Chapter 26: The Traitor
Theo fidgeted nervously beside Snape. He was making a considerable effort not to allow eye contact with anyone, while actively fighting not to appear suspicious. He doubted he was successful on either count. Theo was not a particularly gifted actor – unlike Severus Snape, of course. Theo would never understand how the man could be so inexplicably calm in the face of the storm that they both knew was undoubtedly coming.
Maybe it came from a lifetime of weathering storms, Theo thought, eyeing Snape's hooded eyes. The rather unfortunate professor had certainly had enough practice.
"What do you mean Malfoy is alive?" Fred demanded, rising to his feet. "How is that possible? And if that's true – "
" – if that's true, why wouldn't Harry deny the murder accusations?" George prompted, joining his twin.
Lupin, who was standing beside Theo and Snape, let his head loll back wearily. "Oh, no," he said, sighing quietly. "Oh no."
Theo's eyes flicked to his former professor, smirking at the rather morose reaction. "Something you'd like to share?"
The heads of every Order member in the room swiveled to face them.
"Go on," Theo prompted airily, lifting his chin with impatience.
"I saw him," Lupin mumbled, his eyes falling to his rather weathered shoes. He shook his head and then looked up, addressing the others. "I saw Draco Malfoy, but I didn't realize it at the time – "
" – you didn't realize?" Fred echoed, his voice rising. "You saw a rather notoriously dead person and didn't think to tell anyone?"
"Where was he?" George asked drily, casually leaning back to feign disinterest. "In line at Flourish and Botts? Just having a pint at the Three Broomsticks?"
"No." Lupin looked down again, and even Theo felt himself frown suspiciously. "I saw him with the others." He shook his head. "He was with Harry, Ron, and Hermione."
"What?" Molly shrieked, promptly dropping the cup of tea she was holding. "You saw them? You saw Harry and Ron?"
The twins spoke in unison. "When?"
Lupin looked supremely uncomfortable, and Theo might have paused to pity him if he weren't rather eager to hear his response. "The night of the attack," Lupin said quietly. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione were upstairs, with a fourth person I'm realizing now must have been the Malfoy boy."
"It didn't seem worth mentioning?" Theo asked skeptically, and the twins nodded vigorously.
"Yeah - "
"Let Remus explain himself," Arthur interrupted coolly, flashing his sons a quieting look.
Theo had to hand it to him; Arthur Weasley was a rather unexpectedly impressive figure, an observation which occurred to Theo even in the face of his significantly more pressing concerns. The Weasley patriarch, despite his rather soft demeanor, certainly possessed the kind of admiration from his sons that Lucius had once commanded from Draco.
A very long time ago, of course.
"Harry asked that I not alert anyone to his presence," Lupin explained defensively. "It was not my place to do otherwise - "
"You followed the instructions of a teenage boy?" Molly chided him, scowling. "You should have brought him here, to us - "
"It was not my place to do so," Lupin repeated coolly, cutting her off. "He was no more willing to share the truth of his situation that night than he was when he left Hogwarts."
"How did they explain Draco?" Theo asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Who did they say he was?"
Lupin pursed his lips, thinking. "They must have coloured his hair," he commented. "And given him glasses. I hadn't seen him since I taught at Hogwarts, of course, so it was hardly likely I would recognize him without his signature features - "
Theo privately disagreed. Draco's hair was darkened, yes, but there was no disguising the grey eyes, or the distinctly haughty air that were widely known as the Malfoy birthright.
" - and they called him Darcy, I think - Geraint Darcy - "
Theo smiled, just as Snape snickered.
"What?" Fred asked, frowning at them.
"Geraint," Theo said, warmed at the thought. "It's a reference to one of the knights of King Arthur. A game we played as kids." He looked at Lupin and shrugged. "If you'd told me that, I would have known it was him."
"Darcy is a character from popular muggle literature," Snape contributed, flinching a little as though reacting to a painful memory. Theo realized that Snape, who still resided in a muggle neighborhood, would likely have been the only one to recognize the reference. "The character is a rather famously unpleasant aristocrat," Snape added, and at the comparison, his expression changed, taking on a faint haze of general amusement. "Miss Granger's influence, I'm sure."
"Ah." Lupin looked down shamefully. "I didn't question it at the time - there were too many other things going on - "
"I'm sure they were counting on that," Snape said in a low voice, and if Theo hadn't known better, he might have thought Snape was attempting to reassure the man. The grumbling around them seemed to indicate that Lupin's decision to support Potter's demand for silence was unanimously unpopular, and Theo could hardly blame them.
Lupin looked at Snape gratefully. "Speculation wouldn't have helped," he added, an attempt at a defense. It was a very solid point, though he was fumbling rather helplessly in Theo's estimation.
"Still seems like it would have been worth mentioning," Fred muttered, and George nodded his stoic agreement.
"They're only children," Molly reminded Lupin, wringing her hands. "If you had just told us - "
"I'm not sure it's in our best interest to focus on whether or not Remus should have shared his suspicions," Arthur told his wife gently, turning to look at Snape. "Perhaps we should focus our attention on what, if anything, this changes for us."
"Yes," Bill said, nodding vehemently. "Agreed."
Lupin looked at Snape. "What does he know?"
Snape cleared his throat carefully before answering, giving Theo a telling glance. "Sybill Trelawney delivered a prophecy while in the company of the Dark Lord that indicated that the Malfoy Heir remained alive and at large, traveling with Potter," he said robotically. "Employing his prodigious use of legilimency, the Dark Lord was able to ascertain that Draco Malfoy is, indeed, still alive."
Lupin looked sharply at Theo. "You had suspected he was alive," Lupin prompted. "Did you know any of this?"
"No," Theo said simply.
They waited, but Theo did not elaborate. He knew better.
"This only brings us back to the question that if Harry is with Malfoy," Fred said slowly, "and, presumably, covering for him - "
" - then why take the blame for his death?" George finished, nodding. "I doubt Harry would do something like that if Malfoy had actually killed Dumbledore - "
" - which means it must have been someone else," Fred concluded. "It can't have been Malfoy."
"What reason would Harry have for not coming to the Order?" Bill asked thoughtfully. "Remus, did he give you any explanation?"
"He would not disclose any version of the events," Lupin admitted gloomily. "In retrospect, it did seem like he was protecting someone."
"Or distrustful of someone," Theo ventured. Snape looked at him, and he shrugged.
"Explain that," Fred demanded, and his twin nodded.
"Harry knows he can trust us," George said warily, a warning of sorts.
"Evidently not," Theo pointed out. "Otherwise, what reason would he have for not coming to you? He wasn't seventeen yet, which means he spent a month hiding, with the trace on him - do you really think that was by choice?"
Lupin looked troubled. "If the issue was only that he was protecting Draco Malfoy, surely he would have been able to rely on us."
"Which means," Theo said emphatically, "that there has to be something else he didn't want you to know about."
"Someone else killed Dumbledore," Fred suggested, his voice hushed. "Could it have been Harry?"
"No way," George said vigorously. "Couldn't have been. Couldn't have been any of them."
"Who else would he cover for?" Bill asked, somewhat dazed. He looked to his father, who looked haunted. "Who else would he risk his life for?"
"Or," Theo said loudly, his heart thudding in his chest as he turned to Snape. "Who did he have doubts about?"
The air seemed to suddenly grow cold.
"Severus," Lupin said quietly. "What does he mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean," Theo said loudly. "Who told you lot about what happened that night? Who reported to the Dark Lord? Who do both sides get their information from?"
"Theo," Snape warned, his voice dangerously low.
"There's only one person who was there that night who saw what happened and came out unscathed. Only one fucking person could have known." He tried not to fidget, his stomach plummeting as he rounded on Snape. "Tell the truth, Severus. Tell us the fucking truth."
Fred leapt to his feet. "He's right," he said, chest heaving. "Nott's right - you know who really killed Dumbledore, don't you?"
"You must," George added, his blue eyes flashing. "And Harry must know that you know."
Theo could see the sudden nods as the members of the Order of the Phoenix began to look at each other, instinctively recoiling from where Snape stood; Theo could hear the collective gasps, the whispers - all the telling indicators of viral, festering mob mentality as it caught on and spread throughout the room.
Theo stood his ground, plunging the knife.
"It was you," Theo said through his teeth. "You killed Dumbledore."
There was an uproar.
"Severus!" Lupin gasped. "You - you didn't - "
"Do you deny it?" Theo asked, crossing his arms. Snape looked around the room, his eyes darting from one loud, accusatory figure to another.
"Theo," he attempted coldly. "You forget yourself - "
"We trusted you!" Fred said, his fingers tightening around his wand. "He trusted you!"
George was shaking his head. "We let you make fools of all of us," he said, grimacing, coming slowly to his feet.
"Boys," Arthur said, his face pale. "Boys, wait - surely - " he looked at Snape, his glance pleading. "Surely there's an explanation - "
"Can you explain it?" Theo asked menacingly, taking a step towards Snape. "Can you? Try, Severus," he snarled. "Just try."
The situation was unraveling. There was a collective surge of panic that had caught fire through the room, and the atmosphere was distinctly unsettled. Unhinged. Explosive.
Precisely as they had intended.
"They can't know," Snape had told Theo, standing in the dark, unpleasant living room of the house on Spinner's End.
"About the prophecy?" Theo asked, seating himself. "You'll have to tell them. They'll need to know. They'll need to be prepared."
"But if it means Granger - " Snape stopped suddenly, his teeth gritted. "If the prophecy is about Granger, and they find out what she's done, with Dumbledore - what she did - "
"You want to protect her," Theo realized, nodding. "Of course." He shivered. "That whole prophecy is fucking - I don't know. Disturbing."
"Yes," Snape agreed, his lip curled in disgust. "Yes, and the Dark Lord is likely to be unduly influenced by it - " He was pacing. "It would not be the first time - "
"Are you sure it's about her?" Theo interrupted, running through the content of the prophecy in his mind. What had it said?
She is not the idle threat that she appears.
Should the Malfoy Heir fall, a power greater and more terrible than this world has ever borne witness will be hers.
"Are you positive it's Granger?" Theo asked again. "It could be - I don't know - it could be Narcissa, couldn't it?"
A conduit of chaos and suffering.
He was thinking of the way the blonde witch had been a shell of herself, wandering her home as though a piece of her soul were missing.
"It could be, or it could be someone else entirely," Snape snapped impatiently. "Claiming to possess knowledge of a prophecy's intent is a fool's endeavor, Theo, I would hardly deign to do so now - "
"Then why not just let it be?" Theo asked, shaking his head. "Why not let the situation play itself out?"
"This is not my first experience with prophecies," Snape retorted angrily. "I know how others will react. I know what others will choose to believe."
Theo understood implicitly that the man was dealing with a painful reminder of his past, and though he hated the effort, Theo chose to refrain from provoking him. He hated even more to have to admit to himself that Snape was probably right.
"We can't let the Order turn on Granger," Theo said adamantly, beginning to seriously consider their options. "We have to do something."
"Once they discover that Draco still lives, they'll question Potter's decision to hide," Snape said. He was fidgeting anxiously, which was thoroughly outside the realm of normalcy for his eerily collected nature. "They'll want to know why."
"So we'll give them a reason," Theo said coolly. "We can manufacture one."
Snape nodded. "We'll have to."
"Okay," Theo said, sighing. "So if, hypothetically, Granger didn't kill Dumbledore, and neither did Draco, for obvious reasons - who else could have done it?"
"Whoever it is, they will surely find it exceedingly difficult - if not thoroughly impossible - to forgive," Snape mumbled. "Whoever it is, it has to be someone who doesn't need the Order's protection."
Theo threw his hands up helplessly. "Who could that be, then?"
Snape stopped mid-stride.
"What?" Theo demanded, eyeing the man's cloaked back. He felt a preemptive rush of displeasure, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.
"Me." Snape spun on the spot. "Me. We'll say it was me."
"What?" Theo exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "You can't - you're their source of information, and you - you've devoted your life to them - "
"They have you now," Snape reminded him. "They don't need me."
"They'll turn on you!" Theo shouted. "They'll - they could fucking kill you!"
Snape shook his head. "They won't kill me." He sighed. "Or at the very least, I'll leave before they try."
"You can't make yourself a traitor," Theo said fearfully. "Fuck, Severus - haven't you gone through enough shit in your life without creating more?"
"It has to be me. It should be me. I am the best option, and the only believable one."
"But - "
"And you will have to be the one to accuse me. I do not doubt they could arrive at the conclusion on their own, unpopular as I am - but to ensure that you have their trust, it will have to be your idea."
"Severus - "
"Don't."
"Fuck. I can't - "
"This way, the Order will have no reason to have any lingering doubt in Potter, Granger, or Draco. Potter will finally have the option to turn to the Order for help. There will be one fewer target on their collective backs."
"Yes, yes, fine - but you - "
"I will be fine."
"But - "
"I will be fine."
"Severus!" Theo was yelling. "You'll undo everything you've done - every sacrifice you've made, it will be for nothing - nobody will know, nobody will understand - "
"You will," he replied flatly. "And I will."
"But - "
"They have you now, Theo. They'll be fine. You'll be in danger, certainly, but no more than before. And you'll have their trust."
Theo gaped at him. "And you?"
"Me?" Snape shrugged. "I will survive." He sat down wearily, looking as though he'd aged several years in the last few minutes alone. "I always do."
"Fuck!" Theo yelled, helplessly aiming a kick at one of Snape's hideous armchairs.
"Be sure to make it convincing," Snape advised, pressing his fingers to his temple.
Which brought them to now.
They looked at each other.
"Well played," Snape mouthed.
"Fuck you," Theo said.
Snape disapparated.
It was over.
. . . . . . . .
"What do we do?" Hermione asked frantically, beginning to pace through the tent. Malfoy had woken them from his nightmare and now she was cold at the thought. "If he knows for sure you're alive - "
"We do nothing," Malfoy said flatly. "There's nothing we can do."
"He's right," Harry agreed, absentmindedly touching his hand to the scar on his forehead.
"What is it?" Hermione demanded, rounding on him as she caught the gesture. "Is he - "
"Nothing," Harry said, wincing. "He's just - kind of agitated."
"You'd tell me if you saw Theo?" Malfoy asked quietly, and Harry nodded.
"He's fine," Harry assured him. "He wasn't there that night. There's no reason for You-Know-Who to suspect him."
"Right," Malfoy agreed, nodding.
"Forget Theo for a minute!" Hermione exclaimed, stomping her foot on the ground. The childish gesture was both a cathartic release of frustration and a means by which to force Malfoy, the very distracted, very endangered love of her life, to refocus. "What about you? What do you mean do nothing?"
"It's just a prophecy, Granger," Malfoy said disdainfully, rubbing at his left wrist. "It doesn't mean anything."
"How can you say that?" Hermione asked, fuming. "And you!" she rounded on Harry. "You of all people should know how seriously You-Know-Who takes prophecies - I assume the Department of Mysteries might still ring a bell - "
"Look," Malfoy interrupted. "The only thing we know for sure about the prophecy is that bad things will happen if I die. Right?"
She hesitated. "Yes, but - "
"Well, good fucking news, Granger, I have no interest in dying," Malfoy declared, sniffing. "The prophecy doesn't change that."
"He's right," Harry said slowly. "As far is we're concerned, nothing has changed."
"The Dark Lord knowing that I'm alive is bad news, yes, but we would always have been in danger if he found any one of us," Malfoy reminded her, reaching out to grip her hand and pulling her gently towards him. "The only thing we can do is to continue to not get caught."
"And destroy more horcruxes," Ron added. He was sitting on the floor, distractedly fiddling with the silver deluminator.
"That's true," Hermione said softly, putting her hands on Malfoy's shoulder as she vacantly chewed her lip. "I guess we should really talk about that."
"We should," Harry agreed. "We still have the element of surprise, if he doesn't know we're hunting them. Once he does - "
"Once he does, every horcrux will become a trap," Malfoy said sharply. "So it's best we figure it out now."
"Okay," Hermione agreed, nodding fervently. "Okay, so what do we have?"
"Four destroyed," Harry said. "Locket, diadem, diary, and ring."
"Which leaves the Hufflepuff cup," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And what else?"
"One more," Harry noted glumly.
"And the Dark Lord himself," Malfoy reminded them. "I assume we'll be saving the most fun for last."
"Yes," Harry said, grimacing. "Dumbledore said we should destroy the horcruxes first so that he will be mortal when I face him."
The phrase "when I face him" did not sit well with Hermione, though she could not put a finger on why.
"Where could the cup be?" Hermione asked, shaking off the lingering moment of doubt. She looked at Malfoy, her usual source for inspiration. "Do you have any idea?"
"Not really," Malfoy said, smoothing his hair back as he marinated on the question. "Old wizarding families like mine usually keep their wealth close to them," he suggested.
"That wouldn't apply to him," Harry said, snorting derisively in response. He was playing with the snitch Dumbledore had left him, tossing it in the air and catching it one-handed. "Tom Riddle was a far cry from a Malfoy."
"Well, where were the others?" Ron asked, frowning with thought. "What other places meant anything to him?"
"The orphanage was one, but I doubt he used that. The cave where the locket was would have been the closest thing," Harry said, shrugging.
"Hogwarts was the most special place to him," Hermione said. "You're sure he wouldn't have kept it there?"
"Doubtful." Malfoy shrugged. "Certainly not in the Room of Hidden Things, and where else would he have put it?"
"The Chamber of Secrets, but I doubt it," Harry added.
"Not every wizarding family keeps their things close to them," Ron said, suddenly reflecting on Malfoy's earlier comment. "What if he just put it somewhere safe?"
Hermione frowned. "Like where?"
"Gringotts." Harry sat up. "Could he have put it in a vault?"
"That is where people tend to go to keep things safe," Malfoy agreed, nodding tentatively.
"Hagrid told me Gringotts was the safest place in the world besides Hogwarts," Harry said, suddenly animated. "And for Tom Riddle, who would have been told the same thing as a muggle kid finding out he was a wizard, he probably thought so, too."
"He wouldn't have his own vault, though," Hermione said skeptically. "Would he?"
"No, and I bet he wanted one," Harry scoffed. "No. But he could be using someone else's."
"Mine." Malfoy sat up rigidly. "Fuck. What if he's using mine?"
"You think?" Hermione asked, wincing as Malfoy's grip suddenly tightened on her hand.
"Well, he's using my house, isn't he?" Malfoy exclaimed loudly, coming to his feet. "He's using my house, using my parents - and I don't doubt for a second that my father would let him use our vault - that's nothing, compared to every other fucking thing the Dark Lord has commandeered from us - "
"That's a rather significant leap, Malfoy," Hermione chided him, putting her hands firmly on his hips and attempting to steady him. His grey eyes were wild with fury.
"He would use my family," Malfoy seethed. "We are everything he wanted to be - everything he pretended to be - "
"It could be someone else," Harry reminded him. "Hermione's right - I mean, it makes sense for it to be your family, but it's still a leap - "
"Who else does he trust?" Ron asked. "Anyone else? The Carrows? Yaxley? Snape?"
Malfoy shook his head. "The only other person would be my aunt Bellatrix," he muttered, still enraged. "The others - maybe, but my guess is that it's in an older vault." He threw himself down onto the bed, resting his head on his hands. "A Sacred Twenty-Eight vault."
Hermione bit her lip. "I hate to agree with that," she said faintly, turning to Harry. "But it does seem his style."
"Let's fucking go to Gringotts," Malfoy erupted violently, picking his head up. "Fuck that psychopath - "
Hermione put her hands on either side of his face, forcing her to look at him. "Draco!"
His grey eyes were unfocused. "What?"
"Draco." She waited until his breathing normalized, lightly stroking her thumb across the smooth line of his jaw. "What happened to staying alive?"
He scowled. "I didn't say anything about - "
"She's right," Ron interjected offhandedly, and Harry nodded.
"We can't just show up at Gringotts," Harry said flatly. "I assume you know that."
Malfoy looked for a moment like he might argue, but ultimately sighed, deflated. "Yes, I know," he conceded, his expression drooping. "But if he already knows I'm alive - and if it's in my vault - "
"If it's there, then yeah, maybe it's worth it," Harry agreed, though Hermione shot him a sharp look of impatience. "If it's there."
She vehemently disagreed - not that it seemed worth saying at this particular moment.
"How would we even figure that out?" Ron asked. "It's not like we could - I don't know - ask someone - "
"Could we get in touch with Theo?" Hermione asked nervously. "Would he know?"
"Doubtful," Malfoy mumbled, still slouched on the bed. "And if he decided to look into it, and then got caught - "
Hermione shivered. "Right," she said quickly. "Scratch that."
"What if we asked someone at Gringotts?" Harry suggested, his gaze sliding curiously to Ron.
"My brother," Ron realized excitedly. "Bill works for Gringotts - "
Hermione did not like this idea in the slightest. The more people who knew their whereabouts, the easier they would be to find, and at the moment, she was finding it difficult to prioritize anything else above keeping Malfoy alive.
Without him . . .
She bristled. She couldn't stomach the thought.
"I highly doubt he has an itemized list of the vaults!" she interrupted, hoping to derail the idea before Ron got too swept up in it.
"Still," Ron said, unable to fight a smile at the prospect. "He could help us figure out who to talk to - put us in touch with a goblin, maybe - "
"Go to the Order?" Malfoy asked, looking questioningly at Harry. "Are you sure about that, after the prophecy?"
The sudden look of doubt that darkened Harry's face was very worrisome to Hermione, despite Malfoy's cryptic statement accomplishing precisely what she'd intended. As much as she wanted to prevent the idea of turning to Bill Weasley from taking root, she found herself doubly concerned by the unknown meaning that Harry seemed to have derived from Malfoy's very ambiguous statement. Once again, she had the distinct feeling that the two of them shared some unspoken vantage point of knowledge that she, for reasons that confounded her, wasn't fully privy to.
"Let's think about this first," she urged, taking a seat next to Malfoy and placing her hand on his knee. "Agree to sleep on it?"
Ron looked disappointed, but offered her a half-hearted nod.
Malfoy shuddered. "Only metaphorically," he grumbled, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm not sure I ever want to sleep again."
She felt a sudden, inexplicable sinking in her stomach as she kissed the top of his head, feeling the soft strands of his hair against her lips as she wrapped her arms around the broad angles of his shoulders. It was the first of many times that such a feeling would occur over the next few days, though ultimately she would stop counting. She ignored it.
They should have just run.
. . . . . . . .
a/n: this chapter is for Sara. Hope you had a happy birthday! Very sorry for the delay, but I needed a longer recovery from my trip than I thought. There will be no such lengthy gaps ahead.
As a palette cleanser, I will begin providing brief drabbles for any darker chapters. If you choose to review this chapter, please let me know whether you would like the first one to be 1) clean or lemony (aka fluff or smut), and 2) Dramione or NottGrass (which is what I've decided I'm calling Theo/Daphne).
FYI: Marked will end on Chapter 37, and you will get at least 3 chapters a week until then.