Aran shuddered. "I don't want to be responsible for the the other students being exposed to this... unnaturalness, Mr. Potter. You can practice on your own however you like, but not in class. As for tests... well, do you have any suggestions?"
"Maybe another teacher could grade me?"
The professor's voice went dry. "You're suggesting your father."
"No... why don't you pick someone? Would that be fair?" After his teacher nodded, Harry turned to go, then thought better of it. "Professor Aran... didn't Professor Snape tell you that my magic had... uh, changed? I mean, did you mention to him that you disapproved...?"
"There wasn't time," Aran brushed him off. Harry heard what he hadn't said: I'm not challenging someone like Severus Snape face-to-face. Which meant that if need be, Harry could drag his father into the fray. He didn't want to do that, though. He could solve this on his own.
Nodding a polite acknowledgement of the lie, Harry left. Then, of course he had to argue with Ron and Hermione, who wanted him to report Aran's behaviour straight to Snape, or at the very least, McGonagall.
"I'll figure out what to do about Aran later," Harry cut them off. "It's almost time for the funeral. Severus will have to attend. Either that or he'll still be dealing with all the sick Slytherins, and I just don't think Draco should be alone."
"Oh, like Malfoy has feelings--"
Harry rounded on Ron, then decided it wasn't worth arguing over, not when he didn't have any chance of changing his friend's mind. He wished there was someone who would understand, or at least someone who would listen without judging. Hermione came close... she, at least, was willing to admit that Draco Malfoy wasn't quite the same stuck-up self-important pure-blood-is-everything prat he'd been before... but even she wouldn't want to hear that the Slytherin boy was his brother.
"I have feelings," Harry only said, looking steadily at them both. "I have to go have lunch with Draco. Walk me down, all right?"
Ron looked like he might argue with that as well, but a glare from Hermione made him fall silent.
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The instant Harry closed the front door, Draco rushed out of the hallway that led to Snape's bedroom and office. He came to what Harry could only think of as a screeching halt, then sauntered forward as if he hadn't a care in the world. But the truth was written all over his face.
Harry sighed. Just as well Ron and Hermione hadn't come in. "You were trying to break Severus' wards so you could get my cloak, weren't you?"
Draco raised an eyebrow as though that were a shocking idea indeed, then turned the conversation on its head. "Where are your escorts, Harry? Severus isn't going to like hearing that you're already wandering about without them."
As threats went, that one wasn't too subtle. "They walked me down. But what are you thinking, trying to attack Severus' wards? You know what happened with my Lumos that time. Severus will know straight away if you break through! Don't you have enough lines to write, already?"
Draco lifted his chin. "Unlike some people, I wasn't planning on blasting a hole through the wall. I wasn't going to attack the wards at all, if you must know. I thought maybe I could somehow wizardspace my way in--"
"That'd never work--"
"Well, you wouldn't help me, so what was I supposed to do? Is it so much to ask, Harry? We loved each other! And all I wanted was to go to her funeral!"
Oh God, by the end there Draco sounded like he was close to breaking apart. Harry didn't know what to do. Everything he could think of just seemed wrong. The other boy was a fountain of pride, and besides, he had all those issues about love and family, so Harry was left feeling like there was nothing he could do.
"It'll be all right," he said, giving his brother a sympathetic smile.
Well, that was definitely the wrong thing to do. Draco went off like a volcano.
"How exactly is it going to be all right, you bloody irritating Gryffindor?" he screamed, stomping right up to Harry. "My girlfriend's dead! Dead, dead, dead, and she's not coming back! And as if that weren't enough, no matter what the Aurors say, half the school's going to think I killed her! I'm going to get expelled and Severus will have to quit his job, and we'll all have to live off you since my vault will revert to the Malfoy estate the instant I get kicked out of Hogwarts! And I know you're full of this simpering oh we're all family the money means nothing idealistic shite, but it means a lot to Slytherins, in case you haven't figured that out! Severus is going to end up hating me and I bet you'll resent me plenty, family or no, and--"
"That's enough," Harry said in a level voice as he grabbed his brother's arm and gave it a sharp shake. "You think you're the only one who's ever lost someone? Or who felt at fault? Just... just shut up, Draco. I know you feel awful, all right? I know what it's like to lose someone and not get a chance to ever say goodbye!" Harry blinked, swallowing hard. Because this wasn't about himself; it was about Draco. And there actually was something he could do for his brother, wasn't there? Harry gave a little nod as he let Draco go. "All right, then. I'll help you."
It was as if the other boy's anger had been all that was holding him upright. He slumped, almost stumbling, then straightened again. "Really?"
So much hope in those silver eyes...
"I won't help you break Severus' wards," Harry clarified. "But I think there's something else I can do for you."
Draco bared his teeth, that anger returning full force. "If you say you're going to order me a Butterbeer to make it all better, I just might hit you again. Fair warning."
Harry ignored the threat. "I'm sorry you can't go to Pansy's funeral, but you just can't. There's no way. But... what if you could see it from here? Would that...." He didn't want to sound like Hermione and use a word like closure. "Um, would that let you... Draco, would that help?"
"What in Merlin's name are you going on about?"
"Your enchanted picture frame... Look, it may not work. But I made it show people once. So... maybe you can see the funeral from here. I can try, anyway."
Draco's eyes glittered. "Oh, the perfect little Gryffindor broke the wards on the frame."
"Yeah, to see if you were alive, you prat. Wanded magic. And Severus knows, but um... probably best if you don't tell him I did it again."
Harry was almost expecting another biting reply that; something along the lines of Now I'll have something to hold over you... but Draco was already back to thinking about what obviously mattered most. "Well? Hurry up; it's almost time."
Harry had a bad feeling about going against Snape's wishes, but the feeling of wanting to alleviate Draco's suffering was stronger still. Leading the way into the bedroom, he extended his wand toward the frame as he'd done before, but he thought better than to demand to see Pansy. He didn't want them to end up with a view of the inside of the casket, after all. Besides, there was no telling if the spell would act the same on a dead person as it did on a live one.
"Show me Mrs. Parkinson," he said, staring at his ring.
The enchanted picture frame, though, didn't respond.
"That sounded a bit... diffident," Draco pointed out.
Harry was surprised Draco could tell as much, considering he must have spoken Parseltongue, but he supposed the other boy had heard him incant a good many successful spells by then. "I guess I don't really want to get Severus angry."
Draco's face lost all expression. "Do you want me to beg?"