Your Guardian Angel
Chapter One:
The Meeting
Author: RistvakBaen
Authors Notes: Hello! I'm RistvakBaen. This is the first Drarry fanfiction I've done in awhile and so far I'm really enjoying working on it. I'm probably going to be posting one or two chapters a week, depending on how many chapters I've finished ahead of time. I don't want to hold you guys back any longer so onto the story!


Draco wandered slowly down the muddy path that led through the middle of the large park. He had found this place two or three years ago, during the summer before his fourth year and he had been coming back since then. It was the one thing that he missed when he went back to school each year. It was drizzling out but it wasn't bad. Not bad enough to keep him from his new sanctuary, at least. Whenever he needed a break from home, or his father this park is where he came. It was especially beautiful during the spring holidays, when the flowers were in full bloom and the sounds of birds could be heard for miles. Not that he would ever admit that he enjoyed any of that, but he did.

Apparently, the light rain didn't seem to bother the small group of children who were playing in the field a few yards in front of him. Their laughter was contagious and he was soon chuckling to himself. Here he didn't need to be someone else, someone that his father had molded. He could merely be himself. Draco. Not Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy and convicted Death Eater. Or … he had been a convicted death eater until a few days ago when he had been somehow released from Azkaban.

Lucius wouldn't dare speak a word on how he had been released but Draco didn't need to hear it from him. He already knew, really it wasn't all that hard to figure it out. He had used some dark spell or another, probably the Imperious, and he was released like that. It was brilliant and stupid. He knew Lord Voldemort hadn't had any part in getting Lucius out of Azkaban. It was his father who'd gotten himself out. One time he might have admired that but now he could only shake his head and move on.

Draco had changed for the better. He was no longer the stuck up snob that everyone thought he was. He played the part when he was in public - he couldn't drop his appearances - but when he was alone or with his friends he was able to simmer down and be himself.

THUD.

"What the he-" Draco groaned, grabbing his pounding head. A young girl was standing in front of him, she couldn't be any older then nine, clutching a large ball in her small hands. She was staring at him with large, frightened, almond-shaped blue eyes and for a moment Draco couldn't turn his eyes away even though they were somewhat unfocused because of the hard hit his poor head had taken. "I'm sorry, sir." The child apologized and Draco noticed that her hands were trembling. "I didn't mean to hit you, sir." Draco let go of his head and frowned. Her hair was everywhere and it gave out the impression that she had been out here for awhile.

"Don't worry about it. It was just an accident…unless you meant to hit me. Then we would have a little problem, wouldn't we?" He asked, bending down so that they were at eyelevel.

The child giggled, relaxing. "No, sir, no! Of course not, sir!"

Draco watched her for a long moment before he asked her what her name was, in a quieter tone. "Rayn, sir! Rayn Caraway!" She looked positively delighted when he had asked her such a personal question and he couldn't help but grin at her, which made her beam.

Ironic. He had met a girl named Rayn in the rain. Ah, yes. Amusing.

"Rayn. What a pretty name. I'm Draco." Rayn giggled again, and then she dropped the ball from her hands and blew a strand of that messy, wet flaming red hair out of her face. Hearing her name being called, Rayn looked over her shoulder and Draco watched as remembrance dawned on her petite face. "I'm coming!" she called before turning back to him. "Do you want to play?"

"Not today." Rayn frowned, a look that Draco decided did not suite her at all and then she nodded. "Will you play with us soon?" He nodded and suddenly, small arms were around him. He moved to hug her back but Rayn had already slipped away from his stomach. She had turned to kick the ball back at her friends and then scampered off after it. Rayn looked over her shoulder and giggled. "Goodbye sir Draco!"

He didn't know what to think of this as he slowly headed back down the path that he had come from. Even in such a short amount of time, Rayn had woven her way into his heart. There was something about her laugh and her messy hair that had reeled him in. He wondered if she had that effect on a lot of people and then shook the thought out of his head.

"Father would kill me if he heard about this." He said to the empty path, stuffing his pale hands into the pockets of his trousers and shaking his head. Draco closed his eyes and sped up his walk, the sounds of the children laughing and playing drowning out in the background until they were no more.


Lucius strode into the dining room, his head held remarkably high for someone who had just been released from Azkaban. Draco lifted his head when he father walked into the room. He had managed to get cleaned up and dry before dinner when he had gotten home from his walk and he looked more presentable, at least that's what Narcissa had told him when he had come to join her for dinner.

"…Good evening, Father." Draco and Lucius had started to fall out after Lucius had been captured in the Department of Mysteries during his fifth year but not enough to be uncivil to one another. Narcissa didn't like this at all because no good could come to her son if he did not trust in his father and she had made that known to Draco on more then one occasion since Lucius had been back.

"Evening." Lucius bent his head and Narcissa kissed his cheek in greeting, and then he sat down at the front of the table. "Draco. I have good news for you." He said, lifting his dark gaze to meet Draco's.

Good news from Father…can't be good news at all. He thought, concealing the look of suspicion that would have woven his way onto his face had he not had years of training to mask his emotions. "What is it, Father?" Something to do with the Dark Lord, no doubt.

"I have spoken to the Dark Lord." Ten points to Slytherin. He thought with a mental laugh. He hated how his father could bring up the Dark Lord so calmly, as if it didn't affect him at all. "He believes that you are ready for your first mission, my son." Lucius informed, looking Draco straight in the eye as if challenging him to disagree with this. He didn't say anything and his father looked please. "This Thursday you will meet with him, privately and he will tell you what you are expected to do. I expect you to be ready for whatever he asks of you, Draco." Lucius said sternly before he waved Draco off with a brush of his hand.

Draco didn't need the permission to leave, he would have left anyway. His appetite was gone and uneasiness took its place. He murmured a quick good evening to his parents before he left the room, not looking back.


Being a Malfoy had taught Draco quite a lot of things in life. Most of them weren't all that good but he had survived on it for the better half of his life. He could never trust one person for too long, they would use that trust against him. He could never have just one lover; he had to have an entire handful. And under no circumstance was he ever, ever allowed to fall in love. Love would shatter you. It would destroy you from the inside out and Lucius had made sure that Draco knew this before he could even start walking.

As he got older, putting on the mask for his father only proved to get harder. Draco had perfected the Malfoy mask over the years but he had gotten sick of lying and hiding behind it. The task had only gotten harder after he had taken the Dark Mark.

He was not the sort of person that people around him had pictured him to be. He was snobby and arrogant and self-confident and defiantly rude but that was only one half of the picture. He cared for a lot of things, even if he didn't show it. It was his father and the people he claimed to be his friends who had shaped him out that way.

Yes, he was edgy and he defiantly had no tolerance for half-bloods. Muggles he didn't mind so much now that he had grown up a bit. It wasn't their fault that they had been born without magic. But Draco had seen some of the things that muggles could do without magic and it was astounding. He certainly couldn't have lived without it. How they did it was beyond him. He knew half-bloods hadn't had any control over what they were and he didn't blame the person, he blamed the parental units but he wouldn't let anyone know that.

Draco had changed a lot and it had mostly gone unnoticed.

Draco slowly lifted the sleeve on his left arm and sighed. The black dark mark stood out in horrible contrast to his beautifully pale skin. It was a ugly and horrendous thing that he didn't think he would ever get over. His father had made getting the mark seem like the greatest thing in the universe but it was really quite the opposite.

Really! Didn't the Dark Lord have any style? A skull with a snake coming out of his mouth, how horribly overused. He looked up then, shifting up to a sitting position on his bed. He concealed the mark and just in time. "Draco, darling? Are you awake?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Won't you come join me for tea?" Draco loved his mother and he would do everything and anything for her but she did have the worst timing. "I'd love too." he resigned, glancing down at his arm one last time before he slipped out of his bedroom to join Narcissa.


Harry sighed as he listened to the different conversations going through the dining room of Grimmauld Place. Fred and George were conversing in hushed tones with Tonks, who had come just a few hours before. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were talking quite loudly about what they wanted to do for the rest of the summer though they all knew that their time was limited and that they were expected to stay in the house or the back yard.

Voldemort's threat had increased ten fold during June, when they first got let out of school for the summer and had continued to increase as the days went by, and then there was the almost torrential rain. The sun was almost inexistent. Ah, the joys of summer. They had only been out for a month and the normal fun of summer they had when together were at the breaking point. It was just…boring. The other adults, excluding Tonks were also talking in whispers, something they had all grown accustomed too. Harry hadn't spoken throughout dinner, he merely listened. He had had nothing to say and thus, kept to himself.

Molly came bustling in from the kitchen, holding dessert in her hands. Homemade ice cream. "Brilliant!" Fred (or George, he wondered how he had went six years and still didn't know one from the other) exclaimed, moving their dirty plate out of the way. Molly made the best ice cream, even if she only made it on special occasions.

"What's the occasion mum?" George ( or was it Fred?) asked, looking up at the plump, smiling woman who was scooping ice cream into bowls. Harry could have laughed at the greedy looks on his friends face and he was sure one was on his own as well.

"I just thought it would be a nice dessert." She knew how much her children and their friends loved her ice cream and it would be a nice change of pace. George and Fred grinned, scooping a spoonful of ice cream from their bowls that Molly had given to them and eating it happily.

A chorus of thank you's filled the dining room once everyone had grabbed a bowl and began to eat. Being around a family like the Weasley's had always eased Harry's ever growing fear and there were times like this where he was just able to forget all of his fears and worries. It was nice, welcomed and embraced when those rare times came around.

"Mum makes the best ice cream," Ginny leaned over to whisper to him, looking remarkably like the twins.

"Yeah, she does!" Ron agreed, already taking quick bites of his. "I wonder what Mum is hiding from us. The last time she made it was ages ago."

"The night before my first day at Hogwarts, I think." Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders. "It's so good, Harry! Try some." She coaxed.

Harry took a bite of his ice cream. They were right; Mrs. Weasley did make good ice cream. He didn't have much experience with homemade sweets. He was rarely allowed to eat any of it at the Dursley's and he wasn't sure if the food that the House Elves made counted. "It's good."

"Isn't it?!" She smiled, patting his arm and returning to her bowl of vanilla ice cream.

He sighed, turning his gaze out the window at the pouring rain. Lightning was dancing across the skies, a shocking bluish yellow color. It was amazing to witness, terrifying too. Out there, in the dark, Lord Voldemort was plotting and scheming and twining more fear into the hearts of his friends and family. Harry shivered and it didn't go unnoticed by a pair of watchful eyes across from him. He closed his eyes, finally turning away from the display and returned to his bowl of ice cream as the talking was reincarnated around him.


End of Chapter One...