How Are You, Really? (Drarry)

Chapter Fifty-Three: An Owed Explanation

            Headmistress McGonagall gave them permission to use her office when they arrived at the castle, although she did threaten Rita Skeeter, making it abundantly clear she was not to write a story about anything said in confidence. Draco was impressed to see the woman cower a bit, her tight curls seeming to spiral in on themselves even more.

They sat in conjured chairs placed in a circle, with Harry on one side of Draco and Hermione on the other. Harry hadn't said a word to Draco since he'd been released.

Once ever-hot hot chocolate had been provided, Draco ran his hands through his hair and asked, "For fuck's sake, what in the bloody hell is going on?"

All eyes turned to Hermione, who looked beyond smug. Even Rita looked at her silently, waiting for 'little miss perfect' to speak.

"Well," Hermione started, "I've been trying to think of a way to improve Draco's image -."

Ron cut her off. "So you invite the woman who destroyed his image with that awful article into this?"

"I was just publishing what the readers wanted to hear, you insolent boy. Don't you know anything about journalism?" Rita snapped.

Ron stuck his tongue out at her but stopped himself from replying after a glare from Hermione. "Anyways, I thought the best way to get the news out that Draco had changed was to have an anonymous article written about all the philanthropy work he does without recognition. But Rita here," she rolled her eyes, "insisted she find out first hand what was going on. We were trying to figure out how to get the information from you, Draco, when the letter from your mother arrived."

Draco nodded, beginning to understand. "So you planted Rita in her animagous form on me when you straightened my collar. I knew that beetle looked familiar!"

Hermione beamed. "Exactly. You were just supposed to speak about the business at your meeting with your mother, and I figured she'd bring up the money you're giving away. And Rita was supposed to hear it and write a nice article about you for the public to read. The amount of money you've donated is staggering. We had no idea she'd need to be a witness to... that."

Draco turned to Rita who's fingers were twitching with the desire to be writing down everything that was said. "But why would you help?"

Rita bit her lip before saying with less venom than usual, "Miss Priss over there is still holding it over my head that I'm unregistered, and she reminded me that you lot all know too. And," she added after a moment, "After all the stories you gave me several years ago, it was the least I could do. You paid my rent for the next year."

Draco's mouth dropped open, and he shifted, uncomfortable by the reminder of his actions fourth year. He cleared his throat. "But why did you step forward and clear my name? It would have been a good story – Death Eater Kills Mother."

Rita snorted. "You're not looking at the big picture. You and Harry together for the long run is worth far more than a one-off story."

Draco blinked at her. "Well, thank you. You've still saved me. I owe you one."

Rita's eyes lit up. "How about an exclusive interview on the happenings today?" Everyone in the room turned to glare at her. "Or not."

"Maybe later. Once this has all blown over, we can go in-depth with the charities I support and why."

Skeeter looked mollified. "Fine. After today though, I'm ready to go home. Good night." She rose and exited.

The rest of the group murmured their excuses as well, and Blaise gave him a pat on the back as he passed. Eventually, it was just Draco and a silent Harry in the room. Draco couldn't bear to look at him. He hadn't said a word, and that was causing Draco intense distress. Did Harry hate him now? "Harry, say something please," Draco begging, looking down at his clasped hands.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything!"

Harry took a deep breath. "I think I'm still in shock. I never thought I'd walk in on my boyfriend standing over his dead mother or have him get arrested for a murder he didn't commit. I don't know what to say to you."

Tears burned the back of Draco's eyes. "Yea, well, I never expected to be in this position."

Something seemed to click in Harry's head, and he got off the chair and crouched in front of Draco. "Draco, darling, I'm not mad at you."

He stiffened. "You aren't?"

"NO! Never! I was terrified for you! That could have been you on the ground, not your mother! They could have taken you away, and I never would have seen you again! God Draco! I'm still in shock!"

Draco stared at him, relief sweeping through him. "Oh, thank god. I thought you hated me now."

"Why would I hate you?" Harry asked, bewildered. He grabbed Draco's hands and held them tightly in his own.

"Because I killed my mother," Draco whispered.

Harry stared at him slack-jawed, still in his kneeling position. "No, you didn't. You didn't cast the spell."

"No, but it did bounce off my shield charm. It's my fault." Draco felt hot tears spill over onto his cheeks.

Harry stood and wrapped the still sitting Draco in his arms. "No, it isn't. Your mother is the one that cast the spell; she's the one that trapped you."

"I'm so relieved it's over between her and me, and I feel so guilty about it," Draco wept.

"I know you do. But you shouldn't. Just because someone is biologically related to you, it doesn't mean that they're your family anymore."

"I know."

They stayed like that until Draco was all cried out. Rising, they walked to their dorm hand in hand.