Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

Harry looked vaguely sickened. "That's a lot of blood."

"Yep," said Draco, still staring down at the shirt. "It was really expensive, too. Donna Charon autumn collection…"

"Malfoy." Harry looked impatient. "What happened?"

"I went outside to meet someone," Draco said slowly. "And I wasn't outside in the snow…I was up on a tower."

"The Astronomy Tower?" Harry looked interested now. "You told me people only ever go up there to have sex." His eyes widened. "Were you having sex?"

"I have a bedroom, Potter. Why would I go up onto the Astronomy Tower to have sex?"

"Well, who were you meeting, then?"

"Rhysenn, my cousin."

Harry gave Draco a blank, uncomprehending stare.

"The black-haired girl who came down the stairs with Charlie at your birthday party."

"So you were having sex!" Harry glanced at Draco's ruined shirt. "She must be fairly wild."

"Potter, if you do not shut up about sex, I will twist your head off and use it as a Quaffle."

"Okay, okay." Harry subsided, his eyes shining with silent mirth. Draco was fairly sure that Harry had been being purposely obnoxious this whole time. "So tell me what you were doing."

Draco sighed, and explained — about Rhysenn, about the letters from his father, the maps that led to secret meeting places, the cryptic messages, and finally, the attack on them both. "I've no idea who she really is," he finished. "Or what she wants, or whether the person who shot at us was trying to kill me or to kill her. And I don't know how I wound up at the foot of the tower, either. I must have fallen. I'm just surprised the fall didn't kill me."

Harry was staring at him with saucer eyes. "Your father is alive?"

Draco nodded.

"Your father is alive and you didn't tell me?"

Draco looked at his hands. "Dumbledore made me swear not to tell you.

I'm.. sorry. I wanted to." He held himself very still. Harry was a barely visible shadow beyond the fringe of silvery light that was his own falling hair. "Who else could I tell besides you?"

"But you didn't tell me."

"I swore I wouldn't." Draco paused. "It's not as if there aren't things you haven't been telling me."

Draco heard Harry sigh. "That's true." He hesitated. "But you're telling me now? You're breaking your promise?"

"I could have died," Draco said. "And if I did die, you would deserve to know why and how."

He looked up, and saw Harry staring at him with a tense expression.

"I owe Dumbledore," added Draco. "But I owe you more."

Harry hesitated, and then his face relaxed into a smile. "Thanks," he said, and Draco felt gratified despite himself. It was the annoying thing about Harry — he had that quality given to only a very few, that made even his smallest gesture seem weighted with significance. Whatever it was, it was what made him a natural leader — it was what made people want to protect him, that made them line up to stand between him and whatever encroaching darkness he must one day defeat. But then, that was the nature of being a hero.

That was of course, when he wasn't being a prat.

"Malfoy," Harry said. "What do the letters say?"

"The letters Rhysenn brings? Not much useful. Here, this last one's in the pocket of my shirt — that's why I wanted it." Draco pulled the parchment, remarkably unharmed, out of the shirt pocket where he had tucked it, and unrolled it. "Draco," he read out. "Lo these many years we have waited, you and I, for your true birthday to dawn. Remember this: some must be sacrificed that others might be saved. True obedience requires no illusions. Soon you will know everything." Draco shrugged. "That's it."

Harry sat for a moment, gnawing his lower lip. Then he held his hand out.

"Let me see the letter."

"I told you what it said."

"I want to see it anyway. There might be clues."

"Right, because bad guys love to leave clues lying around. It's really a desperate cry for help."

"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry.

Draco handed the letter over with a shrug. "If you insist on playing Junior Auror, I guess I can't stop you."

Harry ignored him. "This letter was written in Green Viridian Ink," he said, his voice intent. "Only bona fide Ministry officials can use it, you know."

Draco was impressed. "Really?"

"No, actually, I made that up. Here, take your stupid letter." Harry tossed the letter back, looking disgusted. "Who says 'Lo', anyway?"

"Who says 'bona fide'?" Harry was prevented from answering this when the letter in Draco's hand caught fire. Draco dropped it with an oath, and it turned to ash before it hit the stone infirmary floor. "They always do that," Draco said sulkily, putting his burned thumb in his mouth. "I guess so I can't keep them as evidence."

"What does that mean, your 'true birthday'?"

"No idea."

"Didn't it ever occur to you to try to find out what a true birthday might be?"

"How?"

"Well," said Harry, as if it were obvious, "Ask Hermione. If she doesn't know, she could find out for you."

"I'd rather not bring anyone else into this."

"Hermione isn't anyone else," Harry pointed out. "She's…Hermione. You can tell her anything."

"Which is why you told her about our little graveyard excursion?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something, then shut it with a snap.

"That's different."

"Why, because it's your big secret?"

"Because nobody's trying to kill me."

"Ha!"

Harry looked at him sharply. "Did you just say 'Ha!'?"

Draco considered. "Embarrassingly, yes."

"By which you meant…?"

Draco yawned hugely. He was growing more and more tired. "Someone's always trying to kill you, Potter. You wouldn't be you if they weren't. And in point of fact, who knows if someone was trying to kill me or if they were going for Rhysenn and missed?"

Harry was silent for a moment. His right hand was playing with the loop of his belt — actually, with the odd-looking scarlet bangle that he never seemed to go without. "I don't think you should trust her," he said finally.

"Thank you, I don't." Draco yawned again. "Potter, I was thinking…"

"What?"

"Well, if you ask Lupin to give you a Portkey that'll take you to Doon's Hill, won't he guess why you're going there? I'm surprised he put it on the homework, actually."

"Right. That's why I'm going to tell him that we want to go to Shepton Mallet instead."

"But we don't want to go there…oh."

"Come on, Malfoy. Cunning plans, remember? The big thing is to get off school grounds, considering that we can't Apparate or fly away and don't exactly have time to walk."

"So how are we meant to get from that Mallet place to Doon's Hill?"

"Leave that to me." Harry smiled, then bit his lip. "But you're sure…you still want to go?"

"Want to might be a little strong. I'm still willing. I'll be fine in a day or two, I'm pretty sure."

"We can wait as long as you want," said Harry.

"No, it's fine." Draco leaned back against the pillows and shut his eyes.

"You do realize," he said sleepily, "that this means…we're going to have to do…an entire report on Shepton Mallet…for no damn good reason at all."

He yawned a final time. "Thanks to you," he added.

He never heard what Harry said in response; he had already fallen asleep.

He was dreaming again. He was in the tower room once more, and his father was there, as was the Dark Lord. He stood at a different angle now, and could see out the tall and narrow windows. They showed an unfamiliar landscape: a ridged valley dropping away into wooded trees.

The night sky was high and black, the stars like naked daggers. Lucius and the Dark Lord stood together by a huge and circular golden cage, the kind that might have held a lion or a tiger. Instead it held a woman. A slender, tall woman clad only in her own long black hair, which swirled around her like smoke, hiding her body. It was not until she raised her face that he knew her.