Chapter 59

On the wall above Dee's head was a framed photograph with a glass cover, and Draco used it to watch the two men as they worked their way towards the back of the restaurant, one of them making inquiries of the restaurant patrons, while the other stood back, one hand in his pocket, his gaze sweeping the restaurant repeatedly.

Draco reached across the table.

"I hope you won't mind if I borrow these for a minute," he said, removing Dee's glasses from her face and putting them on his own. The thick, black frames were a bit too small, but it would not be immediately obvious that the glasses were not his. Draco sipped his coffee in apparent unconcern.

"Excuse us," said the taller of the two men, when he reached Draco's table, his hard eyes giving the lie to his friendly expression. "We're looking for a wallet that my friend dropped around here. Have you seen it?"

Dee shook her head no, and then the man turned to Draco. Draco looked him full in the face, their eyes making contact, and immediately felt the force of the man's Legilimens attack. But the invasion merely washed over surface of Draco's mind, and the Ministry investigator saw only images of bland innocence, the boy's dominant thought being that he needed a new pair of glasses. The man turned, and looking at his partner, shook his head in the negative. Draco removed Dee's glasses and waited until the men left.

"Thanks," Draco said, handing the glasses back to Dee.

"Those men were after the missing wallets incredibly fast," she said. "But there was no way they could have possibly figured out it was you. Yet you put my glasses on to disguise yourself. You weren't afraid they'd find out about the wallet. You were afraid of something else."

"Actually, I was afraid they'd find out about the wallet. But yes, I was also afraid they'd recognize me. The hat I am wearing doesn't alter my appearance very much, but I thought if I put on your glasses as well, that might be sufficient. Now, I hate to be rude, but we have to get out of here, because those two men are going to be coming back."

"How do you know that?"

"Trust me." In Dee's mind the investigator's legilemency might well have detected her knowledge that Draco had taken the wallets. And if not, there was no doubt that Draco's powerful Occlumency charm would have been detected by the Ministry. They would be sending reinforcements any minute to the precise place the spell was used. It was time to go, and Draco said as much again.

"Just take my word for it. They'll be back, and we can't be here when they return." Dee had passed a test of some kind when she refrained from giving away Draco to the man looking for a missing wallet. And she passed another test when she rose at Draco's request. She picked up her coat and started to walk past him to the door, but he gently took hold of her arm.

"We'll have to go out the back, if you don't mind." His father had trained him well: 'If you have reason to think you're being followed, don't take the same route back as you took going in.' Draco and Dee exited out the back door, and took a detour on the return to the hospital.

"Shut up!"

"Its true, Imogen, I swear it!" said Harry in protest. "Even as we speak, Draco's spilling his guts to Hermione under Veritaserum." The two were walking outside on the grounds after lunch, able to speak freely without any risk of being overheard.

"I just don't believe it. That's so incredibly dangerous, to slip someone Veritaserum against his will, and right under the nose of Madam Pomfrey. It's just insanely risky. I don't believe Hermione would do anything so careless."

"She didn't just slip it to him," said Harry. "Draco volunteered to take it."

"And why would he want to do something so stupid? Is he trying to get himself expelled?"

Harry stopped as he considered the question.

"There is more than one possibility. Perhaps Draco really is being truthful, and he wants to give us an account of himself. But there is also the distinct possibility that he is lying."

"Under Veritaserum? How is that possible?"

"Suppose Draco's memory has been modified. Veritaserum is not powerful enough to get past that. If at the surface level of his mind he believes something to be the truth, then that's what he'll report under Veritaserum. It would take much more powerful magic to delve deeper."

"So, what he's telling Hermione right now might be totally useless."

"Even if it's all lies, it's not useless. If he's lying, we'll find out soon enough. And then we can examine his lies in more detail, to see where he's trying to lead us."

"It's my shift in the infirmary at the end of lunchtime. And I'm dying to hear what Draco has to say."

"I'm not sure how you'll dislodge Hermione," said Harry. "She already took Ron's spot away from him, and I think you'll have real trouble evicting her. Maybe you can hide under my invisibility cloak."

"That's perfect! Where did you leave it?"

"It's right at the foot of Draco's bed. But you won't be able to see it, I'm afraid. You see, it's being used. By Draco's wife."

Harry started to laugh at Imogen's startled reaction, and laughed even harder when Imogen punched him.

"I'm not lying. Go up their yourself and find out."

"And who's the lucky girl? And I use the term 'lucky' very loosely. It must be someone from Slytherin, of course."

"Wrong again, Imogen. It's amazing how wrong you can be when you don't have the 'books' to guide you. Draco's wife is not a Slytherin, nor a Hogwarts student. In fact, she's not even a witch. She's a Muggle."

"That's it," said Imogen. "I'm going up to the infirmary right now."

"But why did you ask me to come outside? You wanted to tell me about something." After hearing Harry's information, Imogen's message had gone clean out of her mind, and it took her a minute to recall what she had wanted to say.

"I got a note from Magorian. He'll be sending some centaurs to help us near the end of term. I'll tell you about it later." Imogen turned, and ran for the front doors. A group of first years were hanging about the entrance, but they scattered at Imogen's approach. She was, after all, the only Hogwart's student known to have killed someone. A short time later Imogen was standing outside the door to the infirmary, breathless from her run. She paused, composed herself, and then opened the door, slipping in as quietly as possible. But the healer's ears missed nothing, and Pomfrey immediately emerged from her office. Imogen spoke up, knowing the healer's tendency to evict students, and hoping to preempt Pomfrey.

"I know I'm a bit early for my shift, but I thought I'd join Hermione in watching Draco, if you don't mind. I won't make any noise, I promise. I've brought reading to do."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and returned to her office, closing her door. Hermione once again cast the Muffliato charm, so as to ensure that what was said by them would not be overheard by Madam Pomfrey.

"Hi, Imogen," said Draco.

"Oh."

There was a long pause. Imogen was not used to being addressed in civil terms by Draco. She pulled up her chair and sat next to Hermione.

"How are you feeling?" If Draco wanted to try to talk in a reasonable fashion, Imogen would try to do the same.

"Much better, thanks."

Another awkward pause.

"So you're Imogen," said an invisible voice, the speaker suddenly revealed when Dee stepped out from under Harry's invisibility cloak. "Draco tells me you're the only person to have beaten him in a duel in over a year."

"It wasn't much of a win, more like a good piece of luck. I wouldn't chance it again, not if I could avoid it," replied Imogen, sticking out her hand and shaking Dee's firmly.

"Don't be so modest," said Draco as he sat up in bed.

"I thought you were under Veritaserum."

"Until a few moments ago. The dose wore off and it's time for more." Draco lay back on the bed, and soon was telling his story under the effect of veritaserum.

That evening an orderly came to take Draco's tray.

"You hardly touched your food. Are you all right?"

"I feel just fine. Not very hungry, I guess." Indeed not. Earlier that evening Draco had duplicated numerous times the bank note he'd borrowed from Dee, and then afterwards had spent a few of the bills at a local pub. The orderly left with the virtually untouched tray.

Note to self, thought Draco. Must make sure that hospital meals appear at least partially eaten. Draco turned on the TV in his room. It was only that day he'd learned exactly what the box was for. He had assumed that it was yet another of the muggle monitoring instruments in his hospital room, until Dee explained to him what it was for and how it was used. Rather clever, these Muggles. Draco watched a few minutes of a sitcom. At intervals he heard the sound of an audience laughing, but he understood nothing. Many of the words the actors used were meaningless to him, and even the words he should have understood were being used in a context that rendered them incomprehensible. He flipped from channel to channel, hoping to find something that would make sense to him, but without success. He switched off the t.v. using the remote, wondering again how Muggles managed that trick without magic. He went to the small closet and pulled out from under his clothes the copy of the Daily Prophet that he'd retrieved a few days before. The first time he'd read it, he'd had eyes only for Rita Skeeter's article in which she'd given a complete account of her decision to turn herself in to the authorities. He flipped through the paper, looking for something else of interest. But there was very little of substance, and he found himself drawn to the Skeeter article once more. He read it with a different eye, with a mind shaped somewhat by the last few days, a brief interval during which he'd learned more about the Muggle world than he had done previously in his entire lifetime. The tone of the article, so alien to him a few days before, was not so incomprehensible. Skeeter's candour, squeamishly embarrassing to Draco the first time he'd read it, touched him now in a different way.

Draco was soon engrossed in the narrative, seeking an answer to the questions that had puzzled him the first time he'd read the story. What had caused Skeeter to change? What could have pushed her to abandon a lifestyle she'd profited from for decades? Reading on, he understood what he'd missed the first time. Isolated and forbidden to write, Skeeter had, for the first time, been forced into self-reflection. Her new self-awareness had been immediately accompanied by self-loathing, and she had found that it was impossible to know what she was, and yet be what she was. Thus her decision to turn herself in was not so much an act of surrender as the desperate grasp of a lifeline: an act of self-preservation, if not of her life, then of her self-respect.

Draco put the newspaper in its hiding place under his clothes, and after a while, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning Dee joined Draco once more for breakfast, in a different restaurant this time. At the start of the meal, Draco repaid the £5 note she'd lent him the day before. And at the end of the meal, Draco paid for them both, pulling a small stack of notes from his pocket.

"You promised me you wouldn't steal!" said Dee after they left the restaurant.

"And I didn't. I told you I'd never steal again, and I never will."

"How much money do you have, and where did you get it?"

"I didn't count it." Draco passed Dee the bundle of notes as they walked. She stopped on the sidewalk, examining each bill in sequence. She reached into her own pocket, and retrieved the £5 note Draco had repaid her with after the meal.

"These are exact duplicates!" Draco's skill with the Duplicato charm was excellent. But lacking any knowledge of the Muggle world, he had not understood the significance of the serial number. He ought to have tried to randomize the number, but had merely duplicated it.

"How did you make these counterfeit bills? They're perfect!"

"Family secret, I'm afraid. But the main thing is, I didn't steal."

"No, you didn't steal. Instead, you counterfeited. If everybody counterfeited all the time, then all the money would be worthless. We would be back to bartering." The stark disapproval of Dee's tone mattered much more to Draco than the thought that he'd broken Muggle law.

"Are you adding counterfeiting to your list of proscribed activities?"

"Would it matter to you if I did?"

"Yes, actually. It would matter to me a lot." Draco was as surprised to find he had pronounced this reply as was Dee to hear it, but Draco, seeing Dee's features soften, had no desire to take back what he said.

"What's all this then?"

Draco whirled, and gazed up into the face of the tall Muggle police officer who stared down at them, a smile of petty triumph on his face.

"I'll take those, young lady," said the officer, seizing the wad of bills in her hand. "In plain view and all that, so I don't need a warrant." He flipped through the notes, his practiced eye immediately noticing that the serial number was the same on each bill.

"Well, Miss, I think you'll have an easier time getting away with counterfeiting if you learn not to talk about it on the street. The colour printer you have at home is much better than the one we have at the station. If I saw one of these notes just on its own, I'd never suspect it wasn't a true one. I'll have to ask you both to come with me."