Snape shook his head. "Dreamless Sleep will see to that. However, I do believe a nightcap may be in order. We haven't any mint liqueur but I did think to pack a bottle of Galliano."
Harry blinked. "You'll let us have a nightcap with you?"
"Certainly."
After the drinks were poured, Draco began to press Snape for information. "Aran, Severus. What are you going to do about him?"
"You leave that to me."
"It's more than his hatred of Parseltongue at issue now," insisted Draco. "He crossed the line into something else entirely when he hexed Harry! And don't forget, that was after he'd seen Lucius abduct me. And he still not only helped Lucius out, but attacked a student to do it!"
"Aaron Aran shall be dealt with," promised Snape. "But you will leave it to me."
And that was all Snape would say on the subject, no matter how Harry and Draco needled him.
Later, when Harry went into his bedroom to get ready for bed, he couldn't help but remember that it was here in this very room that he'd first known he was going to kill Lucius Malfoy. True, he hadn't done it by burning the man alive, though he'd come close in the Defence classroom. But he had done it. And he hadn't really said anything about it to his brother. That didn't seem right.
"Draco," said Harry, putting down the potion he'd been about to take.
"Hmm?" Draco turned after he finished putting on his pyjamas. His silver eyes glimmered as soon as he saw Harry staring at him. "Oh, for pity's sake. If you thank me again for Serpensortia I just may have to smack you. I was saving myself as much as you, you know."
"I know. That's not it." Harry sat down on his bed and stared straight ahead at the opposite wall. "It's just . . . I killed Lucius and as horrible as he was to you, he was your father before Severus was, and . . . well, I can't really say I'm sorry, exactly, but-- I guess I just mean, if you felt upset with me I'd hardly blame you."
"I think I'd be upset with you if you hadn't killed him, Harry," said Draco, sighing. After a moment he came over and sat next to Harry on the bed, twisted sideways with one leg bent atop the coverlet. "Look at me."
Harry turned his head.
"He wasn't going to stop, Harry," said Draco, no trace of humour in his eyes, now. "Ever. And after everything that's happened, I wouldn't trust Azkaban to keep him confined. Lucius was going to come after us again and again and again until he killed us both. I know you weren't trying to kill him when you cast your Petrificus, but really, it's just as well that you did."
"I know all that," murmured Harry. "But I thought you might feel, I don't know, something else."
Draco shook his head. "Whatever I might have felt was burned out of me this year, Harry. A warrant on my life, death threats made to my face, expelling me, arranging to frame me for murder? Not to mention it was my girlfriend who . . . yeah. He stopped being my father long before Severus adopted me. In the end, he was just a horrible man out for my blood. And yours. And I can't be sorry that he's gone."
Harry thought about that. Before he could reply, Draco was speaking again.
"I think you think I should be sentimental because you missed having a father at all when you were growing up. But I don't have any reason for regret, Harry. Really."
Harry smiled then. "All right. I just thought . . . yeah. I understand."
"Good, because I'm beat," said Draco. Making his way over to his own bed, he grabbed the vial of potion Snape had given them and downed it, then fell straight into bed. "Bet we get to sleep in," he mumbled. "Mmm, sleep."
Harry grabbed his pyjamas and took them into the bathroom so he could change into them after his shower. When he got back out to their bedroom, Draco was softly snoring, his features so peaceful it seemed he didn't have a care in the world.
For his own part, Harry didn't expect to sleep so soundly, potion or no. It wasn't that it bothered him to have killed Lucius. No, it bothered him that it didn't. He should feel bad about it, shouldn't he? He'd tried his best to feel bad on account of hurting Draco, but Draco had refused to let him. So now Harry was left feeling like he had no reason at all to feel bad. And that was just wrong, wasn't it? He'd killed somebody! He was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to feel . . . well, fine about it.
Or more than fine. When he really thought about what he'd done to Lucius, he mostly felt happy. The man had had a heart of stone. Had been cold, clear through. The fact that he was marble now, and stuck that way forever, seemed a fitting end.
Still, though, Harry'd never wanted to kill anybody. Not even after hearing the prophecy. But now he had. So why didn't that bother him?
Sighing, Harry took his own portion of Dreamless Sleep, then lay down in bed and tried to rest.
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On Sunday afternoon, Snape called the boys in early from their flying. "There's to be an Order meeting tonight to discuss recent events."
Harry sighed. "We'll save you some dinner, then. Or will you eat there?"
"Actually, I've an offer to extend. I think that those who experienced the events which precipitated this meeting should be in attendance."
It took Harry a second to work that out. "You want us to go? Seriously?"
Snape gave a brief nod. "Excluding you from the Order is, in my view, a pointless endeavour. I've prevailed upon Albus to this end. As of tonight, you'll both be considered members in full standing. However . . ." Here, his voice became stern. "I fully expect you to approach your Order duties with responsibility beyond your years. You will follow orders, you will respect the chain of command, and you will not use Order information to involve your friends in any hare-brained Gryffindor heroics." Snape snorted slightly. "Not even if the situation seems dire or the adventure seems foolproof!"
"I think that last bit's meant for you, Harry," Draco quipped in a stage whisper.
Harry folded his arms. "Well, speaking of friends, I think Ron and Hermione ought to get to join too! And Neville, and Luna. And Ginny--"
"And the Snitch as well?" asked Snape snidely.
"They've been there for me."
"I won't ask Albus to allow any additional underage members. In any case, the issue is moot without the blessing of their parents."
Harry frowned knowing the unlikelihood of Molly Weasley actually consenting to let any of her younger children put themselves directly into danger.
"Harry, leave it," said Draco. "It was probably a close thing them letting me in."
Severus didn't reply, but the look on his face spoke for him. There were clearly Order members with reservations about Draco. Harry supposed that was only to be expected, considering. It would probably be a long time before he'd proven himself. And some members, like Moody, might never trust him even so.
Ha, would never trust him. Look at everything Snape had done for the Order!
The three of them ate an early dinner together, and then were the last to arrive at the Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry wasn't sure if this was due to his father's preference for dramatic entrances or if he merely wanted to give the headmaster a chance to handle any arguments against the boys' attendance.
The meeting was conducted in the kitchen, which seemed odd to Harry, considering the number of people in attendance. Why transfigure a larger table and more chairs in here when there was a spacious parlour available? Even the formal dining room would have ample room for everyone who had come. But the kitchen?
Well, I always did feel most comfortable in here. Maybe this room's been more thoroughly purged of the Dark Arts than the rest of the house has, Harry mused. Part of him knew, though, that Snape and Remus had gotten rid of every trace of Dark Arts in the dwelling, months and months ago.