"And what are you going to tell Albus?" It was McGonagall who asked the question. Her lips were pinched together so tightly they had almost disappeared. Draco perked up a little. It seemed that they had at least one professor on their side. Maybe the situation had become too ridiculous for her to make up excuses for Dumbledore any longer.
Lupin glanced back and forth for a moment as though looking for someone to release him from the ropes. Then he shifted to the side so that he was probably a little more comfortable. Draco tensed, but Lupin didn't leap at Henry, just looked at him solemnly.
"I'm going to tell him that I didn't smell anything, and that he would be better served by talking with you. I don't know if he'll listen to me, either, but at least he won't think that I'm possessed or a former Death Eater."
"Father had his arm cut off," Draco snapped. "What's it going to take for Dumbledore to trust him? He's a bloody fool."
"Five points from Slytherin for your language, Mr. Malfoy!"
Draco scowled at McGonagall. Honestly, she was probably just grabbing for some familiarity in the middle of all this, but it was still a bloody stupid thing to do.
"I am going to tell Dumbledore that I didn't smell anything," Lupin repeated. "And then I'm going to tell him that I quit."
Henry leaned forwards and blinked. "You're not going to fight Voldemort?"
Draco jumped despite himself, and scowled at his brother. Henry shrugged, his attention divided between Draco and Lupin.
"No, I'll do that. But I'm done running spying missions and the like on you, Harry. You need to be able to live your life and not distrust the people who should be your allies in this war." Lupin sighed. "I'll say the same thing to Sirius."
"Okay," Henry said slowly. Draco nodded. They could let Lupin go since he wasn't an immediate threat—the sense of that had slipped away from Draco like a blanket once he got Lupin tied up—but they would just wait and see if he would actually keep his promise.
McGonagall released the ropes. Lupin rose to his feet, slowly, hands held up. Draco still watched him. He wasn't holding a wand, but a werewolf's immense strength could still rip through stone walls.
"Thank you for the chance to speak with you, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said, and inclined his head at Draco. "Harry. Minerva." And he turned and walked away, each motion large and exaggerated.
Draco watched him go and shook his head. Better late than never, he supposed, although he still didn't trust Lupin.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "Come along to class, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy—ah, the elder—your brother is safe now. I will see to it."
Draco turned around, about to say that he would escort Henry the rest of the way to the classroom door, but found McGonagall holding her wand up in front of her as if she were going to swear an oath on it. He narrowed his eyes and considered her for a long, silent moment.
She was right at the edge of some breaking point, he thought. Maybe a realization, like Lupin's. She desperately wanted to protect Henry, and Draco would take something away from her if he insisted on doing it himself.
Sometimes, you have to take a risk, he thought. And it helped a lot that he wasn't getting the same threat-sense from her that he had at first from Lupin.
"Very well," he said slowly.
McGonagall nodded briskly to him and walked up to Henry. Henry met Draco's eyes, Draco nodded, and Henry dropped the ward and followed the Transfiguration professor to class.
Draco sighed, and then went to Charms, already composing the letter in his head that he would write to their parents.
"But you don't think you could have been mistaken? Not known enough about the scent of possession or a potion influencing Harry to—"
"Headmaster."
Albus blinked. He had been looking off to the side as he talked, more to himself than Remus, trying to come up with some possible reason for Remus's shocking failure. And now Remus was leaning forwards and had spoken his title, not something he usually did.
When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "I don't believe that Harry is under the influence of anything except a loving family. Of course his behavior would change once he discovered that the Malfoys were his parents and brother. Of course he would have to reevaluate his stance and try to accept them. Do you really think that's the result of Dark Arts? I don't."
"That doesn't account for the change in his magic—"
"Would you have been concerned about the change in his magic and asked me to spy on him if you weren't worried about the change in his morals? I agree that Henry Malfoy probably does some things that Harry Potter didn't. But he's not Harry Potter, and never was. I think that's something all of us are going to have to accept."
Albus sat there and blinked, unnerved. Remus folded his arms and stared back.
"I—will take your words into consideration, Remus," Albus said slowly, while his mind tumbled through what felt like a slow fall. "I still—well, I must admit to concern that the Malfoys have influenced Harry without him influencing them in return."
"Didn't you tell me that Lucius Malfoy cut off his arm? That he has been working with the Minister to sponsor bills and legislation that will make things better for Muggleborns?"
"That is only a political ploy—"
"Cutting off his arm is a political ploy?"
"I meant the things he's doing in the Wizengamot."
....
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