Draco tried to push the thought of deadly poisons out of his mind. 'I'm all right…did you think I wouldn't be?'
Harry drew out the chain that hung around his throat, and looked down at it. In the half-light, the gold Epicyclical Charm glimmered dully. 'I knew you weren't dead already,' he said quietly. 'But I didn't know you wouldn't die.' He let the chain drop back into his shirt. 'Draco, what happened? What were you doing wandering around in the snow at 6 am anyway?'
Draco noted the use of his given name and was, despite himself, pleased.
'I'll tell you in a second. Reach onto that nightstand and get my clothes, will you?'
Harry gave him a narrow look. 'Why?'
'Because I want something that's in the pocket, Potter. Actually I just want the shirt…thanks,' he said, and caught the shirt that Harry tossed to him, which had been neatly folded. Draco unfolded it, and blinked. It was ruined, unsurprisingly, the right shoulder a stiffened mass of blood and torn fabric. The shirt had been slit down the front as well, where they must have cut it off his body.
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.'
