A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Six

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"Well, maybe you don't know everything about me."

Draco blinks blearily at his curtains, he hears a sigh. "I need to talk to him. Get out of my way."

He stirs silently and sees that his curtains are drawn, but there is light streaming in through the gaps around his four-poster.

"You are in no position to make demands, Gryffindor," Draco hears Blaise's voice deep with authority. "Now leave."

Gryffindor? A Gryffindor in the dungeons, Draco wants to snort at the ridiculous thought.

And then he shoots up straight, pulling the emerald curtain away. His hand shoots up at the candlelight hitting his eyes, but when he sets it down he's more confused than ever.

"Weasley?"

There's a sort of relief on the redhead's face, but his cheeks are so red with anger Draco barely notices. Blaise steps between them. "Draco needs to rest, and you are out of your league. I'm being merciful, you understand. Take your leave now."

"Shut up, Blaise," Draco swats his hand at his best friend's shoulder as he moves to get up. He's intrigued. The only reason Weasley would be here is because he's desperate, desperate about a certain green-eyed wizard. He squares his shoulders and opts out of the Malfoy sneer, just steels his face as he was taught to. "Why are you here, Weasley?"

There's a spare moment where Weasley shifts his eyes to Blaise, then he clears his throat and stands taller. "Harry's missing."

Draco rolls his eyes in character, schools his features so the desperation won't show through his eyes. "Yes, we are all aware. Now are you going to give me news worth my while, or shall I have you escorted out of the dungeons?"

At that, Weasley flares his nostrils in anger but his cheeks don't stain pink. It would truly be a terrifying sight and Draco would most likely cower, seeing as the boy has definitely shaped into a man over the summer. His shoulders have broadened with thicker muscle and his arms have swells in them larger than before. However, the Lion is in the Snake Pit so he keeps his calm, regarding the change with a raised eyebrow.

"No, you git. Harry's been missing, as in we didn't know where he was. Last week we found his body in the castle but he wouldn't wake up. So we took him to the Gryffindor wing and put him in the room that was supposed to be his and last night when we went to check on him, he was gone. Which, coincidentally, was also the night you decided to come back. So, naturally, Hermione and I split up to look for him and she hasn't come back. Neither has Harry."

Draco loses his blanch face, his eyebrows furrow in confusion and he feels Blaise's elbow jab him in the side. He puts up another mental wall and purses his lips. "Are you accusing me of moving him?"

Weasley sighs, discontent clear on his face. "Look, I know I'm out of my element, I just don't...I'm not...It's difficult to understand what's going on. I'm not clever. That's why I'm here. To ask for help."

Draco regards him from beneath his lashes. "You must have some sort of social death wish coming here, Weasley," he drawls, crossing his arms over his chest. "However, seeing as you came alone shows that you can handle your own, I respect that."

"Wait, hold on," Blaise pushes Draco back towards his bed to sit down and he turns to Weasley. "Do you mind? I'd like to have a talk with him."

Weasley's eyes bulge comically. "You want me to leave? I'll get eaten out there!"

"Serves you right for showing up uninvited," Blaise scowls at him. "Fine, just...occupy yourself. Don't snoop."

Draco is confused by the civility between them but he barely has time to voice his thoughts because Blaise shuts the curtains immediately and rounds on him. "Have you gone mad? Helping a Gryffindor? Do you want to attract the Deatheaters," Draco almost flinches. "For one of the brightest in our class, that sure was a stupid move."

Draco doesn't let his facade fall. "Listen carefully, Blaise, because I will only tell you this once. This war does not end until they are all dead, do you understand? We are on top of the hit list. That means that despite what we choose to do and who we choose to help, they will come. And when they do we need to be ready, we need to decide which way our stars point."

Blaise almost faints, his eyes roll back dangerously much like earlier. "Joining the Light? We'll be killed by the rest of Slytherin before we even think about it."

"I never said anything about joining sides. You have to decide whether or not this world is worth living in. Do you want to live in fear or do you want to live in harmony? You make your choice. I have made mine," Draco clears his throat and steels his voice. "Excuse me."

Before he has the chance to pull the curtains back his wrist is snatched back, Blaise is looking at him with wide eyes. "How will we protect ourselves? Gryffindors will not protect us, Draco."

Draco's heart lurches for his best friend. He knows Blaise will follow him to the ends of the world, but he also knows that Blaise will only do so when he knows he is safe. Assuring him with false pretenses is not going to work, Blaise is smarter than that. He remembers his younger years, when Blaise would come to the Manor and they would impede mischief on the house elves, and Blaise would only do so much because he knew he could get away with it. And he remembers Blaise agreeing immediately on sneaking out of the dorms during second year because he had finally perfected a Disillusionment Charm at his young age. Blaise has always been beside him, and it hurt Draco to see him hesitate, but he completely understood. He wouldn't throw himself blindly in the face of potential danger, either.

"We will find a way. If Slytherins know how to do anything, it is survive. It would be wise to find an ally."

"Surely you aren't speaking of the Headmistress," Blaise asks sourly. "We'll end up at the bottom of the food chain."

Draco almost laughs. "No, definitely not. Although, if worse comes to worst, it would not be an entirely bad idea."

"So you're helping Weasley, then?"

The eyebrow on Draco's face lowers and his eyes soften. "I know how it will look. However, in order for this war to be over we need Harry. At this moment, we need the Weasel as much as he needs us."

"But...Weasley?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but are you guys almost done? It's almost time for breakfast and I'd like to have a plan before eating," Ron cuts in timely, his stomach accompanying his complaint with a faint growl. "I heard they're serving french toast."

Blaise feigns indifference but Draco can see he wants to throw something at Weasley. Before he can, Draco pulls open a drape and stands in front of the ginger, Blaise unfolds next to him. Weasley is looking at them, trying to keep his features impassive but they can tell he's anxious. The Slytherins share a look silently, and Blaise turns to face the Gryffindor.

"We'll help you find them."

Blaise looks to Draco, who nods, looking at Ron again. "Meet me in the library tomorrow after lunch."