Chapter 3
The Malfoy Manor
Draco opened his eyes. The rush of
air stung his pupils and he winced. A sudden gust of wind blew through
his pale hair, whistled through his robes, whispered near his ears.
He smiled slightly as he was struck with the familiar smell of freshly
mown grass mingled with the aromatic scent of his mother’s favorite
daffodils.
“All right there, Dear?”
Roger’s mother was looking at him uncertainly while occasionally fluttering
her eyes towards the Malfoy Manor. “I’ve come to the right spot,
haven’t I?”
“What? Oh, yeah, this is it,” Draco
replied vaguely. He suddenly noticed a strange pressure on his left
hand, and jerked his arm away from Roger’s mother’s firm grip.
He stumbled slightly and mumbled, “Oh-“
“No worries,” she replied kindly.
An awkward pause lingered for a few
moments until Draco cleared his throat. “Well, Mrs.-” He paused
uncertainly, realizing that he did not know Roger’s surname.
“Mrs. Laurry. But please, call me
Shannon.”
“Fine.”
Mrs. Laurry, glancing again at the
manor, asked hesitantly, “What’s that squawking noise I hear?”
Draco strained his ears (which were
still buzzing from Apparating). And then he heard it; a faint screeching
coming from behind the gates. “Oh that,” Draco said, rolling
his eyes. “Those are the peacocks.”
“Peacocks?” Mrs. Laurry sputtered
indecorously. “Why, in Merlin’s name, are there peacocks on your
lawn?”
“Mr. Malfoy is actually quite fond
of them,” Draco replied coolly.
Mrs. Laurry blushed and mumbled, “Oh-I
see…well, that’s lovely-”
“No matter,” Draco said.
“So, are we going in, Dennis?”
Draco looked at Mrs. Laurry appraisingly.
Her gray hair seemed more bushy than usual and her bulky coat was frayed
and patched up with tacky patterned squares. At the moment, she was
constantly licking her chapped lips and was picking dirt from beneath
her nails (rather nervously, Draco noticed). At one thought of what
his mother would say once she saw him accompanying her, he made his
decision.
“Actually,” Draco began slowly.
“I think it’d be best if you stayed here.”
“Are-are you sure?” Mrs. Laurry
asked earnestly, although she looked considerably relieved. “Really,
Dennis, it’s no problem at all.”
“No, really. It would be for the
best.” He didn’t bother masking the obvious rudeness in his tone.
But Mrs. Laurry took no notice of Draco’s
impolite behavior. In fact, rather than looking indignant, she began
to chew her bottom lip, making her look more anxious than before. She
looked as though she desperately wanted to say something, but her lack
of eye contact made it apparent that she was not going to bring it up
on her own.
“Is there something wrong?” Draco
asked.
“Something wrong? Oh, of course
not.”
When Draco did not retract his pointed
stare, she held her breath, but reluctantly continued. “Well- I’m
just curious. How do you happen to know the Malfoys? I mean, with their-
not so popular image these days, one can never be too sure…” At
her last sentence, she trailed off and averted her eyes towards her
shoes, pretending to be very interested in crushing a line of ants that
marched by her toes.
Draco had been prepared for the question-
after all, it was bound to come up, wasn’t it? Here he was, Apparating
onto the threshold of one of the most hated wizarding families of all
time- it would be foolish to think that even a frumpy witch like Mrs.
Laurry would remain silent.
“My mother works here as Mrs. Malfoy’s
personal cook. The Malfoy family has let my mother and me stay on the
ground floor as residents.” Draco gazed steadily at Mrs. Laurry, though
he could feel a shameful flush run up his neck…the only Malfoy heir
posing as a cook’s son…his father would have been appalled.
“Ah, I see! It must be horrible.
Very nasty people, the Malfoys, aren’t they?” Mrs. Laurry looked
very different now. She was leaning slightly in towards Draco, as though
they were two old friends gossiping about the latest celebrity romance.
“Oh yes…very nasty,” Draco replied
coolly. He took a step back. “I suppose I should leave now.”
“Oh yes, of course.” She straightened
her back, but looked strangely put-out. “Here, take this-“ She stuffed
a hand down one of the many pockets of her coat and rummaged around.
“Here, somewhere- urgh, here it is.”
Draco stared disgustedly at the crumb
covered slip of paper held in her hand.
Noticing his appalled stare, Mrs. Laurry
sheepishly dusted the paper on her coat. “It has our address on it;
I always keep one handy for my clients- I do a bit of babysitting business
you know. I don’t know if Roger told you, but I do love children…”
A vague smile drifted onto her face. “Now where was I? Oh yes, anyhow,
in case you need anything, feel free to owl Roger. We’d be glad to
help.”
“Er-alright,” Draco said dispassionately.
He quickly snatched the piece of paper from her hand and stuffed it
in his cloak.
“Well, goodbye, Dennis.” Without
warning, she grabbed Draco and pulled him into a strangling hug.
Draco immediately stiffened and subtly
struggled out of her embrace. Now, his cheeks were visibly blushing.
“Goodbye, then,” he said quickly. Turning around, he swiftly began
to march towards the iron gates. He turned around, thinking he ought
to have at least waved, but Mrs. Laurry was already gone.
As his father was rather strict concerning
his privacy, it was a fair distance from where Mrs. Laurry and Draco
had Apparated to the front gates. As he walked on, he saw several peacocks
gracefully strutting around the grassy lawn behind the gate, majestically
displaying their colorful plumage. Draco smirked as he saw one topple
flat onto its face, sliding on the wet grass. Still grimacing, he reached
the kissing gates.
The gates were old structures, made
of wrought iron and embellished with luxurious carvings. It was
one of Draco’s few treasured items in life. He saw the coldness and
dignity of the gate to mirror his own personality. Tapping the end of
his wand to the metal of the gate, he quickly muttered the Malfoy family
motto (‘tojours pur’). The gates swung open, causing the
peackocks to scurry to safety. Draco, smirking once more, walked in
onto the gravel path that led towards the manor.
He soon reached the wodden folding
doors of the manor and knocked using the steel snake-shaped handle that
hung near the eyehole. Draco frowned slightly as he heard tense muttering
coming from behind the doors.
The doors swung open, revealing Draco’s
mother looking worried and flustered; not at all like her usual poised
self. Her long blonde was messily held together with an emerald clip
while her face appeared gaunt and tired. She wore a green silk robe
and her wand was warily held by her ring adorned hand.
“Draco!” she shrieked as she pulled him inside by the front of his robes. She quickly returned her wand to her pocket and stroked his hair. “Where in the world have you been? Bella didn’t know-”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “Of course
she knew. She was at the meeting.”
Narcissa froze, her lips set
in a straight line. “Bella!” she yelled viciously into the hallway
behind her. “Bella, come this instance!” She pulled Draco into the
foyer and set him onto a maroon love seat. Pointing her wand at the
fireplace, she renewed the flame.
Draco sighed in relief as the warmth
of the fireplace washed over him like a hot bath. Just as he was about
to set his head on one of the fluffy pillows, he noticed the water tracks
that he had made on the lavish carpet. Guiltily, he glanced at his mother,
sure that she would have a fit.
Surprisingly, Narcissa smiled. “Do
not worry,Draco. Lolly will take care of it. Lolly!”
Seconds later, a house-elf appeared
out of thin air in the living room, shaking with fright.
“Y-yes, Miss?” the Lolly stuttered.
She nervously clutched her dirty robes as she rocked back and forth
on her heels. Her large brown eyes caught sight of Draco and she courteously
bowed.
“Lolly, clean this up. And bring
Draco some new robes.”
Lolly’s shoulders fell and she loosened
her grip on her filthy rag. She seemed to look considerably less tense.
“Of course, Miss. Right away.” With a snap of her fingers, she Disapparated.
Narcissa sighed heavily as she leaned
her head out of the archway that led into the foyer.
“Bella!” Narcissa barked. “Bella,
there you are.” She drew her head back into the room, her eyes once
again ablaze.
Draco’s aunt entered the foyer looking
highly displeased. Though her clothes were dry and seemed newly pressed,
her hair was now formed of tight frizzy ringlets as opposed to her usual
sleek black mane.
“Got caught in the rain, Aunt Bella?”
Draco sneered.
Bella’s lip curled in annoyance,
but she refrained from retorting. “How nice of you to join us, Draco,”
she spat.
“How nice? How nice of him?”
Narcissa shreiked hysterically. Her icy eyes were now bulging as she
furiously yelled at her sister. “You said you had no idea…said the
last you saw of him was when the Dark Lord requested to speak to him
alone.”
“He did!” Bellatrix yelled in reply.
“He also said that he wasn’t
going to kill me,” Draco quickly interjected. “Unless you had suddenly
gone deaf, Aunt Bella, I see no reason as to why you failed to hear
that.”
“You…you dare speak to me like
that! You were as good as dead. After Lucius’ failure last year, the
chances of the Dark Lord giving you this ‘special’ task...proposterous.
The Dark Lord is not so foolish to place his interests in a family that
clearly posesses no true loyalty to the cause.”
Narcissa opened her mouth to interrupt,
but Draco was faster.
“Why would the Dark Lord hide
his descision to kill me, then? Are you really so overconfident that
you think he wouldn’t want to look crass infront of his ‘most loyal
servant’?”
“I was acting in the best interests
of Narcissa! Rather than give her false hope, I prepared her for the
likely outcome. Even more, you were gone so long. Was I honestly supposed
to tell your mother that you were merely having a nice long chat over
a cup of tea with the Dark Lord?”
“The only reason that I was gone
so long was that you had forgotten to come back,” Draco hissed in
reply. “I’m not of age, remember? I can’t Apparate. I had to walk
out of that clearing into that Great Hangleton village and get a bloody
Muggle lover to Apparate me back home.”
“The Dark Lord said for us to leave,
and I thought-”
“Thought what? That he’d turn a
tree stump into a lovely Portkey for me? Of course, the Dark Lord is
just so worried about me getting wet and dying of pneumonia.”
“Don’t you dare get cheeky with
me you ungrateful-”
“ENOUGH!” cried Narcissa suddenly.
With wisps of hair floating around her face and her face livid, she
seemed quite hysterical. “That is enough.” She slowly closed her
eyes and brought her hand to her forehead as she massaged her temples.
“I’ve heard enough. Draco- what did the Dark Lord want?”
“Cissy, the Dark Lord’s orders
are to be kept within the Death Eater ring,” interrupted Bella.
“He is my son,” said Narcissa dangerously.
“Besides, surely the Dark Lord does not expect a mere boy
to complete this task on his own.”
“I’m to do it alone, Mother,”
Draco said, feeling annoyed. Did they all feel the constant urge to
remind him of his own age?
“What is ‘it’, Draco?”
Narcissa asked quietly.
“Stop,” said Bella hurridley. She
glanced menacingly at her nephew. “Draco, you are to only tell me.
I repeat, orders are to be kept within the Death Eaters.’
“I am good as a Death Eater, Bella.
First, I sacrificed my husband, and now my son…there should be no
higher position in the Dark Lord’s eyes.” At this, Narcissa’s
voice wavered. Draco could see her visibly attempting to surpress the
tears that were now running down her cheeks.
Draco felt a foreign pang in his heart
as he saw his mother’s tears and her distressed expression. Turning
to Bella, he said coolly, “My mother is right. She is as good as any
Death Eater. Besides, what the Dark Lord does not know will not hurt
him.”
“The Dark Lord knows everything,”
replied Bella shortly. She looked at Narcissa, but made no move to comfort
her sister.
Draco ignored her and turned to his
mother. “The Dark Lord wants me to kill Dumbledore.”
Bella gasped and Narcissa snapped her
head up from her hands, her eyes wide and disbelieving.
Draco avoided their gazes and looked
down at his knees. He felt his face grow hot as he sensed the eyes
of both his mother and Aunt Bella focusing on his body.
After the silent pause lingered for
what seemed to be a few hours, Bella sputtered, “Well that’s…impossible.
For Merlin’s sake, you’re only-“
“Sixteen, yes I know,” Draco snapped.
“Do you think that the Dark Lord has not realized that?”
“She’s right,” Narcissa said
suddenly in a dazed voice. “It’s impossible. This is a punishment,
because of Lucius. How dare he…the Dark Lord has no right…” She
shook her head and laughed in a pitch that was very much not her own.
“Do not blame the Dark Lord,” Bella
said forcefully. “Be thankful! Yes, the task is impossible. But better
die serving the Dark Lord than by suffering his wrath!”
“I am not going to die,”
Draco said loudly.
Both women ignored him and Narcissa
pressed on. “Are you saying it is an honor for my son to die?”
she asked shrilly.
“Narcissa, there are no other options.”
“Options! Of course there are options.
We can run-“
“No,” said Draco suddenly. “We
are not running away. Besides, the Dark Lord is sure to find us.”
“Then,” Narcissa began in a strained
voice, “what do you propose we do, Draco? You, a mere boy of sixteen,
and my son- what do you suggest we do?”
Draco paused.” I suppose I have no
choice but to follow through.”
Satisfaction filled Bella’s eyes.
“Excellent, Draco,” she said in a smug tone. “Your father will
be pleased.” Her mouth shifted into a strange grimace which Draco
could only interpret as her best attempt at a smile.
Draco did not return his aunt’s friendly
gesture. He turned to his mother and looked at her tentatively.
“No,” Narcissa whispered. “I-
I refuse.”
“We can’t, Mother.”
Narcissa bit her lip as she breathed
shakily with her eyes closed. Her hands clutched the couch tightly,
her knuckles turning a ghostly white. Her pale eyberows furrowed as
she appeared to be deep in thought. Draco could almost see the gears
whirring in her head.
Bella cleared her throat and said,
“Well, I suppose there really isn’t anything else to say. I’m
off.” She nodded at Draco and Narcissa, and walked towards the archway.
“Bella,” Narcissa said quickly.
“Perhaps…perhaps we ought to visit Severus.”
Bella furrowed her eyebrows. “What
for?”
“Just to discuss some things.”
“There’s nothing that Professor
Snape can do,” said Draco immediately. “This is the Dark Lord we’re
dealing with.”
“Yes, but Severus has always been
a trusted advisor of the Dark Lord’s,” Narcissa said earnestly.
Bellatrix snorted. “Most trusted
advisor, ha! Snape was never there during the Dark Lord’s fall. His
loyalty only lies with Dumbledore…comfortably acting as Dumbledore’s
pet while the rest of us are serving the Dark Lord.”
“If that was true, would you think
that he’d still be walking, alive and healthy to this day?” Draco
asked snidely.
“Draco is right,” said Narcissa.
“The Dark Lord trusts him…no, needs him enough to keep him alive
to this day. While he can not change the Dark Lord’s mind, of course,
he still may be able to help.”
“How’s that?” Draco asked, confused.
“Oh, nothing.”
Draco surveyed his mother suspiciously
as she darted her eyes, avoiding his gaze. Draco opened his mouth to
continue interrogating her, but she suddenly summoned her cloak from
the rack across the room.
“Yes, Bella. I think it is time to
visit Severus.”
“Cissy, I don’t understand. What’s
this-“
“I’ll explain it later.” Narcissa
gave her sister a sharp look, to which Bella immediately fell grudgingly
silent.
“Draco, when Lolly comes, make sure
to change.” Narcissa draped the moleskin cloak over her shoulders.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Tell Lolly to leave supper out.
I might be late.” She looked at Draco, smiling sadly, her eyes tired
and worn. She grazed his chin with her hand, and Draco leaned into her
palm.“Come, Bella,” she said.
Both women walked out of the foyer
with their cloaks streaming behind them as Draco remained seated on
the couch. He stared at the trickling flame as it flickered back and
forth, feeling as though the thoughts in his head were swimming in a
similar fashion. His aunt and mother were surely right…the Dark Lord’s
task was impossible, even for the most capable of wizards. Dumbledore
may be the greatest wizard alive, exempting the Dark Lord, and he, at
only sixteen, was supposed to effeciently end his life. Draco’s stomach
clenched as he was reminded of an even more sickening thought; he refused
to believe that the Dark Lord had only chosen him for the task as a
means to cruelly punish his father…no, he wouldn’t believe it…afterall,
the Dark Lord had chosen him above all others. He’d been branded
with the Dark Mark- the Dark Lord respected him.
Minutes trickled by as the fire began
to simmer down. “Well, that’s that,” Draco quietly muttered to
no one in particular. He reluctantly hoisted himself up from the chair
when a sudden crack broke the silence. Draco yelped with surprise.
“Merlin, Lolly!”
Lolly’s eyes widened with fear. “I
is- is sorry, Master Draco. I is not meaning to frighten you.”
“What is it then?” Draco snapped
irritably.
“Master’s supper is ready, and
his clothes is in his room.”
“I’ll be there soon. Make sure
it doesn’t get cold. Leave Mother’s out as well.”
“Yes, of course, Master.” She bowed
and Disapparated once more.
Draco returned his gaze to the fire.
The flames were furiously thrashing around, beating at each other as
they flashed a mixture of red, orange, and yellow. The crackling of
the fire reminded Draco of his fifth Christmas, which had taken place
in the very room in which he stood now. His mother’s warm arms had
been embracing him from behind as he opened his first present of the
evening. It was a broomstick, the flashiest of its time. A shiny handle
and neat bristles completed the magical allure; it was more than what
Draco could have hoped for. In his excitement, he had immediately mounted
the room and proceeded to attempt to clumsily fly. Mistakenly, he had
flown right into his father’s legs, knocking him over. Mr. Malfoy
calmly and soundlesly took the new, beautiful broomstick, snapped it
in two, and threw it amongst the burning embers of the fireplace. He
turned to his wife and whispered, “He will never be good enough. Never.”
He then proceeded to walk out of the room, all whislt ignoring Draco’s
incoherent sobs coming from within the folds of Narcissa’s arms.
Draco swallowed and tried to surpress
the bubble of rage that was beginning to form in his chest. He extinguished
the fire and walked out of the foyer towards the manor’s stairs, all
while ignoring the single tear that trailed down his cheek.
Author notes: Please review, as they help so much. Oh and I can DEFF. promise some D/G action next chapter. And hopefully, this update will be quicker than this one, as I already have 1/2 of this chapter written. Thanks again!