Summary: We all know what happened in the 5th book: Sirius is related to Narcissa Malfoy. So what happens to Draco when his parents are murdered? And why is Dumbledore telling lies? Slight HP/DM.

Disclaimer: Not owned by me, I have manipulated the characters to suit my own means, no money, please don't sue.

Chapter 1: Lingering Hopes

He sat motionlessly, reveling in the stony silence of solitude, which was indefinite, except for the crackling roar escaping the fire burning within the stone fireplace like an uncontrolled rage. Outside, the wind howled its grief, wailing incessantly as it had been all morning, challenging the almost black sky, so gray and miserable it was. Head resting softly against the wall, back slumped into a slouch, legs drawn up, the boy sat, doing nothing, saying nothing, mind completely blank.

A small, unnoticeable wooden door located in the very corner of this cold room, opposing a single, gloomy window, slid slowly open, emitting one low creak. The boy gradually raised his head and opened his eyes, forcing himself to focus on the man entering. Strong but lean, with billowing silver hair, and a beard to match, the usual twinkle was gone from his startling blue eyes: Albus Dumbledore.

The boy sighed heavily and closing his eyes again, propped his head back against the wall, firelight turning the white blonde hair to a glinting, polished silver.

Noting the obvious pain in the silver eyes, Dumbledore spoke softly, trying to break the news lightly. "I'm sorry, Draco." He perched on the end of the massive bed, uncomfortable and not in his element. He didn't know the boy well and could not identify with his pain. Who did Draco have to confide in anyway? No one, as far as he knew. No one.

"Is there nothing to be done?" Draco asked, voice barley above a whisper, cracking slightly.

Dumbledore bowed his head and Draco let out an anguished sob. The Headmaster sat quietly, letting Draco fight his torment. "Tears are good for the soul, Mr. Malfoy," he encouraged, although he knew Draco had only cried once in his life, at the age of three, and due to certain circumstances, probably never would again. After a few moments, Draco seemed to have re-mastered himself, hauling in the intense emotions. The usually expressionless face was contorted by the effort.

"Why?" he asked finally, a simple question that didn't have an answer at that moment. "Why did this happen?"

"Why is anyone killed, Mr. Malfoy? As old as I am, that one question still leaves me stumped." Dumbledore knew this wasn't what Draco had wanted and saw disappointment flash in his eyes before it was hidden. No, it wasn't the right answer, but it was the only one he had.

There was a sharp, almost annoyed knock at the door and it swung open again, admitting the Potions Master, Professor Snape. He glanced at Draco tenderly, or as tenderly as a Snape can, and then focused his attention on Dumbledore. Before Snape could begin, Dumbledore spoke. "Were you there, Severus?" he questioned quietly. Seeming uncomfortable, Snape looked again at Draco with worry plain on his face. Draco, however, hadn't even acknowledged his Head of House's entrance.

Still looking at Draco, he slowly replied, "Yes, Albus. I was there." Again, in a whisper, "I was there." Draco's head snapped up and he gave his favorite professor a pained look, his eyes pleading for something, but Snape was unsure as to what.

"And?" Dumbledore asked.

"In- in front of Draco, sir?" Snape asked harshly. "I don't think he…"

Dumbledore cut him off. "I believe it is Mr. Malfoy's right to hear what you have to say. You don't agree, Severus?"

"I do, it's just…so soon?"

Tired of being discussed like he wasn't even in the room, Draco cleared his throat importantly. "I want to know," he announced firmly, some of the old mutiny back in his eyes. Dumbledore nodded in agreement. Snape, looking annoyed as well as resigned, took a deep breath.

"You see," he began falteringly, only to be interrupted by the door, which swung open again, this time wildly, and in charged Professor McGonagall and Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Couldn't this have waited?" Dumbledore asked Minerva, a glint in his eye the only sign of his annoyance. He ignored Fudge completely.

"I thought it could, but he insisted," she snapped, glaring her unexpressed hatred at the portly man. He ignored her calmly, acting as if he was above being angry.

"I am the Minister of Magic, and I wait for no one," he returned simply, stressing his "I's" like McGonagall, furthering her irritation.

"Ah, I see. Well, then, I suggest you have a seat." Dumbledore motioned to the bed. "Severus was just about to inform young Draco and myself of the, er, mornings activities." He stated rather delicately. Fudge blinked, noticing Draco for the first time, and McGonagall's severe look softened at his name, looking almost sad. The room went quiet and Dumbledore nodded at Snape. "You may begin."

"I'll brief it up a bit, no need for intense details at the moment." Clearing his throat, he continued. "It, ah, seems the Dark Lord has been getting more and more paranoid, not really knowing who's loyal and who's not, as you already know, Albus. Lucius, unwittingly, was gaining too much power and influence for Voldemort's-" Here Fudge flinched as though he'd been slapped. "-comfort. He just isn't very trusting as of late, especially with that close shave two weeks ago, and he was beginning to think Lucius was not being loyal to him, planning on taking over… As far as I know, his suspicions got the better of him and he decided to, er…tie up loose ends.

"He summoned us, the Death Eaters. He was making an example of Malfoy, he said. Said this was what awaited traitors of the Dark Lord. He then proceeded to…to torture the Malfoys to death." Draco shuddered uncontrollably. "I'm not sure he meant to kill them, per say. Only old Voldie knows what he actually intends…but what's done is done." Sighing heavily, Snape stopped, letting the room drop into silence.

Draco had his head in his hands, hunched against the wall as though he'd just been thoroughly thrashed. McGonagall looked afraid and remorseful. Dumbledore sat thinking, forehead furrowed in concentration, while Fudge seemed merely baffled. He stumbled over to the bed and sat down shakily.

"It's…it's true?" he whispered incredulously. "All of it? And what the Potter boy said in June…it wasn't madness? It's true." He mumbled incoherently to himself for a bit, then looked at Dumbledore, pleading him to take the nightmarish meaning of Snape's words away, only Dumbledore had no reassurance.

"Yes, it is true," he concurred, looking intently at Draco, gauging his reaction. "I think we should let Draco alone for a bit. Severus, find a house elf- any house elf- and post him outside Draco's door, just in case he needs anything. Minerva, please contact the gang, tell them a meeting here in an hour. Wait for them in the entry hall; then show them to the Malfoy study. Fudge. Follow me." With that, he turned, green robes swishing, and walked out the door.

Fudge got slowly up and followed. Snape rushed out after him, muttering darkly. Minerva paused for a minute in the door, though, also assessing Draco's state of mind. He was still huddled near the corner, withdrawn and seemingly oblivious of the world around him. She resisted the urge to go to him, to help him into his bed, to tell him everything would be all right. But that was a lie. To him, nothing was 'all right' anymore. After one last glance, she left, shutting the door softly behind her, leaving Draco alone with his dangerous thoughts.

*~*

Hola! This is a new little ficcy of mine, actually an old fic, the second I ever started writing, that I have just been sitting on for the longest time. Kind of short, but more to come. (It was a lot longer when I'd handwritten it in a notebook, I swear! I thought it had fic potential!)

Also, am trying to get my Disposable fic started up again, looking for help!

Thanks,


Crys