Whatever it said though, wasn't what Draco had been expecting. The expression on his face fell, his eyes losing their sparkle, though they still gleamed in some hard way Harry was at a loss to define.
What was even stranger was the amount of time Draco spent reading. Harry knew for a fact that his brother was a fast reader, but he pored over the letter for what seemed like hours, his eyes like chipped ice by the end.
Then, he folded the square of parchment back into thirds and thrust it back into his pocket, his whole attitude radiating nonchalance. "So, that's that," he said, forced brightness in his voice. "Harry, let's finish our latest Potions essays before Severus here concludes we're worthless."
Harry couldn't help but stare. "What did your letter say?"
That got him a rather condescending look. "Really," drawled the other boy, "one's finances are personal. Have I pried into how many Galleons your vaults hold?"
At least that was better than a lecture on breeding or upbringing, but one thing about it still bothered Harry. Draco obviously felt that personal topics were off-limits, which of course was one more proof, as if Harry needed it, that Draco just didn't understand that they really were family.
"Yes, actually you have pried," retorted Harry. "Into Severus' finances, that is. You asked me how much money he had when you were worried we might have to leave England."
"Well that was an extraordinary circumstance," Draco said with a little toss of his head. Harry thought he looked like he was strongly tempted to say something much ruder and was controlling himself.
"Yes, it was." Harry decided he'd better let the matter go, so he fetched his Potions text from his school bag and set to rereading the section on ingredients that resisted charms.
"Perhaps you'll speak with me now, Draco," prompted Snape in his deep voice. "In my office."
Draco slanted his father a wry look. "Fine. Should be a short conversation, as these things go."
The remark puzzled Harry. It didn't even end up being true. Draco and Snape were gone for the better part of an hour. By the time they came out, Harry was looking over his finished draft for things he might have forgotten to include.
"Everything all right?"
"Of course," said Draco, his voice again that airy one that meant he was hiding something.
"Draco," admonished Snape in a warning tone.
"Oh, don't get your robes all in a twist. I said I'd tell him, so fine!"
Harry got a sense then of what had taken so long. Draco didn't want to tell him whatever it was, and Snape had insisted.
"It's like this," Draco went on after a moment. His hands were in his pockets again, a sure sign he was feeling ill-at-ease. "The letter from Gringotts. It turns out that there's no vault for me after all."
A number of emotions swamped Harry all at once. He was shocked at the news, and worried that Draco would come unglued. But most of all, he was relieved at this turn of events. He hadn't really been looking forward to watching Draco spend money his mother had killed someone for, after all. What an example of motherly love! And with that example, it was no wonder Draco's values were... well, almost non-existent at times. But now, with the money gone... yeah, Harry did feel better about the whole thing.
But on the other hand, he didn't really want Draco to be poor, either. That was awful. Particularly for someone like Draco.
"Oh," he said, realising at once that expressing his relief would be ill-advised. He was careful to keep his voice neutral. "Um, did Walpurgis not change his will in your favour then?"
"He sort of did." Draco scowled. "Walpurgis was smarter than Narcissa gave him credit for, though. He made me his sole heir, all right. But then he left instructions that if he died in any way that Gringotts could term mysterious, the goblins were to deliver all his Galleons and deeds and other property--everything--into this charitable trust he had set up years ago. He'd been funding it for quite some time." Draco glanced back at his brother. "So that's it, then. I thought I would be all right, you know, money-wise--Merlin, what an absolutely plebeian word--but as it turns out, I'm poor after all. About as poor as you can get. All I have is the allowance Severus gives us, and a few things from back when Lucius was footing my bills. You know, things that didn't vanish when the clothes and such I had bought with my vault money did." Draco shuddered a bit. "Good thing I didn't banish them all, I suppose. I was going to, as soon as my new vault was settled. I was going to buy all new things."
Harry bit his lip. He wondered if he should say he was sorry even though he mostly wasn't.
"Don't everyone weep at once."
"I... I'm just really shocked," Harry managed to answer. "Why didn't you want to tell me?"
"Because it's nothing to do with you."
"Of course it is. We're brothers!"
Draco lifted his nose in the air. "Well, maybe I didn't want to tell you because of what happened last time. Are you going to go all superior on me and offer me charity again?"
"No, I wasn't going to offer you charity, you prat."
"Good," said Draco in a tone halfway between conciliation and a sneer. "Because the one thing I have left is my pride and I won't be trading it away to you."
"Yeah, well maybe someday you'll have more than pride," Harry said, raising his voice slightly. "Maybe you'll figure out you have a family too, and that there's nothing wrong with..." Catching a look from his father, Harry abruptly broke off. "Never mind. I just think... no, never mind."
Draco's lips twisted. "I know what you think, Harry. Same as Severus, no doubt. So never mind sounds about right. I don't need to hear twice in one evening how somebody's just as glad the money's gone."
"I did not say precisely that."
"No, you said... oh, what's the point?" Draco threw his hands up. "It's gone anyway, so it doesn't matter now, does it? And I did understand what you meant, Severus, about murder not being the way to fill one's vault. It's just... you know, it's not my fault that my mother did that. I didn't put her up to it. I didn't even know about it!"
"Does that mean you should condone her actions by accepting the bequest, though?"
Draco bared his teeth. "Well, that's what they call a moot point, isn't it now?"
"Yes, fortunately."
"I can tell you're heartbroken over my reversal of fortunes."
Even through the sarcasm, Draco's voice sounded like it was about to fracture. Concerned about that, Harry walked over and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Are you going to be all right?"
"No, I'm going to curl up into a little ball and die, Harry." Draco made an attempt to grin, though the expression came off looking hideous since he was obviously still quite distraught. "Look, everything will be fine. It's just... one more adjustment."
Harry nodded slowly, thinking about all the adjustments Draco had made this year. In rejecting a future with the Death Eaters, he'd accepted an entirely new way of thought. He'd lost his family, and then his fortune once before. He'd lost the girl he loved, and then been accused of her murder and expelled from the only place he felt safe.
He'd had to accept that his own father had tried--was still trying, probably--to have him killed.
And somehow he'd come through it with enough good spirits to take this new adjustment pretty well, all things considered. "Thanks for telling me about Walpurgis' will," Harry finally said. "I think it's better for family members not to keep secrets."
"It wasn't so much keeping a secret as..." Draco sighed, and brushed Harry's hand away. "I was trying to be mature. Strange concept, I know. I wasn't going to say anything ever. Because that's better than whinging on about it, see?"