. The friendly half-giant stood, wand in hand, smiling to Harry and Draco as they approached. "'M not 'upposed to let ya in," he said sadly.  Only whatever teacher was on watch was allowed in the Room, where they checked in twice an hour to see if anything had changed with the occupants in the Room.

"Please," Harry pleaded, "They don't even have wands. We do. We'll be okay. I- we just want to check up on everyone." Draco, wisely, stayed silent.

Hagrid grunted, "Ye always 'ave been sentimental," he drawled, "I 'uppose I can let ye visit 'em, but I 'ill be 'upervisin."

"Of course," Harry said. Suddenly, fear struck through him.

   YOU COULD DIE
YOU HAVE TO GO IN THERE
IT IS
D
A
  N
   G
    E
     R
      O
       U
        S
   YOU COULD DIE BUT YOU HAVE TO
G
      O

Harry smiled tightly at Hagrid. "I'm going to talk to Draco before we go, if you don't mind." He did not wait for a response, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him twenty feet down the hallway before stopping,

Draco rasied an eyebrow.

   ISN'T THERE SOMETHING YOU WANT TO
GET
  OFF
YOUR
  CHEST?

Harry remembered the way talking to Draco made him feel; how he liked their friendship more than their rivalry; how he had fanatized about kissing him years before; the way his face flushed when Draco joked about them being together; the feel of Draco in his arms and Harry in his; being comforted after a nightmare; Draco giving him excuses to leave the Great Hall when being famous became too much; the way conversation was just easier with Draco, when existing was just easier with Draco. Draco, Draco, Draco.

"If we don't make it out of this, I just want you to know," Harry said, "I love you, Draco."

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