'How? How is that different?'
'Because you?re Harry Potter.' Dracos voice was clear and toneless. He was stating facts — simple facts. 'The Boy Who Lived. The one who?ll save everyone. You?re needed. I?m not.'
'Thats the stupidest thing I?ve ever heard,' Harry said bitterly. 'I can?t believe you?d take who I am and throw it in my face like that — whats wrong with you? You think I could live with myself knowing that I let you die because I?m famous and you?re not?'
'Its not about being famous. And anyway, you wouldn?t have to live with yourself — you wouldn?t remember it. My father said he?d Memory Charm us both. You wouldn?t have to know,' Draco said, and instantly regretted it.
Harry stared at him. The pupils of his eyes had dilated so far that they looked black, rimmed with faint bands of green. 'I have never,' he said, 'ever, in my life, wanted to hit someone as much as I want to hit you right now.'
'Hit me if you want,' Draco said quietly. 'But know this: if you let my father win, then Voldemort wins. And if he gets the cup, he can destroy the world with it. It sounds ridiculous, but there it is. You?re a hero, aren?t you? And this is a heros choice. Your friends — or everything else.'
Harrys hands, at his sides, flexed, and Draco wondered for an odd detached moment if Harry really was going to hit him. Then Harry said, in a clear factual voice, 'I should hope that you would know what I?d choose.'
Draco looked at him. And realized, with an odd sort of shock at his heart, that he didn?t know. He would have assumed Harry would have chosen, as he?d phrased it, everything else. He opened his mouth to ask, couldn ?t think of a way to formulate the question, and then lost the opportunity forever, for at that moment the tower door opened again and Lucius stepped through.
He was not smiling, but he had an expectant look about him. Something gold winked at his right breast pocket, underneath his open cloak. In his right hand he carried a rolled parchment and a quill. 'So, boys,' he said, looking from one of them to the other. 'Have you made up your minds?'
Hermione had spread the parchments out on the desk and was going through them with a shaking hand. She had managed to push her horror at being impersonated to the back of her mind: now it leaped out afresh.
Someone had copied her handwriting, copied it so well that even her best friend had been duped by it. And they had not just copied her writing, but her expressions, her turns of phrase….Pansy must hate her so, so much, Hermione thought, her skin crawling, she must have planned this for so long, watched her so closely. The hair prickled along Hermiones spine and she shivered.
Dearest, I missed you today. I thought about you so much during Potions that I forgot to take notes — pretty soon I?ll be facing my greatest fear, what was it you said? A homework paper that only got nine out of ten?
I can?t wait to see you tonight. I wish I didn?t have so much work to do for my final project. I know its because I?ve been spending so much time with you that it isn?t ready. We can work on the project together if you don?t mind if I bring some homework with me. Imagine me creeping along the corridors to you, my pockets full of burdock, mugwort and rue…if you wouldn?t mind bringing the yarrow root as well, that would be a help…now, don?t forget!
All I want is just to spend time with you, of course, except that will have to wait until after New Years, won ?t it? Thank you darling for your obedience and ability to understand…I know its been hard keeping this a dark secret. Won?t it be a relief when we can finally be together without any hiding.
Oh lord, someones coming. I must run. I love you.
Hermione.
A frown crinkled the side of Hermiones mouth. Burdock, mugwort and rue — what was that about? Something Ron had said to her before he left school leaped suddenly into her mind — 'It wasn?t just sex, you know. We talked, we ate together, we did our Potions homework…'
She looked again, hard, at the letter. The transition from the first paragraph into the second was fairly subtle; the entreaty to bring ingredients for a potion was buried under endearments, but Hermione had a feeling it was the real gist of the letter. None of the letters, upon more careful perusal, were all that passionate: they were carefully if affectionately worded. Which, indeed, would have been Hermiones style had she actually written them. She was not much of a love letter writer: she had never even written a love letter to Harry, and could not imagine doing so. She loved him, but the idea of sitting down and writing a paean to his green eyes and adorable nose struck her as faintly ridiculous.
Perhaps she had no poetry in her soul, but there it was.
She slowly lifted her wand and touched the end of it to the paper. There was a simple rhyming charm…
'Ink and parchment, quill and bone
Let this letters truth be shown.
Quill and inkpot, seal and feather
Reveal the writer of this letter.'
The parchment trembled. Then the words on the paper rearranged themselves to form a name: PANSY PARKINSON.
Hermione shrugged to herself as the name on the parchment melted away and the original content returned. Well, she?d expected it to be Pansy. No surprise there. She bit her lip. There was one more thing she could do; she hadn?t done it because she was afraid of the answer. They?d learned in DaDA that certain kinds of Confundus Charms could be woven into written material: the famous 'book you could never stop reading,' according to Lupin, contained in fact one of the strongest Obedience Charms ever created woven into the text.
'Revelatus confundus,' she murmured.
The parchment trembled again. This time the words did not melt away, only some of them darkened and stood out against the rest of the text.
Dearest, I missed you today. I thought about you so much during Potions that I forgot to take notes — pretty soon I?ll be facing my greatest fear, what was it you said? A homework paper that only got nine out of ten?
I can?t wait to see you tonight. I wish I didn?t have so much work to do for my final project. I know its because I?ve been spending so much time with you that it isn?t ready. We can work on the project together if you don?t mind if I bring some homework with me. Imagine me creeping along the corridors to you, my pockets full of burdock, mugwort and rue…if you wouldn?t mind bringing the yarrow root as well, that would be a help…now, don?t forget!
All I want is just to spend time with you, of course, except that will have to wait until after New Years, won ?t it? Thank you darling for your obedience and ability to understand…I know its been hard keeping this a dark secret. Won?t it be a relief when we can finally be together without any hiding.
Oh lord, someones coming. I must run and I love you- I hope that you will always love me.
Hermione read the highlighted words out with an audible exclamation of dismay: 'Final project is ready. Bring burdock, mugwort and yarrow root.
Now forget all except your obedience to the dark lord and always love me.'
She sat back on her heels, and shook her head, a heavy foreboding settling over her. 'Oh, Ron,' she said aloud. 'What have you gotten yourself into?'
Harry held out his hand to Lucius. 'Give me the quill,' he said.
'No,' Draco said sharply, and stepped forward, but Lucius had put himself between the two boys, and he held his son off with one arm.
'Harry — '
Harry bit his lip and averted his eyes from Draco. 'Give me the quill — ' he said again, quickly. 'And some parchment.'
'A very wise decision,' Lucius said. His smile was sharp enough to cut glass. 'I am glad to see at least one of
