'Good,' said Hermione, with finality. 'Sirius…'
'Yes?'
'Why won't you let anyone but Harry touch that sword?' she asked.
In answer, Sirius held up his hand and she saw what looked like an angry red burn across his palm. 'That's why,' he said. 'If I'd held it any longer it would have charred away my hand.'
'But Draco touched it, and he's all right,' she said.
'Yes he is,' said Sirius, turning to look at Draco again. 'Which opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities.'
'You're not going to tell me, are you?' she said crankily. 'You're just going to be cryptic.'
'Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you,' said Sirius.
She raised her eyebrows inquiringly.
'Don't be too hard on Harry,' he said calmly. 'The people he's really loved in his life, well, they tend to die. Makes him jumpy about expressing emotion.'
'Maybe we could do a little less of the advice-giving,' said Draco, 'and a little more of the taking care of the patient? I am the focus of attention here, am I not?'
They both jumped and stared at him. He was awake and looking at them, not smiling, but with amusement in his clear gray eyes.
'Draco!' cried Hermione happily, and threw her arms around him.
'Ow,' he said, but he was smiling now.
'Sorry,' she said, pulling back. 'Did I hurt you?'
'Getting stomped on by ten Death Eaters hurt me,' said Draco. 'You just…reminded me.'
Sirius was looking at him hard. 'How long have you been awake?' he said. 'Did you hear us talking about the Epicyclical Charm?'
'Yeah,' said Draco, not smiling any more.
Sirius opened his mouth, but Draco shook his head. 'It's all right,' he said. 'I get it. I get as much as I want to. Don't explain.'
Sirius shut his mouth and stood up, still looking worried. 'I'm going for Dumbledore,' he said. 'I'll be right back.'
'Harry,' said Dumbledore, after a long pause.
'Yes, Professor?'
Harry had just finished telling Dumbledore his version of the past week's events.
They were sitting in the Headmaster's office, a beautiful circular room of which Harry was very fond. This was lucky, since he seemed to end up there quite a lot.
Dumbledore was obviously thinking much the same thing. 'I had been hoping this would be the term that did not end with you sitting in my office looking as if you had just survived a goblin rebellion. Alas, this appears to have been too much to hope for,' he lamented. 'In addition, we have Aurors scrambling all over England at the moment, trying to put Memory Charms on all the Muggles who have reported seeing wizards drop out of the sky, thanks to your friend Miss Granger's extremely effective Whirlwind Charm. As for Lord Voldemort-' Dumbledore sighed. 'We have no idea where he may be.'
'I'm really sorry about all this, Professor,' said Harry listlessly.
Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted. 'Come, Harry,' he said. 'You must know that I don't blame you. Any more than I blamed you for having your name put in the Goblet of Fire.'
'Yeah,' said Harry in the same listless voice. 'Everything happens to me, doesn't it?'
'You are special,' said Dumbledore. 'Even you do not know how special.'
'So tell me,' said Harry.
'I plan to,' said Dumbledore unexpectedly. 'But I am waiting for young Malfoy to wake up first, as it concerns him as well,' he added, even more unexpectedly.
Harry stared. 'What's it got to do with Malfoy?'
Now Dumbledore was looking at him consideringly. 'You don't like him, do you?'
'Not much,' said Harry, staring at the floor.
'And yet you offered your own life for his, by your account and Sirius',' said Dumbledore. 'And he for you. Why is that?'
'I-don't know,' said Harry, looking startled. 'Professor — ' 'Yes?'
'Lucius Malfoy said his family were descended from Slytherin. And this sword, here, was his. But you told me there were no descendents of Slytherin left besides Voldemort.'
'I was wrong,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'It happens. Salazar Slytherin lived many hundreds of years ago. Certainly there are some descendants of his still living. None with a really significant concentration of Slytherin blood, though. Or so I thought. It's rather like you, having Gryffindor blood-' Harry upset the ink-bottle he had been toying with. 'I've got Gryffindor blood?'
'Oh, dear,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'That was meant to be a secret.'
'Well, no wonder Malfoy and I don't like each other, then,' said Harry.
