Three-Edged Sword (a Harry Potter Story) - 2. Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

The black-haired boy slipped out of his new room less than an hour after sunrise. He was clutching his wand in one hand and an envelope in the other. He made his way unnoticed in the crowd of students. He broke off when he neared the Owlery. He approached his owl, who promptly flew down to nip at him affectionately.

“Take this to Draco Malfoy for me please, Azrael.”

Azrael hooted in response. Blaise scratched the owl’s ear tufts and then went on his way.

He walked all the way down to the main corridor outside of the Great Hall and blended into the shadows of one of the many alcoves along the hall. He stood there silently waiting for fate to cross his path again. As luck would have it, she did.

As Pansy Parkinson passed by him, Blaise stepped out of the alcove aimed his wand at her back and said those two most unforgivable words, “Avada Kedavra!”

The green light of death surged out of the end of Blaise’s wand and struck her squarely in the back, causing her to crash face first into the floor. In the resulting confusion and screaming, Blaise ducked around the corner, turned his wand towards himself and repeated those awful words. He crashed lifeless to the floor.

*   *   *

Draco was still in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had decided that it would be best that he stay there for the night. He hadn’t been inclined to argue with her. He had just woken up when an owl started tapping on the window. He got out of bed to open it. The owl flew in, and circled twice before dropping a letter on his bed and flying straight back out the window. Draco closed it and approached his bed. His name stood boldly on the envelope in Blaise’s tidy handwriting.

Draco stared at the envelope for a long time before picking it up and opening it. He pulled out the letter inside and started to read.

He hadn’t realized he had tears running down his cheek until one splashed onto the letter. Nor had he realized that someone had come into the room with him until he felt a hand drop on his shoulder. It was Professor Snape.

Draco was so startled he yelled out in surprise and jumped away. He continued to yell hysterically and wouldn’t let Snape come near him. Snape backed away, spun around in a flourish of black flowing robes, and stormed out of the infirmary. He made his way straight to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady took one look at his face and swung open, allowing him access.

The various Gryffindors that were in the common room at that moment looked in shock as the dour Potions Master stormed through and straight to the stairs for the dormitories. He went all the way to the seventh year boys’ dorm and walked right in without announcing himself. George was standing in front of the mirror, wrapped in a towel and combing his hair.

He looked over his shoulder at Professor Snape when he stormed into the room.

“You must come with me now,” Snape demanded without preamble.

“Don’t you think I should get dressed first?” George replied dryly.

“Then get dressed,” Snape snapped.

George looked at the professor for a moment and it was obvious the man wasn’t going to be moving so George let the towel drop exposing himself completely to the older man. Professor Snape turned red and walked out of the room mumbling, “Sorry. I’ll wait in the hall.”

George dressed quickly and grabbed his wand, sliding it into a holder hidden within his robes. He joined Professor Snape outside of the dorm. As soon as George appeared, Snape’s long strides took him out of the dorm area and across the common room. George didn’t try to say anything until they were outside of Gryffindor.

“What’s going on Professor?”

“Blaise Zabini has killed Pansy Parkinson and himself. Draco is in the infirmary and won’t let anyone near him. He is holding a letter in his hand and I think it is from Zabini. We need to know exactly what happened and I think that you can help,” Snape explained, which was probably the most information Snape ever gave at one time.

“Shite,” George muttered.

“I concur Mr. Weasley.”

George walked into the infirmary right behind Professor Snape. They both stopped in shock. Draco was brandishing his wand and holding off both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick, who had stopped for a headache potion.

“Filius, Poppy, please step back. I’ll take care of this,” Severus said sharply into the chaos of the room.

Flitwick and Pomfrey backed off immediately while Professor Snape approached. George stayed back near the door and watched as the Potions Master approached his godson.

“Draco. Talk to me.”

Draco brandished his wand at his godfather and stared wild-eyed at him, “Leave me alone.”

Snape looked put out, but he turned around and ushered the other two from the room, leaving George alone.

George stared at the wild-eyed blond on the far side of the room and decided that it would be tactically wise to retreat for the moment. He started to turn around to leave when Draco muttered, “Wait.”

George turned back to face Draco and he watched as the boy lowered his wand. In a very short period of time, sobs started to shake his body as he broke down completely. George closed the distance between them rapidly and Draco buried his face into George’s robe.

“You know, you aren’t acting very much like yourself,” George said a few minutes later.

“You mean an insufferably arrogant git?”

“That’s the one, yes.”

“A role I had to play to please my father. I stopped playing that role when I refused to join the Dark Lord.”

“What’s going on with you?”

Draco stared at him in shock, “Haven’t you heard?”

“Professor Snape, your godfather Severus,” George quirked his eyebrows at Draco before continuing, “said that Blaise killed Pansy Parkinson and then himself.”

Draco blinked a couple of times. “Yes. Blaise is dead, and he killed Pansy Parkinson.”

George stared at him.

Draco, whose eyes were red, handed George the crumpled letter with a look of profound sadness.

George accepted the letter and stared in amazement at the depth of emotion playing across Draco’s face. He had always assumed the boy was a cold-hearted bastard before last night, but he was obviously wrong. He flattened the letter out a bit and started to read.

Dear Draco,

You are no doubt in the infirmary recovering from the evil that my body has inflicted on you. There are no words that I have that can express how sorry I am for that. In memory of all those cold nights that we found comfort with one another, I can only hope you forgive me for the pain I caused you. I hope that you can also forgive me for being too weak of spirit to fight off the potion that Parkinson used to control me. And most of all I hope you can forgive me for not being there to say all this in person.

By the time you receive this letter, I shall have extracted my own revenge on Parkinson to make her pay for the pain I made you suffer. For my own weakness, I’ve decided to end my own suffering as well.

Please know that with the instructions that I could not ignore came other information. Professor Snape was able to help me to recall it, but it wasn’t enough to do more than watch Parkinson more closely. For causing me to hurt you, I’ll make her pay. In addition to her culpability, I’m sure you have deduced by now that my final orders would have been to kill you and then kill myself, leaving behind a note of how we were lovers and I was jealous of your sudden interest in Parkinson. It was all an elaborate ruse concocted by our fathers.

Please don’t grieve for me. I couldn’t stand to live knowing that the only person that I ever felt any happiness with couldn’t help but hate me for what I’ve done. Godspeed to you Draco Malfoy.

Sincerely yours,

Blaise Damien Zabini

George had tears leaking down his own cheeks as he set the letter aside. “You were very close?”

Draco nodded.

“I’m sorry Draco. Truly I am,” George said, emotion cracking his voice.

“He was always a bit shortsighted about these kinds of things,” Draco replied with no emotion at all in his voice after a few minutes of silence.

George looked at the younger boy quietly, wondering what the next step needed to be.

They were interrupted by Professor Snape’s return. “George, could you please escort Draco to the room across the hall from your lab? We have made arrangements for that to be his new dormitory. The password is ‘fellowship’,” he said, holding out his hand for the letter.

“Yes, sir,” George replied quietly, handing the letter to Snape after getting a small nod from Draco.

“Good morning to you both gentlemen,” Snape said and then left with a swirl of his cloak.

“Are you ready Draco?” George asked quietly.

Draco nodded.

The two boys left the infirmary and entered the hallway. George almost immediately walked into a small alcove on the side of the corridor. Draco followed and was in time to see George hit three spots on the blank wall with his wand. A shallow click was followed shortly thereafter by the wall opening inwards to reveal a secret passageway behind it. George stepped through and waited for Draco.

“How do you know about all these secret passageways?”

“I did a lot of exploring and well… this castle is fairly unique. It has a will that it is all its own. It allows certain people to access special hallways for reasons only it knows. Mr. Filch uses the special passageways to allow him to be anywhere in the castle is less than two minutes. It’s quite a feat normally. The castle seems to have its own dark sense of humor, so it helps out some of the students that are up to mischief but not causing any real harm.”

“How did you become familiar with the castles whims?”

“It was a very interesting meeting with the Headmaster during my first year here. Professor Dumbledore has got to be the best wizard alive,” George replied with genuine feeling in his voice.

“I’ve never really thought so, but my perception has always been a bit muddied.”

“It has,” George agreed.

They walked along as they talked and they popped out of the corridor at just the right spot. This door actually led straight to the secret hallway they were heading for, so they didn’t even need to appear in any of the main corridors. George walked up to the right door and gave the password. The door swung open to reveal a small flat.

There was a common room with fireplace, a bedroom and a bathroom. The bedroom had a nice queen-sized four-poster bed in it. The common room had a very comfortable looking davenport and several small tables. In the far corner of the common room there was a medium sized desk.

“This is nice,” George said, looking around the flat.

“And it’s all mine,” Draco replied with a small smirk.

“Indeed it is. Are you okay now?” George asked.

A look of panic went across Draco’s face before he replied, “Could you start the fire for me? I’m going to go get a blanket off the bed.”

George replied affirmatively and then watched somewhat perplexed as Draco left the room in search of a blanket.

Draco returned a minute later with a large blanket and two pillows. He walked straight to the couch and sat down on it with a sigh. He stared a George for a while, watching him closely as he got the fire going.

“Please come over here and sit with me George,” Draco asked quietly when George got the fire roaring comfortably.

George looked closely at Draco for a moment before slowly complying with the request. When he sat down, Draco pulled the blanket around so that it covered them both.

“Thanks,” Draco said once he was settled.

“You welcome. Do you know what you’re doing Draco?”

“Yes. I’m doing everything I can to make sure that I’m not alone,” Draco replied immediately with completely uncharacteristic openness.

“Yes you are. But you also seem to trying to make it intimate as well,” George said, looking deeply back at Draco.

“I want… I would like… would you please hold me George? I don’t feel safe.”

“I will, but I still don’t understand how you can feel safe alone with me.”

“I’m not that arrogant boy that everyone thought they knew. That was a well-acted character I portrayed so that I could survive in Lucius’ house. I often wish that I could be that coldhearted bastard, but I can’t. I do care if I hurt someone else. I do get scared. Ask Potter. I was scared to death in the Forest during our first year. The spell he cast during the Quidditch match in our third year when I was dressed up with Marcus Flint as a Dementor also scared the life out of me.”

“We all get scared sometimes,” George replied generously.

“Yes, but not that prat that everyone thinks is Draco Malfoy. Lucius has always said that Malfoys never show fear.”

“Why are you calling your father Lucius?”

“No man that did what he has done to his son should ever have the right of being called father,” Draco hissed vehemently.

“I understand, Draco,” George replied quietly.

“Please hold me George,” Draco pleaded softly.

George relented immediately and arranged himself in such a way that he was lying on the couch and Draco was spooned into him. George placed both his arms around the smaller boy and he held him close. George then pulled the blanket over them both.

“Is that better Draco?”

“Yes. Thanks George.”

“Ok. We are alone now in a small room. There is a fire burning in the fireplace and I’m holding a beautiful fifteen-year-old boy in my arms. Would you like to explain to me why?”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Draco asked, craning his head around to look at George.

George blushed slightly and replied with a slight smirk, “Yes, for a boy.”

“Your twin obviously likes boys, since he is dating Potter. What do you feel about them?”

“I prefer them over girls. Boys are much more predictable and less prone to radical mood swings. They also are more understanding of my business ventures here at school.”

“Ah yes, the import and export of certain contraband material. To say nothing of the creation of your own line of, we’ll call them joke products. Did I miss anything?”

“I will also, on occasion, assist selected boys and girls to find what they seek in personal entertainment with those of the opposite or even the same gender. I only do matchmaking though. I don’t arrange for sales. That is more of a Slytherin pursuit and there are several seventh years that specialize in that sort of thing.”

“Yes. So girls aren’t too understanding in you running the black market here? What about other boys?” he asked, hinting at what he wanted.

“I think you credit me a bit too much. I merely participate in the black market. As for boys, there have been a few in the past that enjoyed a romp with me.”

“Good,” Draco said in response to George liking the occasional boy before switching back to clandestine market, “You and your brother were the only ones to be able to supply items to us when the Dementors were stationed around the school. So you obviously have your hands very deep around here.”

“I’d say that we were simply more enterprising than some of our contemporaries.”

“Bravo Weasley. You have learned to doubletalk well. Dumbledore helps you guys out doesn’t he? He looks the other way or he helps you out directly.”

“I have no comment on that I’m afraid, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco squirmed suddenly, which caused his butt to rub directly against George’s crotch.

“Draco! Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast? I mean you were just raped by a friend of yours. The same boy then killed himself and another of your classmates a few hours ago. Do you really think that this sort of activity is wise?”

“I should tell you what kind of friendship Blaise and I shared. We met here in our first year. While he is a pureblood, my father always considered his family lower than ours. In fact, I think he thought only slightly better of them then he does of your family. Regardless, Blaise was one of the first boys I talked to when we arrived in the Slytherin Common room after our sorting feast.”

“I thought you spent time with… what was it? Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Those two fools couldn’t hold a single thought between them. They are brawn only. My father ordered them to act as my bodyguards as their fathers do for him. Blaise was different though. He was extremely smart and very cunning. He was a true Slytherin.”

“I’ll bet,” George replied dryly.

Draco reached back and poked his finger in George’s side, causing him to squirm. “We hit it off immediately, though we decided to keep our friendship low key. When we got upstairs, we found that our beds were right next to each other. It was that night that I discovered Blaise’s biggest secret.”

“Slytherins certainly seem to make a trade in other people’s secrets,” George interjected.

Draco poked him again before continuing, “He was afraid of the dark. It was kind of strange really. He was a darkly handsome boy. He exuded a certain confidence and charm. But he fell nearly apart that night. I heard him sniff back a whimper after the other boys had fallen asleep. I got up to investigate and I found him shaking in his bed. He clung to me immediately when I sat on his bed. I managed to pry him off and I told him he could come back to my bed to talk. He got up immediately and climbed into bed with me. I cast a silencing charm so that we wouldn’t be overheard. In case you are wondering, my father made me learn a whole series of spells before I started school. He didn’t want me to accidentally spill a family secret, after all.”

“Of course not,” George replied with a smirk.

“That night was only the first. He spent most of the first and second year sleeping with me. In the third year, we discovered some of the fun that two boys could share. By that time he slept in my bed because he wanted to, not because he needed to. I learned to trust him with my fears as well. Only he has seen me without my Malfoy Mask in place.”

“So you guys had sex on a fairly regular basis?”

“After a time, yes. I wouldn’t categorize what Blaise did last night as rape. He hurt me, but he wasn’t in control of his actions.”

“He was forcing you to have sex.”

“I would have let him if he asked. I wanted him to stop because he had hurt me when he beat the hell out of me.”

“If you’re sure. You were obviously close. You do know that I can’t be him? I mean, you know that I’m my own person, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you have an established pattern of relying on and providing physical comfort of another person when you or they are distressed.”

“You sound like Madam Pomfrey.”

“The medical class helps with some of our jokes, believe it or not.”

“If you say so George. I know you are your own person. I also recognize that you are a wonderful person. How else would you be able to put up with my past and still be able to comfort me so well?”

“We need to get past that now I think. We’ve established that you were a git as part of an act. We’ve also established that I’m a hopeless Gryffindor when it comes to rushing in to help someone in need.”

“Fine. Are you going to stay?”

“What are you looking for Draco? I’ve already whacked the bludger for you with the Headmaster.”

“I want a boyfriend. I want you for a boyfriend.”

“That seems like a very big commitment. We don’t even really know each other.”

“The fact that you are here despite my past is proof of what a good soul you have.”

“I thought we weren’t going to mention those things anymore? Are you capable of love, Draco Malfoy?”

“In time I think I can love. I think I loved Blaise in my own way and he loved me, in his way.”

George pushed Draco away and then turned him around and pulled him back, rolling slightly so that the smaller boy was lying on top of him, dismissing the topic for now.

“I think this is rather interesting,” George said, looking up into Draco’s face.

Draco looked down and smiled at George. He then stopped supporting himself so that he lie completely on George’s chest.

They fell asleep shortly afterwards in each other’s arms.