Draco arrived home and was met at the door by his mother. She pulled him into a hug and exclaimed, “Oh, my dear! I’ve missed you so much!”
Draco looked down at her and smiled fondly. Whatever his father was or did, this woman was always there. A bulwark figure that Draco could cling to. They weren’t close, by any means, as showing emotion of any kind had always been a weakness to the Malfoys. But there was still some sort of bond between them.
Now, after everything that had happened, and was still happening, he noticed how pale and drawn she looked. Much like himself, in fact. The last couple of years had been hard on everyone.
Narcissa smiled back. “Now,” she said. “Up to your room. I managed to convince your father to wait until tomorrow to tell you the plan by saying that you would be tired from your trip. He’s very excited about all this and wants you to be awake enough to appreciate it.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Draco replied, kissing her cheek. “I am tired.”
Handing his luggage off to a house-elf, Draco headed upstairs to his room to settle in. When he got there, he looked around at the place that had always been his haven. The only room in the whole house he could hide in, as his father always assumed if he ran away, that he would go anywhere but there.
He eyed the green and silver decorations that covered every part of his room. Finding that it reminded him too much of school and the things that had happened there, he waved his wand.
The curtains and bedclothes turned a deep, rich, charcoal-ish black. The posters on his wall changed from waving, glum-looking Slytherin Quidditch players to flying, fire-breathing dragons. The walls themselves became white.
Better, he thought with a nod.
Draco waved his wand again and his trunk began to unpack itself. He sat down on his bed with a book while clothes and school supplies whizzed around the room. Before he’d even begun to read, however, a house-elf appeared beside him with a crack.
Groaning, Draco turned to the creature. “What, Rinky?” he asked grumpily.
“Mistress is sending Rinky to ask if young Master is needing anything,” was the quiet reply. House-elves knew better than to speak loudly.
“I don’t need anything,” Draco answered. He hesitated a minute, then determinedly added, “Thank you, Rinky.”
“Master is thanking Rinky?” the elf gasped, seeming genuinely surprised, which was really to be expected. “Rinky is only doing her job. Rinky is not needing thanks.”
“Nonsense!” Draco told her. “You are doing wonderfully and I want to thank you.” He was kind of shocked at what he was saying, but it did make him feel pretty good.
“But Master is never thanking Rinky!” the elf continued, her voice rising slowly in pitch.
“Yes, that’s true, Rinky. But I’ve decided that I need to do better. To be better. I have always been cruel and selfish.”
“No!” Rinky fairly threw herself at him. “Master must not say such things about himself! Master is very good! Master must be good to say thank you!”
Now it was Draco’s turn to be surprised. “Well. Thank you again, Rinky. You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”
“Master is welcome.” And then Rinky disappeared with another crack.
Draco sat silently for a minute, thinking about what had just occurred. All of his life he had thought of himself as better than everyone. If anyone did anything for him, it was because it was their duty. He couldn’t remember a time in which he’d said thank you to anyone ‘beneath’ him.
This last bit made him stop. Who really was better than who? How was that decided? Draco had always been important because his family was important. His family was important because one of his ancestors managed to make a name for himself and that sort of thing carried over.
But Voldemort didn’t have any family and he was the most feared wizard… probably ever. So much so that no one even said his name.
Draco thought on this for a long time before finally deciding: it wasn’t any real power or greatness that put Voldemort in his position of control. It was fear. People were afraid of him, so they didn’t stand up to him. And people were afraid of him because he’d already shown that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
This thought caused Draco to sit up straight. I won’t be afraid! he told himself. When Father tells me about the plan, I’m going to go straight to Professor McGonagall! She’s the only one I know I can trust.
Having decided this, he settled back in with his book. He remained in his room the rest of the day, enjoying the quiet.
The next day, however, was not so quiet. Lucius insisted that Draco had had enough rest and needed to come down for breakfast. He declared that one day in bed was enough for anyone who wasn’t sick.
The meal was stiff and formal, just like all the other meals the Malfoys ate together. Draco had never really considered, until the year before, just how formidable his father was. As a young boy, he’d idolized the man, desiring to be just like him. The way he could command anyone to do anything and it would be done.
Now Draco understood the reason for this. There was a dark gleam in Lucius’ eyes that seemed to say “Obey me, or I’ll make your life a living hell!”
Looking at his father, Draco felt a chill run up his spine. He’d never been on the receiving end of that look. He’d managed to emulate it, not really realizing just how intimidating it was.
The meal ended at last and Lucius disappeared into his study. Narcissa leaned close to Draco as soon as they were alone and whispered, “Do not be afraid of him, son. He is a powerful man, yes, but he would never do anything to endanger you.”
Of course not, Draco thought bitterly. I’m too valuable to be wasted in such a way.
Draco hugged his mother and tried to reassure her that he wasn’t afraid. An image of someone else recently trying to comfort him flashed through his memory.
Narcissa noticed the change in his expression and jumped on the realization. “You’ve met a girl,” she said aloud.
“What?” Where did that come from? Did she know something? Surprised thoughts shot through Draco’s head rapidly.
Narcissa shook her head, but the smile was still there. Draco wanted to talk to her some more, but at that moment, Lucius opened the door and called him in. All thoughts of Ginny Weasley fled his mind as Draco went into the dark room.
Lucius sat behind the large mahogany desk and motioned for Draco to take the seat across from him. He folded his hands in front of him and stared at his son for a long minute, as though trying to see inside his head.
Draco shifted slightly in his chair, grateful that his father was terrible at Legilimency. He would never know the thoughts that were on his mind at that very moment.
Finally, Lucius spoke. “I am glad to say, Draco, that the Dark Lord does not seem to be angry with you over your failure last year. I think he must be more forgiving than I am.”
Ha! Right. It took an awful lot of willpower not to roll his eyes.
“Now…” Here he pulled out a bunch of papers. “The task that has been set for you is a fairly simple one… little room for mistake.” He gave Draco a stern look.
“You must determine what wards are being used to protect Hogwarts and relay the information back to me. I will then give it to Him.”
Draco nodded to show that he understood. Lucius handed him a few of the papers from the stack. On them, Draco discovered, were hand-written instructions for spells.
These are spells I am going to teach you that will enable you to detect the defensive magic,” Lucius told him. “While you’re here, we will be studying together all day, every day, until you can do them properly.”
He handed Draco a couple more papers and explained, “This is a set of instructions for a complex spying spell. It is an invention of the Dark Lord himself. He spent months working on it. Undetectable by most magic.
“When I teach you this,” he went on, “ you are going to guard the secret with your life. If this were to fall into enemy hands… we’d be done and I’ll kill you myself. It’s a valuable asset.
“Once you get back to Hogwarts, you are to place this charm over the school. Be discreet. Anyone who knows it’s there can tap into the magical frequency it emits and know exactly what is going on. Do you understand?”
Draco thought over everything his father had just told him, allowing the information to cement itself in his head. Very slowly, a sly, almost evil grin broke over his face. Lucius gave a gleeful laugh when he saw it.
Draco looked down at her and smiled fondly. Whatever his father was or did, this woman was always there. A bulwark figure that Draco could cling to. They weren’t close, by any means, as showing emotion of any kind had always been a weakness to the Malfoys. But there was still some sort of bond between them.
Now, after everything that had happened, and was still happening, he noticed how pale and drawn she looked. Much like himself, in fact. The last couple of years had been hard on everyone.
Narcissa smiled back. “Now,” she said. “Up to your room. I managed to convince your father to wait until tomorrow to tell you the plan by saying that you would be tired from your trip. He’s very excited about all this and wants you to be awake enough to appreciate it.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Draco replied, kissing her cheek. “I am tired.”
Handing his luggage off to a house-elf, Draco headed upstairs to his room to settle in. When he got there, he looked around at the place that had always been his haven. The only room in the whole house he could hide in, as his father always assumed if he ran away, that he would go anywhere but there.
He eyed the green and silver decorations that covered every part of his room. Finding that it reminded him too much of school and the things that had happened there, he waved his wand.
The curtains and bedclothes turned a deep, rich, charcoal-ish black. The posters on his wall changed from waving, glum-looking Slytherin Quidditch players to flying, fire-breathing dragons. The walls themselves became white.
Better, he thought with a nod.
Draco waved his wand again and his trunk began to unpack itself. He sat down on his bed with a book while clothes and school supplies whizzed around the room. Before he’d even begun to read, however, a house-elf appeared beside him with a crack.
Groaning, Draco turned to the creature. “What, Rinky?” he asked grumpily.
“Mistress is sending Rinky to ask if young Master is needing anything,” was the quiet reply. House-elves knew better than to speak loudly.
“I don’t need anything,” Draco answered. He hesitated a minute, then determinedly added, “Thank you, Rinky.”
“Master is thanking Rinky?” the elf gasped, seeming genuinely surprised, which was really to be expected. “Rinky is only doing her job. Rinky is not needing thanks.”
“Nonsense!” Draco told her. “You are doing wonderfully and I want to thank you.” He was kind of shocked at what he was saying, but it did make him feel pretty good.
“But Master is never thanking Rinky!” the elf continued, her voice rising slowly in pitch.
“Yes, that’s true, Rinky. But I’ve decided that I need to do better. To be better. I have always been cruel and selfish.”
“No!” Rinky fairly threw herself at him. “Master must not say such things about himself! Master is very good! Master must be good to say thank you!”
Now it was Draco’s turn to be surprised. “Well. Thank you again, Rinky. You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”
“Master is welcome.” And then Rinky disappeared with another crack.
Draco sat silently for a minute, thinking about what had just occurred. All of his life he had thought of himself as better than everyone. If anyone did anything for him, it was because it was their duty. He couldn’t remember a time in which he’d said thank you to anyone ‘beneath’ him.
This last bit made him stop. Who really was better than who? How was that decided? Draco had always been important because his family was important. His family was important because one of his ancestors managed to make a name for himself and that sort of thing carried over.
But Voldemort didn’t have any family and he was the most feared wizard… probably ever. So much so that no one even said his name.
Draco thought on this for a long time before finally deciding: it wasn’t any real power or greatness that put Voldemort in his position of control. It was fear. People were afraid of him, so they didn’t stand up to him. And people were afraid of him because he’d already shown that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
This thought caused Draco to sit up straight. I won’t be afraid! he told himself. When Father tells me about the plan, I’m going to go straight to Professor McGonagall! She’s the only one I know I can trust.
Having decided this, he settled back in with his book. He remained in his room the rest of the day, enjoying the quiet.
The next day, however, was not so quiet. Lucius insisted that Draco had had enough rest and needed to come down for breakfast. He declared that one day in bed was enough for anyone who wasn’t sick.
The meal was stiff and formal, just like all the other meals the Malfoys ate together. Draco had never really considered, until the year before, just how formidable his father was. As a young boy, he’d idolized the man, desiring to be just like him. The way he could command anyone to do anything and it would be done.
Now Draco understood the reason for this. There was a dark gleam in Lucius’ eyes that seemed to say “Obey me, or I’ll make your life a living hell!”
Looking at his father, Draco felt a chill run up his spine. He’d never been on the receiving end of that look. He’d managed to emulate it, not really realizing just how intimidating it was.
The meal ended at last and Lucius disappeared into his study. Narcissa leaned close to Draco as soon as they were alone and whispered, “Do not be afraid of him, son. He is a powerful man, yes, but he would never do anything to endanger you.”
Of course not, Draco thought bitterly. I’m too valuable to be wasted in such a way.
Draco hugged his mother and tried to reassure her that he wasn’t afraid. An image of someone else recently trying to comfort him flashed through his memory.
Narcissa noticed the change in his expression and jumped on the realization. “You’ve met a girl,” she said aloud.
“What?” Where did that come from? Did she know something? Surprised thoughts shot through Draco’s head rapidly.
Narcissa shook her head, but the smile was still there. Draco wanted to talk to her some more, but at that moment, Lucius opened the door and called him in. All thoughts of Ginny Weasley fled his mind as Draco went into the dark room.
Lucius sat behind the large mahogany desk and motioned for Draco to take the seat across from him. He folded his hands in front of him and stared at his son for a long minute, as though trying to see inside his head.
Draco shifted slightly in his chair, grateful that his father was terrible at Legilimency. He would never know the thoughts that were on his mind at that very moment.
Finally, Lucius spoke. “I am glad to say, Draco, that the Dark Lord does not seem to be angry with you over your failure last year. I think he must be more forgiving than I am.”
Ha! Right. It took an awful lot of willpower not to roll his eyes.
“Now…” Here he pulled out a bunch of papers. “The task that has been set for you is a fairly simple one… little room for mistake.” He gave Draco a stern look.
“You must determine what wards are being used to protect Hogwarts and relay the information back to me. I will then give it to Him.”
Draco nodded to show that he understood. Lucius handed him a few of the papers from the stack. On them, Draco discovered, were hand-written instructions for spells.
These are spells I am going to teach you that will enable you to detect the defensive magic,” Lucius told him. “While you’re here, we will be studying together all day, every day, until you can do them properly.”
He handed Draco a couple more papers and explained, “This is a set of instructions for a complex spying spell. It is an invention of the Dark Lord himself. He spent months working on it. Undetectable by most magic.
“When I teach you this,” he went on, “ you are going to guard the secret with your life. If this were to fall into enemy hands… we’d be done and I’ll kill you myself. It’s a valuable asset.
“Once you get back to Hogwarts, you are to place this charm over the school. Be discreet. Anyone who knows it’s there can tap into the magical frequency it emits and know exactly what is going on. Do you understand?”
Draco thought over everything his father had just told him, allowing the information to cement itself in his head. Very slowly, a sly, almost evil grin broke over his face. Lucius gave a gleeful laugh when he saw it.
Author notes: So... Whatcha think? Anyone anxious for more? Let me know your honest opinion, just don't be mean. Constructive criticism is just as good for me as telling me you like everything. So review! Much thanks to Rosalie, 4everdandg, psyche, and bee245! Loves!
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