Chapter 1: The Hare
"Draco dear, off to bed now." Narcissa didn't meet his eyes; she rose the cup of tea to her lips and stared at the fire in the fireplace.
Draco looked up from his seat in one of the large sofas. "What for?" he demanded. He hated how his parents were babying him now that the Dark Lord was back to full power.
He was seventeen for Merlin's sake!
"Do as I say, child," said Narcissa sternly, still staring at the fire. "We might have…guests later."
Guests. Draco knew that that meant. Death eaters would be arriving in the Dark Lord's name, come to taunt and tease Lucius as they did often now. Lucius, who had screwed
up, who was now nothing more than a playtoy for the other followers.
Grudgingly, Draco stood. He stared for a long moment at his mother, who had never before seemed so pale and aged. His father remained stonily in the other armchair, his
hands resting lamely on the arms of the chair. Fear and distress clouded his father's face.
For a moment, the blonde-haired wizard considered bidding a good night to his parents, but he thought better of it. Of course they wouldn't have a good night, not when the
Dark Lord and his followers hovered so dangerously above them.
Draco's room was spacious and large. His four-poster, dark wood bed was king-size and laden with Slytherin-green sheets and blankets. Nearly everything in Draco's room was
some variation of dark green, except for his white-blonde hair that contrasted the walls so perfectly. Draco didn't bother to undress; he slid open the floor-length window that was
beside his nightstand and stepped out into the cool night air, taking in the slight breeze and fresh smell.
It had rained earlier today and the air caught a deliciously murky, outdoorsy aroma that Draco inhaled like a drug.
Leaning out the window, the boy jumped. He had no fear as he landed with a small thump on the first floor roof. He slid down the roof carefully, quietly, and soon he was face-
to-face with a large tree trunk laden with thick, supportive branches. Climbing down the moist trunk expertly, Draco reminisced about Hogwarts, where he'd been known to be up in
trees often.
Finally the white-blonde boy reached the floor. It was then that the adrenaline leaked in and the concept of freedom caught his mind.
He ran.
He ran further and further down the gardens that snaked around the manor until he reached the courtyard. There was a particular bench in the courtyard that rested beside a
large, magnificent fountain. This portion was encircled by hedges and a short, stubbly tree so that it could not be seen from the windows of the manor.
This is where Draco sat now, on the bench, still on the Malfoy property in the courtyard, but far from the manor and the restless concern of his parents.
As he did every night, he faced the fountain and waited. It was a shame that the fountain no longer spurted water—when he was a boy, when the Dark Lord was only a
memory in the minds of wizards and witches, his parents used to race him to this fountain. With their wands they allowed sparkling water to shoot from the spouts. The fountain was
a picture of a young boy and a girl. The girl sat prim and pretty on the floor clutching a picnic basket while the boy stood laughing.
And then it happened, as it did every night. Before Draco's eyes, a silvery hare Patronus slipped out from one of the water spouts. Smoothly, elegantly, but still playful and light,
the animal glided over to Draco and played around him. The hare jumped and bounded around the boy for but a few minutes as it did every night. And then it came to rest on Draco's
lap, where Draco stared ahead at the blinking stars and stroked the animal.
He didn't know whose Patronus it was, or why it was here. All he knew was that it was his only light in such dark, lonesome times.
And like every night before, Draco fell asleep with the comfort of the hare beside him.