"Well?"
Draco wrinkles his nose at the parchment, poking it and moving it around with the tip of his wand. "Well," he pauses, looks up from his squatting position at Blaise, who has his arms crossed and an insecure look on his face. "It is not cursed."
"So why won't it burn? Or tear?"
"Whoever sent this to you did not mean any harm. Directly."
"Directly? What's that supposed to mean?"
The blond hesitates. He twists his lips and looks away to Harry, who is standing a few feet away, leaning on the far wall and just observing everything for Draco's safety. Harry nods.
"When I was to deliver the Opal Necklace to Dumbledore, I couldn't directly give it to him, lest my signature be traced and I would have been caught. So I used the Imperius curse on Madame Rosemerta, who was ordered to use the Imperius curse on Katie Bell so she could deliver the necklace to Dumbledore."
Blaise blinks.
"What he's trying to say is that since he used the Imperius curse on someone else to do his work for him, whoever was under the curse was obligated to commit the crime, which in turn makes them innocent," Harry clarifies from his spot. "In that case, whether or not Katie Bell delivered the necklace, she didn't want to hurt Dumbledore directly, as she was forced to do the deed. In that case was different, though, because the object being delivered was cursed. Here, it's not. Someone sent someone else to put the paper here, so even if we were to trace the signature, we'd hit a dead end."
"Right," Draco points to his mate. Then he turns and gives him a beaming smile. "Thank you."
"This is a threat," Ron speaks up for the first time, his eyebrows knitted in frustration. "It doesn't matter where it came from or who it came from. This is a threat to his safety."
"I never said it was not," Draco defends. "He wished to know if the note was cursed. I answered the question."
"Okay," the redhead rolls his eyes impatiently. "But why can't it be destroyed?"
"Seriously," Harry snorts from his space.
"It has a tracking spell implemented into a stasis charm," Draco frowns. "It is impenetrable. I thought you had figured that out."
"Well, I'm not in tune with the magical currents," Ron mocks with a funny voice, which they all choose to ignore.
"Someone wants to track me?"
"Again," Ron says exasperatedly. "A danger to his safety."
The blond ignores the Gryffindor and looks to his best friend. "The note was meant to stay in between your mess of school work. The message on it was a distraction. It was meant for you to panic and carry it around with you in any case you found it instead of disregarding it for one if your papers."
"Well, he found it, and he panicked!"
Blaise furrows his eyebrows at the parchment on the ground. "I should keep it," he reads Draco's mind, eyeing him carefully.
"Have you gone mad!"
"He's right," Harry says, pushing off the wall with his foot and walking closer. "Whoever put this here wants to know where he is at all times during the school day."
"And that's a good idea, how?"
"We stick to Blaise, we have a lead," Harry stares intently at his best friend. "We need to figure out why they're tailing him."
"Right," Ron answers sarcastically. He moves forward and takes Blaise under his arm protectively. "Just like we need to figure out who kidnapped Draco's mother. And who the bloody hell those barmy twins are. And who took Draco himself and just disappeared into thin air."
Harry snarls. "What are you implying?"
"We're just kids! We have no clue what we're doing!We need help, we need to talk to someone who can help us figure this out."
"They're going to do the exact same thing we will. You really want to put more lives at risk? Have you forgotten what happened last time we asked for help," Harry's eyes take on a dangerous glint as he steps closer to Ron, who pushes Blaise behind him instinctively. "Half of the school almost died. Your nightmares are remnants of the damage."
"But...!"
"And if you think I'm going to allow Blaise to get hurt, you're even dumber than you set out to make yourself. He's my Beta. And so are you. We're family, now. If I have to cross the line of fire to protect you, you better bet I will."
Ron purses his lips, his eyes holding just as much emotion as Harry's. And then he nods.
The Alpha steps back, moves his hand around behind him to take Draco's. "We'll talk about this later tonight. When Hermione's done with her practice exams and can be the level head."
*******
Blaise is sitting on his made bed, his knees drawn to his chest and his body turned towards his desk where a lone parchment lays flat on the surface.
His eyes burn a hole into it, never moving, and he hopes his glare will set it to flames even though he knows it most definitely will not catch fire.
"You alright there," the Gryffindor chirps from the corner, and one of Blaise's eyes twitches at the light tone in his voice. "Blaise?"
"Fine, Longbottom," the Slytherin grits out. "Just dandy."
"You know, thinking about the problem will consume your train of thought. It's better if you find something to do with your time."
Breathe, Blaise tells himself, sparing a glance at the ceiling in a praying manner. "And, pray, tell what can occupy me?"
He doesn't see it happen, but he knows Neville shrugs his shoulders lightly. He knows it. The dense fool. "Playing cards? A game of Wizard's chess? We can go fly our brooms in the Pitch."
"The Pitch is off limits during the Holidays. Not to mention it's January. It's freezing outside."
"Uh," Neville scoffs loudly. "You're a wizard? There's something called a warming charm? I thought Slytherins were supposed to be clever."
"I don't see the appeal in wasting time outside and renewing warming charms every ten minutes."
"We can go to the library?"
"I've already read most of the books there."
Blaise spares the Gryffindor a look just in time to see him nod softly as he looks at his lap, but looking far from bothered or annoyed. Blaise is secretly impressed. He's caught like a deer in headlights when Neville decides to look up and offer him the softest smile he's ever been graced with.
"I heard you and Ron fixed some greenhouses."
"Oh," Blaise exhales softly, the parchment long forgotten and his detention with Ron taking up all the space at the front of his mind. He grins. "Yeah."
"Professor Sprout is in Germany, looking for some indigenous spiny shrub or somewhat," Neville shrugs, looking out the window. "Don't reckon she knows they're getting fixed, reckon she thought she'd have to do it herself."
"I don't see why. We caused more damage..."
"They caused the damage," Neville interrupts, his eyes set and firm and Blaise is astounded because who is this Neville Longbottom? "You weren't part of it, why do you keep trying to put yourself on their side?"
Blaise shrugs. "I live in the shadow of my mother, who, despite her liberal stance in the war, still didn't oppose to clearing the world of anyone who wasn't a pure-blood. She also didn't oppose to half-bloods, didn't really voice her opinions, that woman."
"You live in the shadow of no one. You just haven't found your own light."
"My own," Blaise blinks at Neville, lost. "My own light?"
"Yeah," Neville nods, extending his arms out. "You know. Your own standing. Your pedestal. You take one thing, one thing in the entire world that makes you want to make a difference, right?"
Blaise nods along, interested in the Gryffindor.
"Right. You take that, you put in a box, and you just start putting more and more effort into it as you go. And then one day you get to open it and show it to the world and say, 'This, this box right here, this is mine.' And you ignore what anyone else thinks or says because only you know what you did, what you've been through.
"That's what you need to do."
"My own light," Blaise repeats, enlightened.
"Yeah," Neville chirps happily. "Like, Hermione wants to give elves the opportunity of free will. And...And Luna wants to take over the Quibbler. I want to be Professor Sprout's apprentice and someday take over when she retires. Ron wants to enforce the law."
"But," the Slytherin frowns. "How can I do that with my mother at my back?"
"Ignore her," the boy shrugs. "She found her own light. She wants to show people she's determined to find love, and she's doing a mighty well job of showing it."
"I don't know if I should be amused or offended that you complimented and insulted my mother in the same sentence."
"All I'm saying," Neville says loudly, a light blush tinting his cheeks. "Is that you had no part in the opposing side of the war. That's why you're here and not on house arrest, or in Azkaban. You're free to do what you bloody-well please. So do it."
It's an odd feeling, having a Gryffindor assure a Slytherin they aren't at fault, with what the whole years of rivalry. But Blaise finds certain appeal to it, the irony makes him think that maybe they're not supposed to be rivals. Maybe they just live in the shadow of old grumpy men, who, for all he knows could have been lovers and had a nasty falling out.
"Thanks," Blaise mumbles shyly at Neville but amused within his own thoughts. "And how come you suddenly appear?"
Neville's brows furrows. "Appear? What do you mean?"
"When we started helping Ron, it was that. Only Ron. I'd expected to get bombarded with a wall of Gryffindors knocking on my door with pitchforks and fire."
"Wow," Neville blows out air and lifts his brows. "You are dramatic."
"Well?"
"Ron told us not to bother you. He said to stay away from both of you until Harry came back, and then Harry would have the final say. Which, we all know Harry wouldn't condone bullying you, so we just stayed away."
"Just you and Luna?"
"Seamus keeps to himself most days. Ever since Dean went into hiding, he hasn't particularly been the...life of the party."
"Best friends?"
An amused smile twitches on Neville's lips. "Something like that."
"And the rest of Gryffindor?"
"We keep to ourselves. Do our work, take our exams. How it should be. You lot seem to be the only ones who like looking for trouble."
"Don't forget you're part of this lot."
"Unfortunately," Neville sighs.
"And why are you the one babysitting me? Thought it'd be Hermione, maybe Draco."
"They need Hermione for the brains. And Draco's the bait. And I know just as much about Veelas as the rest of them, so best choice."
"I'm not a Veela," Blaise frowns.
"Not by blood. Or by bond, for that matter. You're linked to Draco and Harry, as the Alpha's Honor."
"Linked?"
"Yeah. Like. Like nobility, yes? Harry and Draco are the King and Queen, let's say. The next line of nobles would be Prince and Princess, which would be you and Ron. And then it's Duke and Duchess, which would be reserved for Hermione and her significant other."
"And you and Luna?"
"The next line. Uh, Marquess and Marchioness, I think. We all fall into a space, as long as Harry allows it. They're at the top of the food chain, though, so anyone in the colony is linked to them. Even Luna and I, whose positions are at the bottom."
"What do you mean by linked?"
Neville sighs, bores his eyes into Blaise's for a few seconds. "You're a bit slow, yeah?"
"Longbottom."
"You're part of a family, a magical family, Blaise. Harry and Draco are the mum and dad. If you're in trouble, they'll know. If you're sad, they'll know. If Harry wanted to, he'd know where you are every second of every day. You're internally linked to him, as well, as his Honor. He can talk to you in your head from close range. He's one of the most powerful wizards on the planet, and now he's one of the strongest magical creatures to ever exist. A little more reading would do you some good, you know."