Modern No-Magic AU Drarry

Chapter Thirty-three

His hand holding his phone falling down to his side, Draco rubbed his face, his shoulders slumping. He quickly straightened back up, looking around before pacing back into the big room. Sliding into his seat at the long table, his fingers drummed against his knee.

"What was that about?" Pansy whispered, examining her nails.

"Work," Draco said shortly. He furrowed his brow and didn't look up as the official conversation continued. He only looked up when the doors burst open and a cloaked individual stalked inside.

His dark eyes glared at everyone around the room before he sat in a high-backed seat, linking his fingers together in front of his mouth.

Everyone around the table fell silent, warily watching the man.

"You fools," he slowly hissed, his face unchanging. "Where is Bella?"

Silence indicated her absence.

Snape gritted his teeth and a slick strand of hair unstuck from the rest of it, flopping in front of his face. "Thanks to her little display on public transport, Potter is being taken to a more secure location where it will be near impossible to reach him."

Heart pumping, Draco tried not to show anything on his face. How did he not realise this before? He knew Snape was by Dumbledore's side all these years, information being passed on to the Death Eaters. He just never expected it to suddenly affect him. Of course, all of this was because of Harry, and whatever affected Harry unwillingly affected Draco.

Harry didn't know about any of this. Was it Draco's responsibility to tell him? Would that even help, or just make things more complicated? Why, as soon as Harry gets involved in this new way, does Draco have so many questions?

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Seated on a table, Harry rapidly bounced his knee as he watched the adults standing around the room talk in hurried tones. When Mrs Weasley began flitting around him for the third time with a cloth he had to forcefully tell her that he really was okay and didn't need his face to be washed. Harry wondered why there were so many people in the room, all of them looking stressed, when they weren't the ones who were nearly shot. Surely he should be allowed to be in these conversations because he was the one who was nearly shot. And maybe, just maybe, they should let him know what the hell was happening because he was nearly shot.

Remus stood at the end of the table, his curled fingers over his mouth and his other arm tightly crossed over his chest. He was listening intently to Mr Weasley, occasionally nodding tightly.

Joining the hushed conversation, Sirius stood next to him and placed a hand on the small of Remus' back. Only then did Remus relax his shoulders and move from his frighteningly still position, shifting his stance. He caught a glance of Harry and held up a finger to Arthur before walking over. "Harry," he said, forcing a smile that did not have the calming effect he was probably intending. "Are you okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Harry asked.

Slowly walking over as well, Sirius tilted his head. "Well, my guess is because you were nearly shot, kiddo."

"I know that," Harry said irritably. "But no one is telling me why. Or who. Who was that guy who had the gun?"

Pulling out a chair, Remus sighed. "A Death Eater. Antonin Dolohov. But you don't have to worry about him anymore. You're safe." He rubbed his face.

"What about the woman, who was she?"

Remus looked up sharply. "What woman?" he enunciated his words slowly and Harry felt as though this was not something anyone had wanted to hear.