Chapter 2: The New Houseguest
Ginny Weasley was sitting in the kitchen drinking Butterbeer when she heard a hesitant knock. She looked up, surprised that there would be someone coming this late at night. She shrugged, thinking of the frequent quick, furtive Order meetings with only a few members at a time and how rarely they had full meetings anymore. She sighed. Everyone was so busy.
At first she had been resentful that Harry wouldn’t let her go on his search for Horcruxes, but now she took the disappointment in stride and helped her mother keep the headquarters running smoothly.
“Mum,” she called, hearing the knocking again and figuring Molly hadn’t heard, “should I get the door?”
“Yes, please, dear,” Molly answered from another room where she was cleaning up before going to sleep. Now that they were at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, they didn’t have to worry about who might be at the door. Among other things, having a Secret Keeper eased stress.
Ginny, half-asleep, hoisted herself off the bench and thanked the gods that she hadn’t changed into her pajamas yet. She opened the door and found the last person she could have expected standing there.
“Malfoy?” she said, incredulous. Just then she heard a pop and saw Harry standing beside her. She expected the sight of him to send her heart careening in her chest since she hadn’t seen him in about two weeks, but she felt strangely detached.
“Sorry, Malfoy. I got held up by Dobby,” Harry told the boy at the door as Malfoy stepped inside.
He looked uncharacteristically nervous as his eyes took in his surroundings. “So,” he asked, “no one is expecting me?”
“Sorry, no. You and Ginny stay here.” Draco noticed Ginny’s eyes flash when Potter ordered her. Interesting, he thought. The Wonder Couple isn’t as perfect as everyone thinks… Then again, I’d hate to have someone like Potter ordering me around, too.
Harry swept out of the room to assemble a quick meeting during which he would tell them about the new houseguest.
“Come into the kitchen,” Ginny said slightly resentfully as she walked out of the entry. “I’ll get you some Butterbeer.”
Draco nodded his thanks. Ginny sat down next to him and looked at him, as if expecting him to tell her why he was there. He felt uncomfortable and for some reason decided to make small talk. “Life is so different not going back to Hogwarts, isn’t it?”
She sighed. “I wish we could go back. Is the Ministry really dumb enough not to realise that it’s probably the safest place in England? Oh, well, I guess without Dum––” She stopped quickly and blushed crimson. She hadn’t wanted to bring up anything that had to do with what Draco had tried to do last year.
“I didn’t want to kill him,” Draco responded, taking her reference in stride. He knew he would be asked about it, and was more than prepared to answer. “It’s just––I had to try. My family...” he ended vaguely.
Ginny nodded. “He would’ve killed them if you hadn’t agreed, right?”
“Well, yeah...”
“Blood is thicker than water.” Ginny yawned. Her tiredness made her unable to say anything except such a cliché.
Draco was startled. He’d figured that Ginny would yell at him for being a murderer, but she didn’t.
It was as if she read his thoughts when she said, “I can’t hate anyone I understand.” Abruptly she stood up. “Good night, M–Draco.”
“Good night... Ginny.” His nose wrinkled slightly about forcing himself to use her first name, but it didn’t feel that strange, all things considered. He glanced at the clock and was startled to see that it was three o’clock in the morning. He laid his head down to wait for Potter, but soon drifted into sleep.
About two hours later Draco felt someone shaking his shoulder. “Malfoy,” he heard a familiar voice say, “Let me show you where you’ll sleep.”
He groggily looked up and saw Potter. Why is he being civil to me? Then he remembered. Potter trusts me now. He smirked at the irony. A Malfoy being trusted and invited to sleep at the “good side’s” headquarters.
Potter led him up the stairs to a fair-sized room and then left without saying anything. Well, he trusts me but he still doesn’t like me, Draco thought as he laid on the bed and quickly fell asleep.
Draco came down to breakfast late the next morning as no one had woken him up. Ginny wasn’t half-asleep like she’d been last night, so she noticed that he looked very different than he had three and a half months ago when he left Hogwarts.
His hair was still white blond, but it was cut shorter and Draco had apparently stopped using hair gel. His hair looks really good like that, Ginny thought as she tried not to scold herself for thinking that way about a Slytherin. Also, the set of his face was different. He no longer looked as though he was superior to the rest of the world; he still looked proud, but it didn’t seem like an insult. His silvery eyes were as serious as they had been throughout his sixth year, yet they looked less worried and held more hope within them. Ginny thought he looked much better than he ever had before, then realised she had been staring for about a minute and quickly looked toward Harry.
Draco noticed her intense scrutiny but didn’t make a snide comment about it. He thought that she looked different too. Her deep brown eyes were serious and yet still held the fire he was beginning to admire. She looks nice, he couldn’t help thinking, remembering how even Blaise Zabini had called her beautiful. Her red hair reached her waist, and her figure was still curvy despite her recent weight loss.
His thoughts changed abruptly as he looked around the room. It appeared that everyone had lost weight, not just Ginny. Worry, he figured, was the cause of it.
He realised that everyone had a reason to worry now–especially him. What would the Dark Lord do when he found out that Draco had run away when trying to fulfill his orders to find Harry Potter?
Well, I found him, Draco thought with a smirk. I just didn’t bring him back.
Beneath Draco’s smug thoughts were feelings of worry and confusion, yet at the same time a feeling that nothing—not even being killed—was worse than being a Death Eater.
Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape searched everywhere for Draco. At first Snape had thought that Bella was crazy when she had first told him that she had heard the sound of someone Apparating, but now that seemed to be the only plausible explanation.
“What are we going to tell him?” Bella screeched when he finally agreed Draco must have left.
Snape, who so rarely got upset, was at a loss for words as his thoughts flew by wildly, trying to find any reasonable explanation: What can we tell him? We can’t tell the truth! Draco – damn him – this is all his fault! He must have decided he can’t take being a Death Eater and run off. Does he actually think that will work? The Dark Lord will know where he is. He always knows. And when he figures it out, I know what I’ll have to do: I’ll have to go pretend to be a spy for the Order again. I can tell he was going to make me do that soon anyw–
His rapid thoughts were interrupted by Bella’s incoherent screeching. He rolled his eyes.
“Bella,” he said, grasping her shoulders and shaking her a bit, “get a grip. Do you want the Dark Lord to know? We could make up a lie...” He trailed off. He could lie to the Dark Lord, but he knew Bella couldn’t. She was very good at Occlumency most of the time, but when it actually mattered – when she actually stood before the Dark Lord! – she couldn’t lie or block her thoughts. Damn it, he thought. It’s hopeless.
“You know I can’t lie to my Lord,” she told him, embarrassed yet defiant as if daring him to make a comment about it.
He knew. So, really there was only one answer: the truth.
How he hated that answer!
Once they walked into the Riddle House, which was once again deemed the perfect hiding place by the Dark Lord after numerous charms were placed, Bella threw herself down at the Dark Lord’s feet saying over and over, “Please forgive him, please forgive him!”
The Dark Lord looked down, disgusted. “Get up and tell me what happened.”
Snape took a step forward, prepared to speak for both of them. The Dark Lord’s lip curled. “Not you, Severus. You can lie.”
Bella looked up and stated speaking in a rushed, but clear voice, “We were at Godric’s Hollow but didn’t find anything, so we decided to separate. When I came back to look for Draco he wasn’t there, but I thought I heard the sound of someone Disapparating. We looked for ages, but couldn’t find Draco anywhere, so we think he must have–”
“The youngest Malfoy decided to abandon me, I see. Well, he’ll have to be killed of course. I only wish I could see it.”
“See it, my Lord? Aren’t you going to perform it?” asked Snape, fully knowing what the answer would be.”
“No,” the Dark Lord answered coldly, emotionlessly. “You are.”
Bella squeaked, then regained her composure. “But he’s by nephew, sir...”
“Then have Severus do it. It’s your mission. Find a way. Bella, leave. Severus, stay here—I wish to speak with you.”
Bella backed out of the room, bowing as she did so. Snape dreaded what he knew he would hear.
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? Well, you know what I want from you. Make the Order members trust you again.”
“My Lord, no... I cannot. I killed Dumbledore; Potter knows that. They’ll kill me!”
“I don’t care how you do it. Don’t talk to me anymore. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious if you wanted to keep their trust! Without being a spy, you are of little use to me.”
“Sir, my loyalty has been unwavering, and I could try to find Draco another way.”
“No,” the Dark Lord answered in a flat, cold voice, “this is what I ask. Leave.”
Snape walked out the door, forgetting to bow or even acknowledge the Dark Lord because he was so lost in his thoughts.
Seeing this, the Dark Lord promptly Crucioed him for forgetting his manners
A week later, Snape had comprised a letter that he doubted would ever work to regain the Order’s trust, but he figured he might as well try. He had no other plans, and he had even asked Bella in his desperation. Of course, she knew even less than he did about such matters, so he decided to send the letter.
Dear Minerva,
You must be wondering why I’m writing, and I can’t blame you if you decide to set fire to this letter before you finish reading. I have to explain to you why I killed Albus Dumbledore.
I have been attempting to write this letter for weeks, which is why it is so belated.
I told Albus about the Unbreakable Vow, and he told me that I would have to follow through on my orders eventually – that my being a spy to the Order would be just as valuable as he had been. I, of course, disagreed, but in turn he made me take an Unbreakable Vow saying that I would kill him in the event that Draco failed. I cannot tell you how I hated to do this.
Even though it pained me to do so, I followed through with his orders even as I knew it would take a long time – or be impossible – to convince you of my innocence. I’m still not sure that I have a hope of convincing you now. Nevertheless, I’ll await your letter. Please discuss this with the other Order members and owl me whenever it is convenient.
With highest regards,
Severus Snape
His face was disgusted as he reread the letter. He hated that it appeared he was grovelling. Then again, perhaps he was. This whole thing is a lie, he thought. Then he tried to look at the letter from a detached point of view. But, I suppose it could happen.
He found no errors that would convince others of his guilt, and smirked as he imagined the emergency Order meeting that would immediately take place. He thought of Potter’s disbelief and how he was sure that Mad-Eye and Potter would be the two most outspoken against him. Still, he would try. He didn’t want to rejoin the Order any more than Potter wanted to see him again, but he had to.
Suddenly, he wondered if Draco could possibly be at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He immediately dismissed the thought. Potter wouldn’t trust Draco any more than he would trust me, Snape decided.
Ginny Weasley was sitting in the kitchen drinking Butterbeer when she heard a hesitant knock. She looked up, surprised that there would be someone coming this late at night. She shrugged, thinking of the frequent quick, furtive Order meetings with only a few members at a time and how rarely they had full meetings anymore. She sighed. Everyone was so busy.
At first she had been resentful that Harry wouldn’t let her go on his search for Horcruxes, but now she took the disappointment in stride and helped her mother keep the headquarters running smoothly.
“Mum,” she called, hearing the knocking again and figuring Molly hadn’t heard, “should I get the door?”
“Yes, please, dear,” Molly answered from another room where she was cleaning up before going to sleep. Now that they were at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, they didn’t have to worry about who might be at the door. Among other things, having a Secret Keeper eased stress.
Ginny, half-asleep, hoisted herself off the bench and thanked the gods that she hadn’t changed into her pajamas yet. She opened the door and found the last person she could have expected standing there.
“Malfoy?” she said, incredulous. Just then she heard a pop and saw Harry standing beside her. She expected the sight of him to send her heart careening in her chest since she hadn’t seen him in about two weeks, but she felt strangely detached.
“Sorry, Malfoy. I got held up by Dobby,” Harry told the boy at the door as Malfoy stepped inside.
He looked uncharacteristically nervous as his eyes took in his surroundings. “So,” he asked, “no one is expecting me?”
“Sorry, no. You and Ginny stay here.” Draco noticed Ginny’s eyes flash when Potter ordered her. Interesting, he thought. The Wonder Couple isn’t as perfect as everyone thinks… Then again, I’d hate to have someone like Potter ordering me around, too.
Harry swept out of the room to assemble a quick meeting during which he would tell them about the new houseguest.
“Come into the kitchen,” Ginny said slightly resentfully as she walked out of the entry. “I’ll get you some Butterbeer.”
Draco nodded his thanks. Ginny sat down next to him and looked at him, as if expecting him to tell her why he was there. He felt uncomfortable and for some reason decided to make small talk. “Life is so different not going back to Hogwarts, isn’t it?”
She sighed. “I wish we could go back. Is the Ministry really dumb enough not to realise that it’s probably the safest place in England? Oh, well, I guess without Dum––” She stopped quickly and blushed crimson. She hadn’t wanted to bring up anything that had to do with what Draco had tried to do last year.
“I didn’t want to kill him,” Draco responded, taking her reference in stride. He knew he would be asked about it, and was more than prepared to answer. “It’s just––I had to try. My family...” he ended vaguely.
Ginny nodded. “He would’ve killed them if you hadn’t agreed, right?”
“Well, yeah...”
“Blood is thicker than water.” Ginny yawned. Her tiredness made her unable to say anything except such a cliché.
Draco was startled. He’d figured that Ginny would yell at him for being a murderer, but she didn’t.
It was as if she read his thoughts when she said, “I can’t hate anyone I understand.” Abruptly she stood up. “Good night, M–Draco.”
“Good night... Ginny.” His nose wrinkled slightly about forcing himself to use her first name, but it didn’t feel that strange, all things considered. He glanced at the clock and was startled to see that it was three o’clock in the morning. He laid his head down to wait for Potter, but soon drifted into sleep.
About two hours later Draco felt someone shaking his shoulder. “Malfoy,” he heard a familiar voice say, “Let me show you where you’ll sleep.”
He groggily looked up and saw Potter. Why is he being civil to me? Then he remembered. Potter trusts me now. He smirked at the irony. A Malfoy being trusted and invited to sleep at the “good side’s” headquarters.
Potter led him up the stairs to a fair-sized room and then left without saying anything. Well, he trusts me but he still doesn’t like me, Draco thought as he laid on the bed and quickly fell asleep.
Draco came down to breakfast late the next morning as no one had woken him up. Ginny wasn’t half-asleep like she’d been last night, so she noticed that he looked very different than he had three and a half months ago when he left Hogwarts.
His hair was still white blond, but it was cut shorter and Draco had apparently stopped using hair gel. His hair looks really good like that, Ginny thought as she tried not to scold herself for thinking that way about a Slytherin. Also, the set of his face was different. He no longer looked as though he was superior to the rest of the world; he still looked proud, but it didn’t seem like an insult. His silvery eyes were as serious as they had been throughout his sixth year, yet they looked less worried and held more hope within them. Ginny thought he looked much better than he ever had before, then realised she had been staring for about a minute and quickly looked toward Harry.
Draco noticed her intense scrutiny but didn’t make a snide comment about it. He thought that she looked different too. Her deep brown eyes were serious and yet still held the fire he was beginning to admire. She looks nice, he couldn’t help thinking, remembering how even Blaise Zabini had called her beautiful. Her red hair reached her waist, and her figure was still curvy despite her recent weight loss.
His thoughts changed abruptly as he looked around the room. It appeared that everyone had lost weight, not just Ginny. Worry, he figured, was the cause of it.
He realised that everyone had a reason to worry now–especially him. What would the Dark Lord do when he found out that Draco had run away when trying to fulfill his orders to find Harry Potter?
Well, I found him, Draco thought with a smirk. I just didn’t bring him back.
Beneath Draco’s smug thoughts were feelings of worry and confusion, yet at the same time a feeling that nothing—not even being killed—was worse than being a Death Eater.
Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape searched everywhere for Draco. At first Snape had thought that Bella was crazy when she had first told him that she had heard the sound of someone Apparating, but now that seemed to be the only plausible explanation.
“What are we going to tell him?” Bella screeched when he finally agreed Draco must have left.
Snape, who so rarely got upset, was at a loss for words as his thoughts flew by wildly, trying to find any reasonable explanation: What can we tell him? We can’t tell the truth! Draco – damn him – this is all his fault! He must have decided he can’t take being a Death Eater and run off. Does he actually think that will work? The Dark Lord will know where he is. He always knows. And when he figures it out, I know what I’ll have to do: I’ll have to go pretend to be a spy for the Order again. I can tell he was going to make me do that soon anyw–
His rapid thoughts were interrupted by Bella’s incoherent screeching. He rolled his eyes.
“Bella,” he said, grasping her shoulders and shaking her a bit, “get a grip. Do you want the Dark Lord to know? We could make up a lie...” He trailed off. He could lie to the Dark Lord, but he knew Bella couldn’t. She was very good at Occlumency most of the time, but when it actually mattered – when she actually stood before the Dark Lord! – she couldn’t lie or block her thoughts. Damn it, he thought. It’s hopeless.
“You know I can’t lie to my Lord,” she told him, embarrassed yet defiant as if daring him to make a comment about it.
He knew. So, really there was only one answer: the truth.
How he hated that answer!
Once they walked into the Riddle House, which was once again deemed the perfect hiding place by the Dark Lord after numerous charms were placed, Bella threw herself down at the Dark Lord’s feet saying over and over, “Please forgive him, please forgive him!”
The Dark Lord looked down, disgusted. “Get up and tell me what happened.”
Snape took a step forward, prepared to speak for both of them. The Dark Lord’s lip curled. “Not you, Severus. You can lie.”
Bella looked up and stated speaking in a rushed, but clear voice, “We were at Godric’s Hollow but didn’t find anything, so we decided to separate. When I came back to look for Draco he wasn’t there, but I thought I heard the sound of someone Disapparating. We looked for ages, but couldn’t find Draco anywhere, so we think he must have–”
“The youngest Malfoy decided to abandon me, I see. Well, he’ll have to be killed of course. I only wish I could see it.”
“See it, my Lord? Aren’t you going to perform it?” asked Snape, fully knowing what the answer would be.”
“No,” the Dark Lord answered coldly, emotionlessly. “You are.”
Bella squeaked, then regained her composure. “But he’s by nephew, sir...”
“Then have Severus do it. It’s your mission. Find a way. Bella, leave. Severus, stay here—I wish to speak with you.”
Bella backed out of the room, bowing as she did so. Snape dreaded what he knew he would hear.
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? Well, you know what I want from you. Make the Order members trust you again.”
“My Lord, no... I cannot. I killed Dumbledore; Potter knows that. They’ll kill me!”
“I don’t care how you do it. Don’t talk to me anymore. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious if you wanted to keep their trust! Without being a spy, you are of little use to me.”
“Sir, my loyalty has been unwavering, and I could try to find Draco another way.”
“No,” the Dark Lord answered in a flat, cold voice, “this is what I ask. Leave.”
Snape walked out the door, forgetting to bow or even acknowledge the Dark Lord because he was so lost in his thoughts.
Seeing this, the Dark Lord promptly Crucioed him for forgetting his manners
A week later, Snape had comprised a letter that he doubted would ever work to regain the Order’s trust, but he figured he might as well try. He had no other plans, and he had even asked Bella in his desperation. Of course, she knew even less than he did about such matters, so he decided to send the letter.
You must be wondering why I’m writing, and I can’t blame you if you decide to set fire to this letter before you finish reading. I have to explain to you why I killed Albus Dumbledore.
I have been attempting to write this letter for weeks, which is why it is so belated.
I told Albus about the Unbreakable Vow, and he told me that I would have to follow through on my orders eventually – that my being a spy to the Order would be just as valuable as he had been. I, of course, disagreed, but in turn he made me take an Unbreakable Vow saying that I would kill him in the event that Draco failed. I cannot tell you how I hated to do this.
Even though it pained me to do so, I followed through with his orders even as I knew it would take a long time – or be impossible – to convince you of my innocence. I’m still not sure that I have a hope of convincing you now. Nevertheless, I’ll await your letter. Please discuss this with the other Order members and owl me whenever it is convenient.
With highest regards,
Severus Snape
His face was disgusted as he reread the letter. He hated that it appeared he was grovelling. Then again, perhaps he was. This whole thing is a lie, he thought. Then he tried to look at the letter from a detached point of view. But, I suppose it could happen.
He found no errors that would convince others of his guilt, and smirked as he imagined the emergency Order meeting that would immediately take place. He thought of Potter’s disbelief and how he was sure that Mad-Eye and Potter would be the two most outspoken against him. Still, he would try. He didn’t want to rejoin the Order any more than Potter wanted to see him again, but he had to.
Suddenly, he wondered if Draco could possibly be at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He immediately dismissed the thought. Potter wouldn’t trust Draco any more than he would trust me, Snape decided.
Author notes: I know this starts out a little rough, but it gets better, I promise! I have up through chapter twelve written, so updates will be often!
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