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18
"Oh, if someone goes around pretending to be my dad and then stuns me, I think it's my damn
business! And you still haven't said how you saw those things. Were you impersonating someone else there?" "No." Harry pointed to his scar. "It links me to Voldemort. I've had dreams when he's been feeling especially violent or murderous; the dreams show me what he's doing, what's happening where he is. I had a dream on Christmas night. But when he did the killing curse, my scar hurt so bad I woke up. I wasn't sure who had gotten killed. For a little while, I thought it might be you..." Malfoy tried to recover his cockiness, but it was half-hearted. "That would have made you happy..." "I was afraid Ginny would think it was my fault. But it's a moot point, now. You're alive and kicking and as obnoxious as ever." "How touching that you were concerned." He smiled evilly. Harry's ire was up, and he was finding it harder and harder to control the urge to put a really good hex on him. "So," Harry said. "Your father will probably tell you what's going on now, when Voldemort summons the Death Eaters. He'll have to tell you, since you can't Apparate to him from Hogwarts- since you can't Apparate at all, in fact." "What makes you think I can't Apparate?" Malfoy said softly. Harry frowned. "But-you're not old enough. You can't get a license until you're of age. It's illegal otherwise." Malfoy smiled-or at least, what passed for a smile for him. "And you think I would have a problem with that?" Harry swallowed. He should remember to stop making assumptions about what Malfoy would and wouldn't do. Working at learning Apparition before he was legal was probably small potatoes for him. "Anyway, even someone who can Apparate can't do it on the grounds of Hogwarts. So, whenever your father tells you what happened at one of the Death Eater meetings, send me an owl and I'll meet you to get the information." Malfoy laughed, shaking his head. Harry stared at him; had he cracked? Had Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse on him for too long? "You're really funny sometimes, Potter, you know that?" But suddenly, his face was anything but funny. Harry remembered how grim he had looked when he had cursed Karkaroff. "Let me tell you how this is going to work," Malfoy went on. "I am going to go about my life, THE DUELING CLUB 189 going to classes, eating, sleeping, corresponding with my father, playing Quidditch, and-oh, yeah- snogging with Ginny as much as humanly possible. If I hear anything incriminating from my father, I'm keeping it to myself until such time as I have enough information to get him locked up in Azkaban properly, where the bastard can't get me, and with a guarantee from the Ministry of Magic that I will be immune from all prosecution and absolutely safe. You will not know anything. Up until the moment my father puts the final nail in his own coffin, you will be completely in the dark. We are not friends. We will not correspond, or meet, or even be civil to each other, understand? I'm running the show now, and you just have to live with it." Harry stared at him. "What? That's not what we agreed to..." "I don't give a damn what you think we agreed to. I'm holding all the cards, Potter. And Ginny too, who is very nice to hold, thank you very much. We're doing this my way now." Harry swallowed. "I don't know about this-I'd rather know what your father's up to before someone I care about gets hurt. How do I know you're actually going to do this? How do I know you're not just playing me? How do I know I can trust you?" Malfoy smirked again; he put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave. "You don't." He was gone. Harry found himself pacing back and forth on the cold marble floor, running his hand through his hair. He was at the mercy of Draco Malfoy, and he didn't like it one bit. Something about this was making him very, very nervous. It didn't feel right; it was a recipe for disaster. What if Malfoy had no intention of following through, what if he just wanted to be with Ginny and make Harry think he was going to turn in his father? He thought of Ginny, kissing Malfoy in the conservatory at the Christmas party...If Malfoy helped put Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, the Weasleys could probably forgive Harry after the fact for not telling anyone about Ginny and Draco Malfoy. But if he was lying... Some of his closest friends-probably his best friend-would be wanting his head on a platter.
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