Chapter 1

Convincing Mr. Malfoy

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"Mister Malfoy, we believe someone with your . . . expertise in the subject would be vital during this investigation."

Draco Malfoy sneered in contempt at the Minister of Magic. Grabbing hold of the chair he should have been sitting in, he placed the bulk of his weight against it and dug his nails into the wood. "And by expertise, you mean the inside knowledge in all things werewolf."

"To put it simply, yes. You've been a werewolf for over ten years, and we have good reason to believe it's a werewolf causing trouble over in New York." The Minister answered. His voice was calm, and as were his eyes as they let the cold gaze of the livid werewolf before him.

"If it's in New York, why are we getting involved. That's all the way across the pond." Draco pointed out with annoyance. Why was he even being bothered with this? The Ministry had only locked him in Azkaban for ten years. Only let him out for the past three. Yet he was still their lapdog.

"The werewolf causing trouble doesn't show up with any records from their holding cells. They've requested aid from the greatest witch of the generation."

"Alright, so you're sending Granger in. That still leaves me. Why am I going? And don't give me the expertise pitch again."

"Think about it. You and Granger were on a nearly identical intelligence level during your school years. You were second only to her, and even then your scores were very close. Even a subject or two you surpassed her in."

"Let me guess, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"That's classified information."

"I'll take that as a yes." Draco said with a vain smirk. He knew what he was good at, and he refused to let anyone—especially not Hermione Granger—best him there. "Alright, so say I help you guys out. What's in it for me?"

"How does freedom sound?" The Minister asked, his expression carefully guarded as Draco turned to him with interest.

"I'm listening."

"If you help with the situation in New York, the you and your family will be granted complete freedom from the monthly lock downs, so long as you maintain our trust and stay away from the non-werewolves." The minister offered. He motioned towards the window towards his right, where the containment building for werewolves on the full moon could be seen. Of course, the ministry was underground, but where it was located would have been across from the building, if it were above ground.

Draco mulled over these thoughts for a few moments, running his tongue over his teeth as he thought. It certainly was a tempting offer but, "I want a job at the ministry."

"Something can be arranged."

"And Malfoy Manor back. Along with the vaults."

"Mister Malfoy, your family home and vaults was taken as penance to help rebuild after the war—"

"It's sitting in Wiltshire gathering dust, and you know it. Nobody is going to buy it, not with all the furniture jacking the price up. You can't remove any of it without the consent of a Malfoy—and I sure as hell won't give that consent. As for the vaults? The goblins won't dare let you take a single coin without the keys, all safe in the Manor."

"Can you Malfoys never do just a good deed?"

"No good deed goes unpunished." Draco growled bitterly as he fixed a hard gaze on the Minister. "I want my inheritance, my birthright. I will do whatever you ask of me over in New York, but that's my price." He stated firmly. He was a stubborn man, and this was something he would not back down from.

The minister gave a heavy sigh as he leaned back against his chair before looking up at the werewolf before him. "Alright. Upon your return from New York, Malfoy Manor and all its assets will be returned to your family."

"Then I believe we have a deal." Draco smirked. Pulling his wand from his robes, he gave a lazy flick of his wrist and conjured a scroll in front of the minister.

"What's this?" The minister asked cautiously.

"Contract." Draco answered. Magically binding without the drastic punishment of an Unbreakable Vow. "Everything you've promised, and everything I've promised, as well as a clause to assure that—should I die while on this mission of yours—Everything is still returned to my family."

The Minister sighed wearily as he looked over the document, the seconds slowly ticking by until he finally signed it. "You leave in two days."

"There's still one thing you haven't told me, Minister." Draco pointed out.

"And what's that?"

"Where are you sending Granger and I? Not New York, I need something more specific."

"You will by staying in a school known as The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning."