(Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling, and do no own Harry Potter.)
Draco sat at
a table in the room he was sharing with the others and read through a stack of
documents that he had brought with him, glancing across the room occasionally
towards the couple that sat comfortably together talking in quiet whispers. There
was a friendly intimacy between Hermione and Ron that he had never experienced,
an angry burning welled up in his chest leaving behind it an empty ache.
Despite the friendlier interactions that he had had with Potter and his friends
during the month after the Battle, Draco knew that they still, ultimately, did
not trust him. And despite all the ways that he had tried to complain to
himself about everything he had been through, attempts to justify himself, he
had never been able to deny the fact that their suspicion of him was, at the
very least, almost entirely his fault. He had learned that there was a special
kind of despair that came with finding yourself in the wrong that was specially
painful. The fact that he would be seeing his parents briefly, before leaving
London to return to Hogwarts, was not much of a relief, and anticipating the
encounter filled him with dread more
than anticipation.
A great deal had changed since the day that the Minister and
his Aurors had taken his parents into protective custody, and Draco had been
forced, repeatedly, to confront the fact that much of what he had been brought
up to believe about the magical superiority of pure-blood witches and wizards
was an outright lie. And then he had come to the abrupt realization that not
only was it a lie, but the fact that it was a lie was rather more obvious than
otherwise. It had been a humbling and disconcerting process, leaving him
feeling stripped of his sense of entitlement and self-aggrandizement, exposed
and hollow.
Reminders of his cruel treatment of others often rose up in
his mind, twisting his insides and stabbing at his conscience until he found
himself torturously treading the halls of the castle in the dead of night. He
hoped against hope that somehow he would be able to rid himself of the sense of
horror that he felt for himself during these times. At his worst moments, he
had found himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, staring down over the edge
where Professor Dumbledore’s body had plummeted when Professor Snape had
uttered the fatal curse.
He returned his attention to the papers in front of him, and
buried himself in the legal and financial business involved in being the heir
of the Malfoy estate. The columns of numbers and the legal language calmed his
mind, and helped him to focus again. He found himself absorbing information
almost unconsciously; the plan that had begun to germinate the night after the
battle was slowly taking form. Business
calmed his mind and stilled the aching in his soul, it gave him something to
do, something rational.
Several hours passed, before Harry Potter returned, and Ron
Weasley left the room. Harry’s face wore an exhausted, numb expression, the way
that Hermione welcomed Harry left Draco with a soul-crushing yearning. He could
see a familiar expression of guilt and sorrow on the other wizard’s face. He
could hear them speaking in low tones from across the room, and found himself
listening rather attentively, and somewhat ashamedly, to their conversation.
Their voices were low, but he could hear them clearly.
Hermione put a cup of tea in Harry’s hand and leaned her
head on his shoulder, “Was it really horrible?” She asked.
“Yeah, I hope I never have to talk about any of this ever
again.” Harry said, adding, “Thanks for this by the way.”
Draco glanced up as subtly as he could and saw a small smile
on Hermione’s face, as she sad, “No problem, just be sure to make me one when I
get back.”
“Of course.” Harry said, “If Ron doesn’t beat me to it
first.”
Hermione gave a small smile. “I wish he’d let me help him
study for the Auror exams.”
“You and I both know it’s better for him this way,” Harry
said, and there was a mischievous tone in his voice as he continued, “Besides,
you’ve always been after us to do our own studying, I’d have thought you’d be
pleased that Ron refused to let you help him out.”
Hermione laughed, “I know, I just miss studying with you
both and I really would love to help him.”
“Don’t tell Ron that, he’ll think that you don’t believe he
can do it.” Harry said more seriously.
“I know, it’s really annoying, I’ve always known he’s rather
brilliant. After all, no one can be THAT good at wizard’s chess and not be
exceptionally intelligent, as much as I loath that game it is quite difficult.
He just never used to apply himself.” Hermione said.
“I think that’s my fault a bit, and the fault of being the
youngest of five rather ridiculously accomplished older brothers.”
“How on earth is it your fault?” Hermione asked rather
heatedly, “You never wanted to be well-known or famous. It’s been the bane of
your life ever since I met you. You hate people loving you for something that
you had no control over, and which cost your parents their lives.”
There was a long silence and then Harry said, “You’re
brilliant, you know, Hermione. I don’t know how either of us would have
survived this year without you. You’re amazing.”
“Oh stop it.” Hermione said, blushing, “I wouldn’t have made
it through without the two of you.”
“Ron went half-mad when you were being tortured.” Harry said
quietly.
“I know, I could hear him, it helped actually. But can we
not talk about it?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“No problem, it’s not a big deal, I just…you know, sometimes
I’m jealous of Neville and Seamus and the others who stayed at school for a
bit.”
“Really? Why?”
“They have to face the place where they were...you know,
they have to see it every day, and it doesn’t seem to have the same hold on
them. I just dread the thought of ever going back, but part of me wants to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, in my head that house is this horrible, terrifying
place, and it’s really not. I mean, it’s just a building, and I hate being
scared of anything.”
“Except heights.”
“I’ve gotten much better with heights I’ll have you know.”
“Right, and Ron is completely in love with spiders.”
“You’re completely off topic, you know that don’t you? Here
I am baring my soul to you, and you go making silly jokes.”
They both laughed, and Harry said, “Sorry. I’m sure that we
can arrange to go there sometime if it’s really bothering you.”
“Do you think he’d be willing to have us go?” Hermione
asked, “I’m still not sure if I trust him.”
“You forgave him, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but forgiveness and trust are totally
different…”
Draco stopped listening, overwhelmed with a painful,
crawling sensation. He spent the rest of the next hour eating small amounts of
food from the heavily laden table along the wall and continuing to pour over
the paperwork. Somehow the peacefulness had all but vanished and it was considerably
more difficult to concentrate, since the conversation that he had overheard.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Ron returned,
accompanied, to Draco’s surprise, by Neville. The large Gryffindor had
developed a distinctly mature and intimidating presence over the past year, and
Draco found himself feeling uncomfortably inferior in his presence, but today there
was something new, he felt the way he did in the presence of much older
wizards. Not just inferior but immature and inadequate. This was not assuaged
by the fact that Neville was the one fellow student who had been openly
friendly towards him, without any hostility or suspicion. Draco always had
disconcerting sense that Neville’s friendliness was largely due to his own
confidence in his ability to defend himself, rather than in actual trust of
Draco as a person. He was acutely aware that Neville felt an undisguised pity
towards him, and it both grated on him and caused him to feel excessive amounts
of shame as he recalled his past behavior towards the other wizard.
Neville gave Hermione a warm hug and shook Harry’s hand,
before sauntering over to where Draco was seated and taking a seat near him.
There was a strange look of resignation on his face, but his voice was firm and
kind when he spoke. “How was the hearing?” he asked.
“It was fine.” Draco said, evasively, “Glad it’s over.”
Neville nodded thoughtfully, and said, “What are your plans
for next year?”
“I can’t really discuss that right now.” Draco said stiffly,
“Although I do plan on returning to Hogwarts and completing my OWLs, the last
two years I’ve been a bit distracted but I think that I can catch up on things
in a year. The Headmistress has generously offered me a chance to return if I
desire to.”
Neville did not seem to find Draco’s stiffness at all
deterring and said, “That reminds me, Kingsley and I have a brief meeting
scheduled after the final hearing. He wanted me to let you know that there
would be a small delay in leaving.”
“Sure.” Said Draco, shortly, returning awkwardly to his
paperwork in the hopes that Neville would leave him alone. He could feel
Neville’s penetrating gaze on him for several minutes, and then the other wizard
stood up and returned to the others.
When Neville and Hermione left for the courtroom the tension
in the room was high, and Draco stirred restlessly. Ron Weasely paced the
floor, and played wizard chess with Harry, Draco considered challenging him,
but Ron had been the most suspicious and distant of the three friends since
Draco’s transformation had begun, and he did not think the other wizard would
welcome the challenge.
It was late when Hermione returned, and the change in the
atmosphere of the room was so palpable that Draco found himself rising from his
seat before he realized what he was doing. Hermione was looking tired and
drawn, but there was a relief on her face that even he found refreshing. They
were done, he took a deep breath and turned towards the table where he poured a
cup of tea and turned to see Ron Weasely standing next to him.
“Do you mind?” The ginger-haired wizard asked.
Draco handed him the cup of tea he had just poured, “Take
this one. I can get myself another.” He said.
“Thanks.” Ron said and then paused awkwardly before turning
on his heel and walking back to the others and handing Hermione the cup of tea.
Draco watched and felt a deep envy welling up again as he saw the look of
grateful affection on the witch’s face. A few minutes later, Draco realized
that Neville was missing from the room.
Deep in the ministry, Neville sat across the desk from
Kingsley staring at him intently, “So if I were to request guardianship of
Dennis, then he would remain with Gran and I until he comes of age?”
“Or for as long as he desires to remain with you.” Kingsley
said, kindly.
“Of course, if that’s the only way that he can stay with us
legally.” Neville said, “I was not aware that was an option. I mean, he’s only
a few years younger than me. What do I need to do?”
“You will need to provide evidence that you are able to
support him financially. His father left him a small inheritance, he appears to
have been a very resourceful man, but the money is locked up in the muggle
courts and it will take some time to recover the funds and transfer them to an
account at Gringots. Unfortunately that is where we run into trouble. Much of
the Longbottom estate is still tied into supporting your grandmother and your
parents, and the remainder will not be considered adequate to support both you
and Dennis. You will have to find another source of income.”
“I see.” Neville said quietly, “Do you have any suggestions?”
“I can offer you a position with the Aurors.” Kingsley
replied, “I know that it is not what you had planned before the war, but it
will pay you well.”
“I don’t understand.” Neville said, “I didn’t get the marks
on my OWLs and I haven’t even completed my NEWTS, yet.”
Kingsley shook his head and gave a dark chuckle, “Do you
think that anyone will bat an eyelash if you are given the position? More than
half the students that attended Hogwarts, all the teachers, and several
prominent residents of Hogsmeade have publically declared your bravery and
skill in defending and protecting the students while resisting the Carrows over
the past year. You are known to have been an active participant in several of
the most significant battles of the war over the last several years, and you
have the additional experience dealing with and controlling the dark creatures
that roam the edges of your family’s estate. You are at least as qualified as
both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and have the added benefit of experience
managing large numbers of people in a dangerous environment over an extended
period of time. You are also known to have killed the snake Nagini, which,
however you spin it, was no small feat. You, Mr. Longbottom, are more than
qualified for the position of Auror. In fact, you are somewhat more qualified
than several of the Aurors that are currently in office.”
Neville stared at Kingsley in surprised suspicion, “Wait,
you really mean that don’t you? You’re not just taking the piss are you?”
“I assure you, Neville, I am being perfectly candid. The
question is…is this really something that you want to do? I know what your
plans were before the war started, and this could delay them indefinitely.”
“He doesn’t have anyone else who understands.” Neville said
quietly and slowly, “He and Colin only lived with us for a bit, but they’re the
closest thing to brothers I’ve ever had. His aunt and uncle don’t understand
the magic side of things. He’s alone, without Gran and me, and I know what
that’s like. How could I not want to help him? Just tell me what I need to do.”
Kingsley handed him a stack of papers, and said, “Sign here.
And I will also arrange a part-time apprenticeship with the Auror Department’s
Herbology expert, Ms. Phillida Gairner. She’s getting a bit eccentric and hard
of hearing these days, but you won’t find anyone more knowledgeable on the
subject. Even Professor Sprout contacts her over particularly difficult cases.”
“Oh, yes, I remember her. She wrote my favorite book on
handling dark plants. Very informative, but a bit gruesome.” Neville said
enthusiastically.
“Yes, well, I’m afraid that is also a rather apt description
of the author. She’s a bit terrifying, but incredibly intelligent and has a
heart of gold if you stick around long enough to find it.”
“I’m in.” Said Neville, glancing over and then signing the parchment.
“When do I start?”
“How about today?”
“What, right now?” Neville asked astonished.
“Well, I’m in need of a discrete and talented auror to help
me escort a group of key witnesses back to Hogwarts. Take a look at this.”
Kingsley tossed a newspaper across the desk to Neville, who picked it up and
raised his eyebrows.
“Well, that’s certainly going to put him on the outs with
his political associates…if he has any left. I’ll come along.” Neville replied,
standing up. He and Kingsley shook hands, and headed out of the office.
“Although, seeing as who they are, I doubt you really do need an extra hand.”
“An extra pair of eyes is always valuable under these
circumstances.” Kingsley replied, rising and shaking his young friend’s hand.
Draco and the others were well ready to be out of the room
they had been in for most of the day. What had at first appeared rather roomy
and comfortable was feeling oppressive and small by the time Kingsley and
Neville returned. The occupants of the room rose to their feet simultaneously.
Kingsley spoke a few kind words, thanking them for their assistance to the
ministry, and then led them out of the room and down the hall, with Neville
taking up the rear.
“Something unexpected has come up,” Kingsley said, as the
group headed towards the atrium. “We might have a bit of trouble on the way, so
we’ve designated a safe meeting place known only to Neville and myself. Make
sure that you head towards one of us if there does happen to be any trouble.”
Draco felt the eyes of the group on him, but he chose to
ignore them. As they left the ministry several more Aurors flanked them, and
Draco began to wonder what exactly had happened to cause so many precautions.
Then, one of the Aurors walking next to him fell to the ground and Draco caught
a hint of a red beam of light out of the corner of his eye. The next thing he
knew he had his wand out and was dueling frantically for his life next to Harry
Potter and Ron Weasely. In a moment it was over, two black-clad figures were
running away and Neville and one of the other Aurors were pinning a masked but
sickeningly familiar figure to the ground.
Neville ripped the mask from the man’s face, revealing the
features of Gregory Goyle who was spitting and roaring with rage. Draco froze
as he heard what the other wizard was saying. “Blood Traitor! Filthy stinking
blood traitor!” The voice rose in rage, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you…you muddy
little weasel!”
“Hey now, no need to attack Weasels.” Ron Weasley’s voice
interrupted as he grabbed the large wizard’s shoulder in a surprisingly painful
grip.
Draco stared down at the other man in horror, his brain
fogged and confused. Somewhere in the distance he heard the voice of Neville,
calm and firm. “Come on now, Goyle. Lets not make aspersions against the animal
kingdom. I think you’ve said enough now.” And Goyle slumped back to the ground
stunned.
“Neville, take Draco and Harry, Ron and Hermione come with
me.” Kingsley said sharply, then turned to the other Aurors “Lock that one up,
we’ll interrogate him later.”
Draco suddenly felt someone grab his arm and felt the
familiar tightening sensation of disapparation. They apparated onto a quiet
street in what appeared to be muggle London, it smelled odd and he felt
instantly uncomfortable in his robes. He looked around awkwardly and felt
Harry’s eyes on him, piercing and disconcerting.
“Come on then you two, this way.” Neville said, leading them
into a tall, narrow brick building surrounded by other similar buildings.
As they followed, Harry said in a low voice, “Neville, how
is it that Kingsley has a safe-house known only to the two of you?”
“Sold it to him, didn’t I?” Neville replied, as though this
should be perfectly obvious. He took out his wand and whispered an unfamiliar
spell pointing it at a nondescript door, which opened to reveal a luxurious
flat much larger on the inside than it was on the outside. As they entered, he
closed the door behind them. “Kingsley was friends with my parents a long time
ago, this used to belong to them. Hello, he’s made some changes then, hasn’t
he?”
The flat was decorated starkly, in a fashion that Draco
assumed must be characteristically muggle, but was strangely different than he
had expected. There was a large box on one end, which Neville approached
curiously and examined carefully. “Harry,” He asked, “Is this what they call a
television?”
Draco shook his head in confusion, “This used to be your
flat?”
Neville looked up at him, and chuckled, “Don’t look so
shocked, Malfoy, it was a lot smaller then and much less…muggle. Really like
what Kingsley’s done with it.”
“When did you sell it to Kingsley?” Harry asked curiously.
“Last year, when he went on the run. He needed a place to
hide that was close to the ministry and where he could easily contact the
wizarding world. I was sick of the place, never really liked it.” And then a
dark cloud settled over Neville’s face and he turned away.
“Sorry mate.” Harry said, “No need to tell us about it. And,
yes, that is a television, pretty nice one at that.”
Neville smiled, with a shadow of a grimace, and Draco felt a
cold chill run through him as he remembered a conversation he had overheard the
year before between his aunt and Lord Voldemort. He wondered how Longbottom
could bear returning to this place, and the intense, remorseful self-loathing
washed over him once more.
He did not have much time to process this, however, because
Kingsley, Weasley and Granger entered right at that moment. Kingsley
immediately began walking around the apartment muttering spells under his
breath while the others watched in discomfort. “We have a serious situation
here,” Kingsley said. “Did anyone unfamiliar enter the room?”
“Kingsley, what is going on?” Harry asked.
Kingsley tossed a newspaper to the three friends and Neville
handed another one to Draco. It was a copy of Witch Weekly, and on the cover
was a picture of Hermione leaning towards Draco holding out a plate of
sandwiches. The headline was “Scandal at the Ministry Hearing: Gryfindor Gold
Digger Sets Sights on Slytherin Prince – Rita Skeeter Reports.” Draco groaned
and chucked the newspaper on the table, sinking into a chair. But Hermione,
eyes blazing, let out an outraged scream.
“Oh, that bloody, bloody, horrible woman.” She said angrily.
“Miss Granger, do you have any idea how that
scandal-mongering harridan was able to acquire this picture?” Kingsley asked in
a tired voice. “And if you wouldn’t mind informing me as to why she has such a
clear and vindictive hatred for you?”
Hermione twisted her hands a little bit, and then plopped
into a chair with an angry sigh, “She’s an animagus. She turns into a beetle.
We…well, I found out fourth year when she was writing all those horrible things
about Harry.” Here she shot Draco a venomous glance, he covered his eyes with
one hand, “I may have used what some might consider unethical methods and
managed to negotiate a truce with her.”
“Unethical methods?” Ron said laughing, “Is that what you
call imprisoning her in a jar for an extended period of time?”
Draco looked up and raised his eyebrows at Hermione, “You
did what?” He asked.
Hermione was bright red, and Neville burst out laughing, “Did
you really, Hermione?” He asked, “That’s brilliant.”
Kingsley rubbed his forehead tiredly, but there was a hint
of a smile on his face, “Since that information could land Hermione in a great
deal of trouble, an auror team will be discovering Skeeter’s animagus form
entirely by accident while searching her apartment and/or office later on this
evening following a tip from an anonymous source. However, it appears that Mr.
Malfoy and I have a little bit of damage control to do, and it must be done
rather quickly. That is, if you still intend to go through with your previous
plans?” He turned to Draco as he said the last sentence, one eyebrow raised.
“I do.” Draco said, rising to his feet, feeling oddly as
though he were going to war. He wondered if this was how aurors felt when they
prepared to enter a dangerous situation and wondered why exactly he felt the
way that he did.
“All right, you all stay here for the night. Neville knows
his way around the place.” Kingsley said, turning to the large blond man, “Do
you mind, Neville?”
Neville shook his head, “I do need to let Gran know where I
am.”
“I’ll send her an owl from the ministry.” Kingsley said
briskly, “Right then, Mr. Malfoy, take my arm.”
The room spun and twisted and Draco found himself looking
dazedly into the surprised faces of his mother and father. “Hello,” he said,
cautiously.
