chapter thirty-seven

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Chapter Thirty-Seven: Machination

Harry almost ran into Ron as he turned a corner.

"Ron? Why are you down here?"

"I had to talk to Malfoy."

"What?"

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

Harry blinked. What?

"I'm not saying I won't have some problems with you and Malfoy. And I can't promise to suddenly like him or anything. But I'm not going to stop you from living your life… and if that means letting you marry Malfoy, then I'll let you do it."

Harry was shocked. "That's… thanks Ron."

Ron grinned sheepishly. "No problem, Harry."

Draco was calmer when he emerged, dripping, from his shower… but not much calmer. If he was surprised to see Harry waiting for him when he entered the bedroom, he didn't show it.

"What are you grinning at?"

"You talked to Ron."

"If that's what you call talking, Harry, then I wonder what you call arguing or throwing insults at each other."

Harry just shrugged and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "He said not to expect him to suddenly be friends with you but he's ok with our engagement."

Draco rolled his eyes as he sat on the foot of the bed to finally finish the work he'd been planning to do before the Weasel had shown up. "I'll tell you not to expect us ever to be friends, but hopefully you understand that already."

"Did I ever ask you to be friends?" Harry grinned lopsidedly. "That would be asking for a miracle. I might as well ask Voldemort to go kill himself for me while I'm at it."

Draco couldn't help the smirk. "I always thought spontaneous combustion would be a good way for him to die."

Harry laughed at the idea as Draco began to sketch his arithmancy problem. "Hermione had an idea about how to get back at Rita Skeeter for that article before."

"Really? Do tell." Draco frowned absently as he began to take the rudimentary equation and expand it to fit the problem.

"She and some others are going to write articles about us. Detailed ones, with details that only they can get because they're our peers. Then they're going to sell them to different publications with the agreement that for continued information on us none of Rita Skeeter's articles can be published by those publications."

"Sounds good… wait, what?" Draco looked up from his calculations.

"You agreed to it. Too late to back out now." Harry grinned.

Draco sighed. "Whatever. As long as I get to see these articles before they're published." And he went back to his calculations.

Harry peered over his shoulder. "That looks like a lot of numbers and gibberish to me."

"That's exactly what it is, Harry, and that's why the answer's not coming out the way I want it to." And Draco reached for another sheet of parchment to start the problem all over again.

"They need a date, though."

"A date for what?"

"Our marriage ceremony."

"Oh that."

"Oh that? That's all you say?"

"Sorry, theta's avoiding me right now and that's the calculation I need for the influencer on the future. (1) Then I take that and multiply it by beta and I get the answer."

"Didn't you just do that?"

"No, I divided by gamma."

"You lost me… anyway, the date?"

"You pick one, I don't care. Just make it after the school year is done."

Harry grinned wryly at Draco's concentrated scribbling. "I have a feeling you'll want to change that answer later. I'll ask again when you're not working on something."

"I speak the truth, my Lord. Severus gave his blessing for their engagement. He said so!"

"You lie, Narcissa. Severus would not betray me."

"My Lord, I heard him with my own ears. He said-"

"I do not care what you heard, Narcissa. I tell you that Severus would never betray me. You will leave my presence now."

"But my Lord-"

"Crucio"

As the woman writhed on the floor, Voldemort shook his head sadly. "One would think you would know to listen to me by now, Narcissa."

Harry jolted awake from peaceful slumber, not sure of why he was waking so suddenly. The boy beside him shifted and pulled him closer against his chest, one wing draping over the two of them, the new feathers covering them and the other feathers that had been shed earlier that night. Harry frowned in the darkness, thinking. He only ever woke up violently like that when he had one of those dreams of Voldemort hurting someone, but because of his bond with Draco he could not see or feel those dreams anymore.

"Harry, why are you awake?" Draco mumbled against the back of his head.

"I think Voldemort was torturing someone tonight."

"So? Not your problem. Sleep."

"But I'm wondering who it was."

"The only way you'd know that is to experience the dream." Draco yawned. He'd been pulled from his own sleep by the bond. Harry must have been worried. "And that won't happen, so why worry about it?"

"But what if it's-"

"Harry, you'd rather dream of Voldemort than me? I'm hurt." Draco smirked sleepily.

"I don't dream of you, you self-centered git. Just of your wings."

"My wings are part of me, Harry. Admit it, you dream of me."

"I'm not saying anything."

"Good, so I can go back to sleep now."

Snape felt the Dark Mark burn and hurried to retrieve his Death Eater robes and mask before heading out of the boundaries of Hogwarts to apparate to the side of "his Lord".

"Severusss. Narcissa has spouting accusations towards you."

Snape took in the woman standing, looking more than a little shaken, off to the side of the room. She'd been put under Crucio. He could see the symptoms. "What accusations my Lord?"

"She says you are no longer loyal to me, Severus. She speaks of young Malfoy's engagement to Potter. What do know about this, Severus? Did you allow this?"

Snape felt Voldemort probing subtly at his mind and he instinctively closed off all memories except for the one moment when Draco asked him for permission to request engagement the second time, the time when Potter's name had not been mentioned. "He did not tell me who he was going to propose to, my Lord. Had I known I would not have sanctioned it." He drew up the emotions he remembered from long ago, during the years when he had truly believed in Voldemort's cause and pushed them towards the surface of his mind.

Voldemort smiled. "I should not have doubted you, Severus. You may go, and extend my regards to your godson. Make sure he understands the consequences of his actions."

"I will, my Lord."

(1) Arithmancy – Divination by use of numbers

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