The Champion's Legacy

Chapter 20: Draco's Story

Author's Note: Many apologies for the delay in uploading. I'm trying to stick to a weekly upload schedule, but that requires me to finish writing a new chapter every week (with a constant buffer, just in case). Work and real life got in the way, this time, and this may continue until the end of March 2024. Sorry about that - I'll do my best to write and upload as regularly as I can.

As for this chapter, I found Draco Malfoy to be a fun character to write, but extremely challenging too. Having to think what he might say at a given moment was incredibly difficult. Either way, I sort of like the way he's turned out. I hope you do too!

This chapter has not been proofread by a beta. All mistakes that you may notice are my own.

Disclaimer: Recognisable portions in this chapter have been taken from the Harry Potter series, by J.K. Rowling. I neither own nor intend to make any profit from the use of Harry Potter and associated characters of the series, in my story.

Previously on "The Champion's Legacy"…

The Room was rent with shouts of 'Expelliarmus!' Wands flew in all directions, some people stumbled while others were knocked off their feet, missed spells hit the walls or the bookshelves, causing books to be dislodged from their places and sent flying into the air. Daphne could see that very few people had actually mastered the charm. Harry seemed to have noticed it too; she heard him sigh.

'Time to go, Professor,' she said, nudging him with her hip and grinning.

Harry mock-scowled at her but nodded. He bent down and kissed her quickly on the cheek before heading towards the duelling pairs around the room.

She sighed, watching him go – but it could not be more different from an expression of exasperation. Being by his side was the best decision she had taken in her life, and she vowed to stay beside him for as long as she could.

'That went well,' remarked Ron. Harry nodded in agreement.

They were walking back to Gryffindor Tower after the DA session, following the last few people from their House from the Room of Requirement. Most of them were talking excitedly to each other; Harry caught snippets of their conversations, most of which sounded appreciative of what he had done that evening.

He felt a swooping sensation in his stomach as he listened to them: finally, he was being appreciated for something he had done that didn't involve luck or someone's death or escape. Oh, he was fully aware that this was just their first session, that it was a tightly controlled environment without the suddenness or ruthlessness of attacks that could happen in the real world, and that they had only practised a basic charm today. He had stressed on that point repeatedly during their time in the Room.

'You've got to understand,' he had told everyone during a break in spellcasting, 'that what we're doing here is very different from what's out there. You won't get the chance to think about your spell, and your opponent isn't going to wait for you to get your wand back before cursing you. It's not just about memorising a bunch of spells and throwing them at your enemy. You've got to stay focused and give it everything you've got with everything you know. It's like what Professor Moody told us: constant vigilance.'

Everyone had nodded solemnly at these words, then returned to their practice with more determination than ever.

But still…to have so many people listen to him, even believe him…

'Mimbulus mimbletonia,' said Ron, bringing Harry back to the present. The Fat Lady swung open, and Harry followed Ron in scrambling through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room.

It was dark outside. Harry could see a brilliant array of stars dotted across the night sky as he passed the windows. His spirits lifted a little – the stars being visible meant that the cloudy weather had eased up, promising better weather for their Quidditch practice tomorrow. Unfortunately, his good mood came back to Earth with a painful jolt as his eyes made out the outline of Hagrid's hut: it was still empty, with no light emanating from behind the curtained windows.

'You don't think something's, well, happened to him, do you?' asked Hermione anxiously.

'Someone would have told us about it,' said Ron, although he didn't sound too convinced.

'I'll ask Snuffles about it tonight,' said Harry. 'I want to tell him about our first session.'

The three of them sat down on their favourite armchairs by the fire.

'D'you think Blaise was right?' asked Hermione. 'About not writing our name on that list?'

She glanced around quickly as she spoke, but they were quite alone and not in danger of being overheard.

'Probably just the usual Slytherin paranoia,' said Ron, shrugging.

'He said it would be better not to have it anywhere in writing,' said Harry. 'Maybe he thinks someone would show that piece of parchment to Umbridge or the Ministry.'

'But who would want to do that?' asked Hermione, frowning. 'I thought everyone wanted to be there.'

'Not everyone,' said Harry grimly, remembering Cho Chang's friend. 'Some of them only turned up because their friends joined.'

'Probably the same people who didn't like the D.A. just because Adrian came up with it,' remarked Ron with a snort.

'Hmm,' said Hermione thoughtfully, her gaze unfocused as she stared out the window.

They were silent for a few moments. Harry and Ron idly watched Fred and George entertaining a small group with what looked like their latest Weasley product, which involved one of them abruptly dropping to the floor in a dead faint after popping a sweet in their mouth.

'Anyway,' said Hermione suddenly, catching Harry and Ron's attention, 'what did Daphne say to you about tomorrow's meeting, Harry?'

It was Harry's turn to look around now, but almost everyone was focused on the twins' antics. He turned back to Hermione.

'She wants me to be there,' he said quietly.

Ron and Hermione gaped at him.

'I thought it was going to be just Malfoy and Daphne,' said Ron after a moment. 'Why does she want you to be there?'

'No idea,' said Harry, shrugging, which was perfectly true. He had no indication of what Daphne wanted with his presence in that meeting.

'As long as it doesn't spoil the meeting, I guess,' said Hermione slowly.

'Malfoy, not ruin the meeting when Harry's there?' asked Ron incredulously. 'You've got to be joking…'

Just as they had planned, a note had been sent to Malfoy at breakfast using a regular school owl. Terence had voiced the possibility of using Malfoy's owl, but the others had shot it down; it would have been too risky to get him to deliver it since, as far as any of them knew, only his parents wrote to Malfoy with his owl.

Harry had taken a seat at the Gryffindor table which afforded him a perfect vantage point to watch Malfoy. He had also specifically requested Neville to sit directly opposite him so that he could keep an eye on Malfoy's reaction without being too conspicuous about it. This the other Gryffindor did, although he seemed very bewildered with the precise ask, especially since Harry had not told him why he had to sit there in the first place.

'Are you okay, Harry?' Neville had asked concernedly when Harry had glanced over to Neville's right for the third time that morning, to see if Malfoy had received the letter yet.

'What?' said Harry distractedly. 'No, yeah, I'm fine, Neville.'

Neville gave him a curious look but did not press the point.

'Aha!' muttered Harry under his breath. The post had just arrived, and the school owl chosen by Adrian had fluttered down to where Malfoy was seated at the Slytherin table. As Harry watched, the blond frowned at the owl before taking the letter that was tied to its leg.

Tonight, at eight o'clock. Seventh-floor corridor near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Come alone.

Daphne Greengrass

Malfoy's eyes sped across the parchment, still frowning. The moment he reached the signature, Harry saw him look along the Slytherin table immediately. As was planned, though, Daphne was not at breakfast that day, having chosen to eat in the kitchens with Tracey and Millicent. Harry's eyes slid from Malfoy to Adrian and Terence, who were there and as planned, were currently having a heated discussion about the Quidditch league.

A few moments later, Malfoy placed the parchment in the pocket of his robes, stood up, and exited the Hall.

Harry let out a breath he had not known he had been holding. They had crossed their first hurdle – ensuring that Malfoy got the message. Now it was a matter of hoping that he showed up. Harry looked back at Adrian, who had been following Malfoy's exit from the Hall. Terence caught his gaze and nodded swiftly.

Job done.

At a quarter to eight that evening, Harry met with Daphne and Tracey outside the Room of Requirement. Daphne, understandably, looked a little nervous.

'You'll be fine,' Tracey told her reassuringly.

'I'm still not sure why you need me there,' said Harry, but he extracted his Invisibility Cloak from his bag, nevertheless.

'I just think he'll be more amenable to listen to me if you're there,' said Daphne.

Harry doubted very much that Malfoy would want anything to do with him, but he decided not to express that thought out loud.

They milled around the corridor until it was almost eight o'clock, and then Tracey left for the library, leaving them alone.

'Are you okay?' asked Harry, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her closer for a side hug. He felt her nod as she leaned into his chest. They remained standing there, side by side, for a few moments.

'Let's get ready,' murmured Daphne, finally pulling away.

Harry swung the Invisibility Cloak over him and retreated a few paces away while Daphne did the customary three passes across the blank stretch of wall. Just as the entrance to the Room materialised out of solid brick, they heard echoing footsteps from down the corridor.

Harry checked that Cloak was fully covering him, then glanced at his watch. It was exactly eight o'clock.

Draco Malfoy came into view, one hand clutching a piece of parchment which Harry took to be the letter he had received that morning, while the other was in the pocket of his robes, no doubt grasped around his wand. Despite it being the new norm that year, Harry still found it very odd to see Malfoy alone, without the company of Crabbe and Goyle.

'Greengrass,' he said, spotting her and stopping short; Harry saw his eyes flicker to the door behind Daphne and back.

'Malfoy,' she replied. Harry was pleased to not hear any note of panic or worry in her voice.

'What's this about, Greengrass?'

'Let's get inside, shall we? I'd rather not have this discussion out in the open.'

Daphne indicated the door behind her. Malfoy looked warily at the golden handle of the door but nodded. His hand was still inside the pocket of his robes as he crossed the threshold.

Harry quietly followed them into the Room of Requirement, resisting the urge to let out a low impressed whistle. Daphne had really thought of the perfect setting for their conversation. It looked rather like the Slytherin common room – from what Harry remembered of it from his visit in his second year – but without the greenish hue that came from the lake and the low-hanging lamps, or the elaborately carved mantelpiece above the fireplace. Instead, the high windows along the far wall provided a spectacular view of the mountains surrounding Hogsmeade, while the mantelpiece looked unfamiliar. Harry suspected it was like the one Daphne had at her house.

Two comfortable-looking armchairs were set in front of the merrily crackling fire, which provided most of the illumination for the room. The waning moon that hung in the sky – just visible through the windows – was reflected in the still waters of the lake below.

Malfoy did his best to hide his surprise, rearranging his features to a more neutral expression as he and Daphne took their seats. Harry retreated to a shadowy corner – which afforded him a good view of the two Slytherins – and waited.

'What is this place?' asked Malfoy, his curiosity evidently piqued.

'Just a room I found this term,' said Daphne evasively. Her sapphire blue eyes were fixed on Malfoy's grey ones, which had narrowed at the vague answer.

'You just – found this room?' The tone was unmistakably sceptical.

'Yes, I did,' replied Daphne at once. 'But it is not the focus of our conversation tonight.'

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the obvious attempt to change the subject – and indeed, dictate the terms of the interaction – but he did not object, much to Harry's relief. Instead, he waved the piece of parchment that was still in his hand.

'Very…subtle,' he added with a sneer. The sarcasm was hard to miss.

'Not an adjective I'd use for your reaction,' Daphne shot back. Harry grinned as Malfoy flushed, looking embarrassed.

'How did you –'

'I have my sources.'

Malfoy scowled at her. Harry could tell he was deliberating on asking who those sources were but thought the better of it. Evidently, his curiosity about the reasons for Daphne's summons triumphed over his desire to know her sources.

'What do you want, Greengrass?' he said sullenly, after a few moments.

Daphne took a steadying breath. Unbeknownst to himself, Harry did the same.

'An alliance.'

There was silence for a few more seconds.

'An alliance?' Malfoy repeated, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on the armrests. Harry had to admit he cut an impressive figure with his poise, despite not having any context to the discussion. 'Why?'

Daphne allowed a hint of exasperation to mar her features.

'Surely you know why, Malfoy.'

'I'm sure I do, but I'd rather you confirm my guess than have me grasping at straws.'

'Have a guess, then.'

'Let us not play any games here, Greengrass,' said Malfoy, a hint of impatience in his tone. 'You all but demanded that I turn up here without any warning or information about what we were to discuss – for all I know, it could have been an ambush, or a trap, no doubt concocted by your new Gryffindor friends,' he almost sneered the last word; Harry clenched his fists convulsively, 'so I think I have the right to demand why you called this clandestine meeting in the first place.'

As much as he hated Malfoy, Harry had to grudgingly admit that the Slytherin prefect had a point. They had asked Malfoy to come in blind to this meeting and had not offered him anything that would have convinced him to stay. Daphne would have to give him a solid reason to continue the conversation – Harry hoped it would be enough.

Daphne had the faintest of creases between her eyebrows – Harry recognised it as a tell for her growing annoyance. It had been a common fixture during their initial Occlumency lessons.

It's okay, Daph, he thought. Let it go.

He watched, smiling softly, as his Slytherin girlfriend took another steadying breath – one of the many Occlumency techniques they had learnt from Mr Greengrass.

At last, she said in a clear voice, 'To ensure Nott doesn't get control of Slytherin House.'

Harry had been looking at Daphne with such admiration that he almost missed Malfoy's reaction to her words. The blonde boy had clenched his fists – no doubt involuntarily – while his face had betrayed the briefest of irritated scowls. A moment later, however, his haughty expression returned, his hands unclenched, his gaze unflinching and appraising.

Harry found himself unwillingly admiring Malfoy for his emotional control; he gave himself a little shake to disabuse himself of that unusual feeling.

Damn, he's good.

'I see,' said Malfoy slowly.

Both Slytherins sat back and waited, their expressions giving nothing away. The crease on Daphne's forehead had disappeared; she was now looking directly at Malfoy, her poise and posture projecting an image of confidence and authority. As for Malfoy, Harry knew he would be more difficult to read than a book written entirely in Ancient Runes.

Harry found himself a spectator to this other side of Slytherin conversational tactics. He had observed the deftness of conversational manoeuvrability during his hearing as Mr Greengrass ensured that the discussion was on his terms and went exactly where he wanted it to go. This strategy – waiting for the other party to move first – was new to him, but he could tell that it was just as effective. He could also tell that the direction of this meeting would hinge heavily on the next words to be spoken, and the person who would say those words.

As the silence stretched from comfortable to calculated, Harry resisted the urge to fidget. His legs were starting to stiffen as he remained standing in the shadowy corner of the Room. Vaguely, he wondered what Ron would have done if he had been in Harry's position.

Probably charged out from under the Cloak to curse Malfoy.

Harry stifled an unexpected snigger at that thought – and thankfully at just the right time, too, for Malfoy had opened his mouth to speak.

'What makes you think Nott will succeed in doing so?'

Daphne raised a curious eyebrow.

'Why do you think he wouldn't?'

Harry found it an odd question to ask, but in the few moments it took for Malfoy to respond, he grasped its value: until now, they had assumed that Malfoy had lost the support of most of the Slytherins. What if it had been a ruse all along, and Malfoy was still in charge, but giving the appearance that he was not? Or worse, what if Nott and Malfoy were, in fact, working together, just like their fathers were fellow Death Eaters?

Had they miscalculated? Were they walking into a trap?

The fear that had bubbled inside Harry's chest was immediately quelled with Malfoy's reply.

'He is a mediocre wizard who lacks proper pride,' said Malfoy disdainfully. 'The same can be said of his father, although the less said about that man, the better. The fools who follow Nott will soon realise the error of their ways.'

It was probably the most candid expression of feelings that Harry had ever seen Malfoy make. The contempt that he had for Nott and his father was blatantly evident now if it had not been so before.

Harry glanced at Daphne. She looked intrigued by Malfoy's words.

'It sounds like you have a plan of your own,' said Daphne lightly.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes once more, his gaze shrewd and calculated.

'I think we must dispense with this dance, Greengrass,' he said. 'You talk of an alliance, yet you seem interested in knowing if I have a plan to prevent Nott from controlling our House. We will achieve nothing with these riddles and circular conversations.'

Daphne looked at Malfoy, and unless Harry was much mistaken, she looked a little…hopeful.

'You are correct,' she said after a pause. 'There is no use if we remain guarded and secretive. We must be open and honest with each other,' she hesitated for a fraction, then said, 'Draco.'

Harry was so absorbed with Malfoy's surprised reaction to being addressed by his first name that he nearly missed Daphne's next words.

'It is time to come out of the shadows.'

Harry snapped his gaze to Daphne so fast, he almost cricked his neck. The statement was their agreed-upon phrase to get Harry into the conversation with Malfoy. Ideally, he had hoped that it would not have been used; realistically, he had expected this to happen much later in the meeting. Now, he gaped at Daphne from under the Cloak for a full five seconds, wondering if this was the right move from them.

At last, with a quiet resigned sigh to himself, he pulled the Cloak off and stepped into the firelight.

Predictably, Malfoy jumped to his feet at the sight of Harry, his wand drawn and raised, pointing directly at Harry's chest. Immediately, Daphne was on her feet too with her wand out, ready to defend Harry.

'Potter! What the – what is the meaning of this?!' demanded Malfoy, his eyes flitting between Harry and Daphne.

Harry raised his arms in surrender. 'I'm unarmed, Malfoy. I'm not here to fight.'

'Bloody likely!' snarled Malfoy. 'How do I know you don't have your wand in a hidden holster, Potter?'

'Because I don't,' replied Harry, and he was dimly surprised at how calm he sounded, despite the situation. Maybe the Occlumency was working, after all.

Focus…

'Look, my wand is in my pocket,' he continued, 'and I'm going to take it out and put it on the ground, alright?'

Daphne gave him a quick, concerned look, to which Harry gave a swift nod. On most occasions, it would have been foolish to not have his wand when talking to Malfoy, but Harry's instinct told him this was the right thing to do.

With very slow and deliberate movements, and with his eyes focused on the tip of Draco's wand, Harry pulled out his wand from the pocket of his robes and set it on the ground between the three of them.

'There. I have no means of defending myself. Now, can we talk?'

Malfoy glared at the pair of them, the distrust evident in his grey eyes. 'What sort of game are you playing here?'

'No games, Draco,' said Daphne, slowly coming to stand between the two boys. 'This is us being open and honest –'

'Us? Potter's not even in Slytherin,' sneered Malfoy. 'You want to talk about Slytherin House matters with Potter?'

'It's not just about Slytherin,' said Daphne.

'She's right,' said Harry. 'It's about Lord Voldemort, too.'

Apart from the flinch that came at the sound of the name, for the first time that evening, Malfoy looked dumbfounded – which was probably a good thing, as he entirely missed the Room creating another armchair, no doubt responding to Daphne's thoughts.

'Let's just sit down and talk,' said Daphne, and she retook her seat. Malfoy still seemed preoccupied with the sudden turn of events as he dropped into his armchair. Harry slowly sat in his, watching Malfoy's expression closely.

Finally, Malfoy seemed to regain some control and said, 'If you're looking for information, I have none, Potter.'

'I don't want information,' said Harry at once. 'At least, not right now,' he added, feeling it was best not to close that door immediately.

'I said we must be open and honest with each other,' said Daphne, looking at Malfoy, 'To that end, I owe you an explanation.' She paused for a moment. 'Harry is here at my request, because – because the alliance I speak of will be beneficial not just for Slytherin House, but for the fight against V-Voldemort.'

Malfoy looked at her intently, just about concealing his wince at the sound of the name.

'How are they related?' he asked.

'Having Nott as the leader of Slytherin would mean every student will want to follow Voldemort,' said Harry.

'And what makes you think I wouldn't lead them to the same fate?'

'You're not Slytherin's leader anymore,' said Harry simply. 'As far as I've heard and seen, anyway.'

Malfoy's expression turned blank, unreadable. It was as though the mention of him not being Slytherin's leader had caused him to clam up and retreat behind his walls.

'I'm not looking to undermine you, Draco,' said Daphne in clearly soothing tones. 'Both of us have similar goals. I think we ought to be working together instead of against each other.'

Still, Malfoy didn't say anything.

'The Ministry is already being idiots about this,' said Harry. 'They think we're stirring up trouble for the sake of it. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves when we know he's out there.'

Harry and Daphne fell silent, looking at each other and then at Malfoy, whose expression remained unreadable. Harry could see the firelight reflected in Malfoy's grey eyes. No one spoke for two whole minutes. Then, at last –

'The name of Malfoy still commands a lot of respect in wizarding society,' said Malfoy. His eyes were fixed on the dancing flames. 'The Ministry, and the Minister in particular, have always looked to our family for advice and support to advance their causes. My grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, was an excellent advisor to Millicent Bagnold, the previous Minister for Magic. When Fudge took over, my father was well-placed to continue the work that my grandfather had started.'

Harry didn't have a clue where this was going, or why Malfoy was telling them all this. A glance at Daphne's expression, however, told him that this was important. He refocused on Malfoy as the blonde boy continued.

'I've read the reports of the Death Eater trials that took place following the Dark Lord's disappearance. I'm not ignorant – I know my father was not under the Imperius Curse when he became a Death Eater for the Dark Lord. My father used his goodwill to stay out of Azkaban when he was first captured by the Aurors. It is magically impossible to be coerced into taking the Dark Mark. It's why my mother has never taken the Mark herself.

'My father believes that the Dark Lord has the right vision for our world. Those who come into our world without any proper wizarding ancestry do not understand our ways and customs. They do not appreciate the traditions and the old ways of magic that have been passed down through generations. They see magic as a solution to their problems, a tool that they can wield to make their lives easier. Some of them even look to change long-standing traditions – bringing in modern influences that allegedly better reflect the changes in our global society.'

Harry had no doubt now that this was extremely important. He had never seen or heard of Malfoy being this open before. It was rather unnerving for him, and possibly cathartic for Malfoy, judging by the blonde boy's face. Harry wondered if he had ever spoken about this to anyone before.

'Until recently, I believed in this, too. My father taught me that some families are better than others and that as Malfoys, we are a cut above the rest. I was raised to believe that, as a Malfoy, I would be a great wizard and respected by every other witch and wizard. I was told that when the time came, I would join my father in helping the Dark Lord achieve his aims for the wizarding world.'

Daphne was nodding along to Malfoy's words. Doubtless, she understood the position he had been placed in, just like most of the children from Death Eater families.

'What changed?' she asked gently when Malfoy was silent for a few moments.

'When Warrington was murdered by the Dark Lord,' said Malfoy bluntly. His eyes were suddenly overbright.

'What do you mean?' asked Harry, and his voice, too, was gentle and low.

Malfoy let out a low mirthless chuckle. 'Isn't it obvious, Potter? The Dark Lord clearly doesn't care about who he kills, as long as he achieves his aims. He killed Warrington just for being there, even though he's a pureblood and his father's a Death Eater.' He looked up and met Harry's eyes. 'I'm not stupid enough to suffer the same fate if I can help it.'

'I know,' replied Harry, smirking slightly. 'I just wanted you to say it out loud.'

A ghost of a grin flitted across Malfoy's visage. 'Touche, Potter.'

'What did your father say, Draco?' asked Daphne, steering the conversation back on track.

Malfoy's smile faded. 'He is as adamant as ever about my role with the Death Eaters. He is looking forward to the day when I come of age…the day I can take the Dark Mark.'

'So, you've been disassociating yourself from your father here at Hogwarts,' observed Daphne shrewdly.

'Yes,' said Malfoy. 'I no longer wish to rely on a man who is willing to sacrifice his only son.'

'And that's why the Slytherins don't want to be associated with you, either,' said Daphne.

'Yes.'

A period of silence followed that proclamation as Harry absorbed everything that Malfoy had told them so far. It seemed plausible, even believable, and yet…

'Do you still believe that stuff your father taught you?' asked Harry.

Malfoy, who had been gazing into the fire again, looked back up at Harry.

'It is…complicated, Potter,' he said. He sounded as though he was choosing his words carefully. 'Up until this summer, if you had asked me this question, I would have said yes. Now, however…' He hesitated. 'I still believe that those who come from non-magical backgrounds have no respect or regard for our traditions and ways. They insist on changing our methods to fit their idealistic standards, without realising that such changes could create more problems than solutions.'

'You're saying they have no place in our world?' Harry said in a challenging tone.

'I didn't say that, nor will you hear me say it from now on,' replied Malfoy coolly. 'I may have said so in the past, but those were the words of a young boy who didn't know better than to parrot his father's teachings.'

'I'll say,' muttered Harry, but audible enough for the other two to hear him. Malfoy ignored him.

'I believe that if Muggle-borns can be taught about our world and our methods before they join Hogwarts, it would be easier for them to integrate into our society with minimal adverse consequences,' he finished.

'That's – actually a good idea, Malfoy,' said Harry, impressed. 'You thought of this yourself?'

Malfoy glared at Harry. 'I'm capable of intelligent thoughts, Potter.'

'Sure,' said Harry, smirking.

'Are you two done flirting with each other?' demanded Daphne. Both Harry and Malfoy looked around at her with equally disgusted expressions.

'Daph,' said Harry in a hurt voice, 'that was a low blow.'

'Me and Potter?' said Malfoy, pretending to vomit. 'You've got to be joking…'

Daphne patted the top of Harry's head. 'Don't worry, I won't be mad if you decide to leave me for him,' she said sweetly.

'Ugh, Daphne!'

'Wait a moment,' said Malfoy, sitting up and looking between Harry and Daphne. 'You – are you two – together?'

Daphne looked at Harry, who shrugged. They had had quite a civil conversation so far, and Malfoy had shared quite a lot about his situation. Plus, they had decided that they wouldn't hide their relationship any longer.

Nothing else for it.

'Yes,' said Daphne, after a nod from Harry that she should answer. 'Harry and I are dating.'

'Ugh, Greengrass! You could have chosen better than Scarhead, honestly,' said Malfoy, but the barb was devoid of the venom that Harry was used to from him.

'Sod off, ferret,' said Harry, making a rude hand gesture at him.

'Harry!' said Daphne chidingly.

'Oh, that's mature,' remarked Malfoy in a haughty voice.

'Anyway,' said Daphne, bringing the conversation back on track. 'What say you, Draco? Are you on board with the idea of an alliance?'

Malfoy looked intently between Harry and Daphne.

'What would this involve, exactly?' he asked at last.

'The primary aim is to deny Nott the leadership of Slytherin House, of course,' said Daphne.

'But we also want to ensure that as few Slytherins support Voldemort as possible,' added Harry.

Malfoy glanced at Harry dubiously. 'You realise that is tantamount to branding a target on me the moment I set foot outside of Hogwarts?'

'Not if it is done discretely and without the moles knowing what's going on,' said Daphne earnestly.

'Including Dolores Umbridge,' added Harry again.

'And what do I get in return?' asked Malfoy.

Daphne and Harry exchanged glances; then, she said, 'What do you want?'

'I want to be the leader of Slytherin House,' said Malfoy at once.

They exchanged another glance. Harry knew that the girls had prepared for this eventuality, and he also knew that Daphne would not let it go so easily.

'Okay, you can be the leader of Slytherin – on these conditions,' said Daphne quickly before Malfoy said anything further.

Malfoy frowned at the pair of them. 'What conditions?'

'One – no hostilities with any of our friends, including the other Gryffindors,' said Daphne.

'I – fine, but if Weasley does anything to rile me up, I will not be responsible for my reaction.'

'Two – you do not betray me, Harry, or anyone in our group over this alliance.'

'Obviously,' said Malfoy, rolling his eyes.

'And three – you actively help us resist Umbridge and the Ministry.'

Malfoy looked incredulously at her. Then he turned to Harry, shook his head, and sighed.

'Alright, fine, have it your way, then,' he said. 'For what it's worth, Potter's been a bad influence on you, Greengrass. That was such a Gryffindor thing to say.'

'Oi!'

To be continued…