"The Horcrux...is in Draco's vault?"
Harry stared at the Headmaster in disbelief. Albus nodded at his young student, sorrow in his eyes.
"But why?"
The old man sighed. "I do not claim to know Lucius or Voldemort's minds, Harry. Whatever their reasons, the Horcrux is in Draco's vault at Gringott's. His father does not allow him to enter the vault, for fear that Draco might do something with it, however innocently. I assume that Voldemort let Lucius put it there, because it is one of the least likely places to hide a Horcrux. And the blame, if there was any, would be placed on Draco's shoulders, not Lucius', for he could claim to have known nothing of it."
Harry clenched his hands into fists. "His own father," he said through gritted teeth. "Using his son as a scapegoat...he doesn't even try to protect Draco...I hate him!"
Dumbledore leaned forward. "Calm yourself, Harry," he said in a soothing voice. Harry looked around, and noticed the objects on Dumbledore's desk trembling from the waves of his magic that roiled. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it, calming himself.
His Headmaster seemed somewhat pleased. "You can use this power, Harry," he said. "You can use it to help Draco. Harness your love for him and for your other friends, and use it to defeat Voldemort."
"My what for Draco?" Harry looked confused.
"Your love for him." Harry still looked confused, so Dumbledore explained. "This anger you feel, this need to protect Draco...it's more powerful than the time Hermione was Petrified, is it not?"
Harry thought for a moment. "I was scared for her," he said at last. "But not as scared as I am for Draco..." He looked concerned. "Does that mean I don't care?"
Dumbledore shook his head, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "No. It does show you care. And in different ways..."
"I don't understand."
"You love Hermione like a sister, correct?" A nod from Harry. "And you think you love Draco like a brother?" A slower nod from Harry. "Well, Harry, sometimes the differences between types of love can be blurred."
"What do you mean, Professor?"
The Headmaster smiled. "There are many types of love in this world, my boy. For example, there is the love of family, the love of friendship, and, of course, the love for another with which you would bind your life. Then there are the more obscure types of love. An intense love could be mistaken for hatred, when really, you are just frustrated by your inability to demonstrate that love. Love can be mistaken for fear of a person, when really, you simply fear losing them or fear rejection. It's complicated."
Harry looked completely bewildered. "So...Voldemort's hatred for me is really love?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "No, Harry, that really is a true hatred. Voldemort hates and fears you, for you are one of the few who can bring his reign of terror to its knees."
The boy was silent for a few moments, then he spoke, slowly and hesitantly. "Draco hated me all throughout school...and I hated him a few times as well. Are you saying..." His voice trailed off for a moment, then he continued, almost whispering. "Are you saying...we love each other?"
Dumbledore stood, and went over to Fawkes' perch. The phoenix chirped lightly, as his master's hand stroked his feathers. "I'm not saying anything is certain," he said cautiously. "But things do seem to point to that conclusion."
"But I'm straight!"
Dumbledore turned. "Being straight has nothing to do with it, Harry. When you love someone, it doesn't matter who they are, or what their gender is. It's who they are, what makes them...them."
Harry looked down at his lap, mind whirling. Did he really love Draco? And why now? Why, after five years, was he suddenly feeling so confused?
"There could be other explanations, Harry, but the simplest one is this. Think about it for a moment. Maybe you two are meant to be together. If that's the case, then nothing will stop Fate from having her way, and bringing you two together. Nothing, not even death."
"So we're...meant to be together?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I think so. Research will only tell so much. Give it time...but know that I will be looking for as much information as I can find regarding soulmates."
"Soulmates..." Harry repeated dazedly.
Dumbledore came over to him, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I think that is enough to think about for now...I'll call you when we are ready to continue our talk." Harry nodded feebly, and stood, feeling lightheaded.
The Headmaster watched, torn between amusement and concern, as Harry all but staggered out of his office. "Love is a strange thing," he murmured. Fawkes trilled his agreement.
•••
"You are such a disappointment," Lucius snarled, kicking out once more. He ignored the small sobs echoing in the cell, focusing on his rage instead. "You were given a simple task, Draco. And you failed!"
Draco flinched as his father's voice went even louder on that last word. "I'm sorry, Father," he whispered.
"No. Sorry isn't enough anymore, boy! You aren't even worthy of being my son. I'm sick and tired of your useless whimpers and excuses, and your pathetic attempts to do as you're told. You're fortunate the Dark lord hasn't killed you yet. You're fortunate he has something else in mind..."
Draco risked a look at his father's face, and what he saw made a chill go up his spine. Lucius' face, amongst the rage, wore a menacing smirk, and his chuckle was ominous. It did not bode well.
"Oh yes...we will strike at Potter, in a way he will least expect..."
Fear filled Draco, but it wasn't for himself. It was for Harry.
He'll be safe...he has to be...he won't come for me...he can't! Stay away, Harry...if you can hear me, stay away! Don't let them find you...
Harry had to stay safe, if only to give him a bit of hope in this dark despair.
Draco curled into a tighter ball, as his father left the dungeons, carefully warding his son's cell. Finally, the footsteps faded, and he was alone again.
His father hated him...and Draco couldn't figure out why. He'd always tried so hard to please his father, to elicit one small word of praise...but all in vain. He didn't remember the last time he heard his father speak highly of him, or speak a kind word. Nothing came out of his father's mouth, except curses and hateful venom.
Realization struck Draco. It's not my fault, he thought, remembering Harry's words.
"It isn't your fault, Draco. Your father is just a bitter man. Whether it's due to his past, or because of something else, he is cold and bitter. It's not your fault."
And right then, Draco understood. His father had his own worries to deal with, his own past hurts. This was the only way he knew how to deal with that pain: by taking it out on Draco. It was no excuse, but it helped Draco understand.
Didn't mean he liked his father any more. I can't let go of what he's done, Draco thought, feelings of betrayal welling up in him. Struggling or not, he should not have allowed those things to happen to me...he was supposed to protect me...he's failed me. I can't trust him anymore...I can only trust...
Only one person came to mind, and Draco choked back a sob.
Harry, save me, he thought, fear and sorrow enveloping him like the darkness that surrounded him.
•••
Silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional turning of a page, and the murmured, "This isn't helpful..."
Hermione sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, Ronald," she snapped. "We aren't going to find something instantly..."
Ron slammed his book closed. The title was faded away, but it still read Gringott's: How It Came About.
Harry glanced at his own book The Defenses of Gringott's. "Hermione, we've been searching for ages...Forget instantly. We aren't even going to find anything tonight." He leaned forward, his elbows propped on the table and his face hidden in his hands. "There is just no way to break into Gringott's."
Hermione frowned. "It does seem that way," she murmured. "The only way I've been able to think of is getting Draco to open his vault...and he might not even have his key, which makes it necessary for us to get it from his father...which is dangerous in and of itself."
"And Draco's not here." Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes saddened. She reached out, and rested a gentle hand on arm.
"We'll get him back, Harry..." she said.
"When?" Harry lowered his hands, so he could look at her. "You keep saying that, but when? We keep getting distracted. We tried brainstorming a few ideas, but that was it. No more mention of it. And now we have Horcruxes to worry about..." He slammed a fist on the table, thankful for the Silencing charm that allowed them to talk freely in the library. "Time is running out for Draco. Voldemort isn't going to keep him around forever..."
Ron leaned forward too. "Harry, we don't even know where he's being held! And if we did, I'm sure You-Kno-"
"Voldemort."
"...I'm sure he has heavy security. He'll be expecting a rescue mission!"
"Not if it's just us." Ron and Hermione were silent, as Harry continued. "I'm sure that they're holding Draco in Malfoy Manor. It's the only place they have at their disposal right now! And Draco told me about all the secret passages he explored as a young boy. I think I can get us in, undetected."
Hermione was against the idea. "Harry, there is more that is likely to go wrong that way. If we get caught, no one knows where we are. And we won't have backup!"
"We won't need backup if all goes according to plan..."
"And what's to say it will?"
Harry rolled his eyes, and his mouth opened again, but Ron interrupted him. "C'mon, Hermione. I think this is the best idea yet. Voldemort will be expecting a party of Aurors. Not the three of us sneaking in some back way."
Harry snapped his fingers. "That's it!" Hermione and Ron leaned closer, Hermione a bit hesitant. "We have a group of Aurors form a distraction, trip the wards or something, to keep Voldemort's focus on them. Then we sneak in through the passage I know of, and we don't have to worry about them being alerted to our presence. With the Aurors already tripping off the wards, what is three more people?"
Ron was enthusiastic about the idea. Hermione thought for a few moments, then agreed. "I guess it's a good idea," she admitted.
"Tomorrow. We attack tomorrow."
"What?" Both Ron and Hermione now looked askance. Harry shrugged.
"The sooner, the better. Draco's life is at stake here. We gotta get him out of there, as soon as possible. And there is less time for Voldemort to catch wind of our plans. He won't know what hit him."
Hermione sighed. "Fine. I'll go talk to Dumbledore, and see what he can do. What if he disagrees?"
"Then we go ahead anyways. There's more than one passage down there. All we need to do is find them."