It was after all only a matter of time. Draco wasn't really surprised that his life had led to this. Ever since the day he had met Potter and had been rejected by him, this was what life had in store for him. A one way ticket to Azkaban, to a dementor for one last kiss.
Really it didn't matter that he had remained neutral during the Second War. No, what had mattered was that he refused to help either side. That he was a Death Eater's son. That he was Lucius Malfoy's son. That he was well known to be the rival of the Boy-Who-Caused-Too-Bloody-Many-Problems.
Here he was one of the richest men in the Wizarding World and he was being locked up in his own house for something that he had never done. He was surrounded by aurors who wanted him dead or alive, but mostly dead, let's face it they were all going for dead.
Currently the head of the Malfoy family was standing in one of the numerous hallways of the Malfoy manor looking into an enchanted mirror. It showed him the front gate of his property. Even though he was most likely not going to survive the night Draco couldn't help but smirk and the incompetence of the Ministry. They couldn't even get past a few simple dark wards. Here he had been thinking that they were supposed to be competent in matters like this. However, Draco was willing to admit that he was wrong on the matter. After all the situation did call for a good laugh at the incompetence of others.
Fiddling with the watch that was currently in his pocket he turned away from the pathetic sight and started down the hall. While they were pretty stupid, it really was only a matter of time before someone with a small ounce of intelligence showed up and disabled the numerous wards placed around his manor. Draco had never been one to give up easily, but there was no way he was going to be cornered into leaving his property. He would rather die fighting for it. Draco would never give up the Malfoy heritage without taking some of them with him.
First though before he got set up for the long battle to come, he had to do something. He had to make sure that the door was locked. The door that no matter how hard he tried or how many unlocking spells he knew, Draco could never get in. This door led to his father's study. A room that Draco had been in countless times before, well before his Father had died for some foolish cause. He had never been in the room without his Father, but he had figured when his Father had been buried on Malfoy soil that it would open for him. The door had remained locked. Draco thought that his Father was just trying to have a last laugh, since that room had everything of importance to the Malfoy's in it. Draco had to work around and guess at the things he needed to keep the family business running. Fortunately for him he was an intelligent man that could make an educated guess on things of that matter. It also helped that he had been learning such things since he was five. Now he was going to die at the ripe old age of 25.
Coming to a halt at the familiar wooden door, Draco sneered at it. Hating the way it mocked him. Draco might have stayed that way a bit longer if the wards hadn't started acting up, signaling that the Ministry's law enforcers were finally starting to chip away at the Malfoy's defenses. Not knowing how much time he had, Draco hurriedly reached out to grab the door knob, intending to just give it a quick twist to make sure that it was still locked.
Click, the door moved inward. Draco stared at the now slightly open door in surprise. The door had opened; it had finally opened after all this time. Even with the situation at hand or maybe because of it, Draco couldn't help but think that his Father was really having the last laugh at him.
Still a bit cautious Draco slowly opened the door and stepped into the darkened interior. The moment that the door had closed behind him several candles lit up automatically casting the room into a shadowy light as the room held no windows.
The room was just as he had remembered it. With a huge mahogany desk taking up most of the room that despite all this time was still cluttered with papers, with quills on one corner and the inks in another. A picture of Draco himself and another of his Mother. The cane that his Father had been well known for was lying on top of the table no longer needed. The leather chair was pushed back slightly giving the impression that Lucius might have been in a rush to leave. The walls were still lined with bookcases that held more than just books. The smell of floo powder was still in the air even though a fireplace was not in sight. Having seen his Father make more than one floo call in here, Draco knew that he only had to push a certain button for the fireplace to appear.
After seeing nothing out of the ordinary on the first glance, Draco gave it another once over. Being cautious was what had kept him alive this long and it might just keep him alive a bit longer. Who knew what sort of things Lucius had set to do to intruders, including his very own son. The spells were probably even set for Draco or his Mother, whichever one Lucius probably found the most amusing at the moment he set them.
During his second glance he saw the letter it was neatly folded and leaning against the cane. Several layers of dust had settled over it, but the blond could still make out his name in his Father's eloquent penmanship. Even as Draco made his way to pick up the letter he wondered if it was set to explode the moment he touched it. His hesitation was understandable, but not appropriate as another warning shook through his body. There really wasn't much time left.
Draco's hand reached out and grasped the old parchment in his hand. He ignored the slight nervousness in his stomach and ripped the seal and opened the letter.
Draco,
I'm going to assume you don't have much time to read this letter, so I thought I should go ahead and make sure this is nice and long. Right now you are probably wondering how in the world I know that you are close to death. I happened to have set the door so that it would only open when you or your Mother were in such a predicament. If she had been the one to open the door something else entirely would have happened and finding a letter wasn't among them.
Now there is one thing that I can't stand is not being able to control how things are going to play out. I also hate the fact that I have to admit it, but that's another matter entirely. I'm going to assume that you have no heirs. You most likely wouldn't have wanted to marry that Parkinson girl, couldn't really blame you considering she takes after her mother. Plus you are young why should you have to settle down, especially when neither of your parents are around to pressure you into marrying a pureblood.
This topic leads me to my point. As you are in a very tight situation, I shall give you three options on what you can do at this point.
The first is that you can stand and defend the Malfoy's ancestral home. You'll most likely die in doing so. No matter how good a wizard you are without Potter's luck at defying the impossible you can't stand up to as many of those Ministry fools that they'll send after you. Now you'll most likely take down a good chunk of them before they get you, at least if you are the Malfoy that I expect you to be.
The second option is that you can take the underground passage that leads into the Southern Woods. Which if you decide to take this then you better have every intention of getting revenge on those that dared to set foot upon my land.
The third option lies in my top drawer, a potion. Now is not the time to go into all the details of what it can do. A shortened version is that you might live a lot longer than to just seek revenge. This option may even give you a chance to change a couple of things. There is another letter along with the potion. Don't open it; just store it in your pocket to read later. Drink the potion and you should feel the effects immediately. No it's not poison and apparently you should know it the moment you smell it that it's not a poison. That is if your Godfather is not just lying about your skills to protect you…again.
Well those are your choices. I expect you to make the right one. Believe me Draco if you don't I will know.
Lucius
What a loving letter, Draco thought a bit sarcastically. He placed the letter in one of his pockets. His Father was right; there really wasn't any time to think about what to do. The wards were now down. The Malfoy Manor was once more being invaded. Draco had to make a decision and it had to be now.