A.N: I own nothing.
Draco Malfoy spent a large portion of his time thinking. In class, at meals, on the train, at home, he thought about his family, a father in Azkaban and a mother who'd run off to France or Germany or the states, as far away as she could get. He thought about his falling grades, he wondered if Pansy had any real interest in him or if she just slept with him for his money and statues, he thought about Potter's golden trio and why they always seemed so damned happy. All of these thoughts eventually boiled down to the same thing: what the hell was he going to do with his future?
School had let out over a week ago. He had spent all but two of the days alone wondering Malfoy manor with only the silent army of house elves. Narcissa had abandon her family home, preferring to traipse around out of the country with other men and strangers while her husband tried to fight his imprisonment.
"Young Master Malfoy, breakfast is ready," an old house elf informed, bowing so low his long pointed nose nearly scraped the polished wooden floors of the manor's din.
Draco was lounging across a silk, claw footed, sofa his feet resting atop one armrest as the other supported his head. Light was streaming in through the high skylights highlighting the warm, pail, summer colors of the room. The young man raised to a sitting position and waved the elf away.
It was with an air of utter boredom that he ambled away from his place of leisure. It took several moments to navigate through the polished marble hallways of his home to arrive in the large family dining room.
He'd been up for nearly an hour, all of which he had spent lazily. The long mahogany table, able to seat twenty-six comfortably, had only one place set on the left side near the end. It seemed wrong, even when he was alone, to sit at ether head of the table. Two glasses, one of orange juice the other milk, were placed above the plate filled with two eggs, sunny side up, six peaces of bacon next to them. A single slice of toast, already lightly buttered, on a separate plate next to a small bowl of yogurt. That mornings Daily Prophet lay next to his morning meal, folded neatly for him.
Taking his seat Draco dismissed the small party of elves that stood bowing to him as he entered. A sip of milk and a bite of toast later he was flicking open the paper to the front page. That mornings headlines were enough to have him placing his toast back on its plate. Azkaban break out: four escape. He skimmed the article until he found the only thing in it that held any interest to him, near the bottom of the front page was a list of those who had escaped: Yaxley, Fenrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, and Alecto Carrow. He couldn't say he was surprised. His father, at least, had been awaiting rescue for over a month and a half.
Putting the paper down he tried to decipher how he felt about this new occurrence. His father was out of prison, though not free, now in hiding somewhere by the Dark Lord's side, he wouldn't be returning home. His mother, most likely, wouldn't have heard the news wherever she was and wouldn't be in any rush to get back to the Manor. That would leave him alone to clean up after Lucius before the Aurors broke down the door demanding to search the estate.
"Dixey," he called to the empty room.
The old house elf who had informed him of his meal being ready only minutes ago, appeared out of thin air next to his chair a little more then arms length away. "Yes, Young Master?" the elf bowed.
"We may be having Ministry company later, see to it all of Father's unsavory possessions are hidden," the young blond commanded. He would do a thorough check later to ensure the stupid creatures hadn't missed anything. He estimated the Aurors would be barging in just before lunch...
Draco's educated guess proved to be correct. It was approximately an hour and half before lunch would normally be served when a loud thud echoed from the manor's entryway. Draco had been lounging around in the sunroom out back when he heard it. He took his time getting to the door, knowing one of the elves would answer the call.
The whole Ministry was in even more of an up roar than usual these days, but the Auror department was perhaps the most tense section of the organization. The escape had taken place at, close to, 2 o'clock that morning as far as they could determine. The Dementors had left the place not long after Voldemort's return, leaving the Auroras to staff the prison. Three wizards on duty last night had been killed in the escape.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror second class, was caught up in the fast planing and near panic of his department. He was currently going over some of the records of the prisoners, not that he didn't know most of it already.
"Shacklebolt!" The head of the department called him out, stalking over to his desk. "Round up a team. I need you to head up the search of Lucius Malfoy's house," he ordered shoving a warrant into his hands.
The overly fit man's heavy voice and red face demanded that he not be questioned. Nodding sharply, Kingsley got to his feet, his red Auror robes fluttering around him. Normally Kingsley would have pointed out that a search was probably a waste of time, but at the moment a long shot like that was all they had. He assembled a team of fifteen to accompany him including, Luther whales, Rita Farnsworth, and Paul Young, whom he had worked with throughout his whole career and trusted whole heartedly.
The party of Auror apparted to just outside the Malfoy Manor wards. Over the years nearly every Auror in the department had visited the manor for some, work related, reason. As a pack of professionals they marched through the apparation wards and up to the front door some ways away. The door was large made of thick, dark, wood, which, Kingsley was sure, was magically reinforced.
Luther was the one who stepped forward and pounded on the door, using every ounce of his, considerable, strength. Just as he was about to repeat the process the oversized passage cracked open. A short, particularly, wrinkly house elf stood before them.
"Yes, Sirs?" the creature questioned.
"We're from the Ministry. May he speak with the current head of house?" Kingsley inquired, knowing full well that demanding the elf let them in wouldn't get them anywhere without his master's permission, warrant or not.
"Blinksy, is not to disturb the young master," the creature stammered.
Before they could argue farther the elf spun quickly on its heels and went into a low bow before evaporating. A pail hand gripped the edge of the door wrenching it open wider. A young boy stood behind it, Draco Malfoy, age sixteen, only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Kingsley assumed having read the family's file, though he had never actually met the boy.
"Can I help you?" The boy asked, his voice was held at a normal volume and he seemed altogether relaxed. He was dressed simply in gray slacks and white button down shirt, with the top button undone.
"Are ether of your parents home?" Kingsley wandered, knowing Lucius wouldn't be here.
"They're out, I'm afraid," Draco smiled at the flock of hostile Aurors.
"We have a warrant granting us permission to search this residence," their leader informed the youth.
"Well, by all means do come in." Draco stepped aside letting the small battalion file in.
As he barked orders to the other Aurors Kingsley noticed that the young Malfoy stood back, close to the wall as if trying to stay out of their way. Even with his hands in his pockets the boy managed to have immaculate posture and seemed to retain the air of nobility that the Auror had noticed he carried. Finally, after sending the others of to scour the home, Kingsley walked over to the boy.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you a few questions," he tried to make his voice softer than its usual low rumble, in an attempt to show the boy sympathy.
Draco smiled again, in that disconcertingly charming way that made the hairs on the back of the Auror's neck stand on end. "Of course. Perhaps we should adjourn to the din first?" It was a statement posing as a question and Kingsley was tempted to begin the interrogation right there but he didn't want the boy any edgier then had to be. At least not yet. Nodding shortly, he allowed the youth to lead him down a wide hallway to a large open room, where Draco had lounged that morning.
Gesturing to a large armchair Draco moved to sit himself on the same claw footed sofa he had occupied before breakfast. Kingsley took the offered seat, watching the boy's every movement.
"So, what can I do for you?" the blond queried, watching the Auror just as closely.
"Just some simple questions to start with. Your name, first?" The Auror asked.
Draco raised a platinum eyebrow and smiled as if he thought that was a rather moronic question. He answered anyway, voice as polite as when he had greeted them, "Draco Malfoy."
Kingsley stopped himself from nodding as his thoughts were confirmed. "And where are your parents, Draco?"
If the use of his first name bothered the boy, as Kingsley suspected it did, he didn't show it. "My mother is away in France at the moment, visiting friends and of course I haven't a clue as to my father's whereabouts," he answered coolly.
"Of course," Kingsley agreed, though his gut protested that the boy was lying, he couldn't see any outward signs to support his feeling. He studied the boy closely, noting the almost unnatural stillness about him, every movement seemed measured and planed out. The boy's eyes were like two steel traps clamped shut on any emotion that might have betrayed him, making him appear cold. "When was the last time you had contact your father?" The Auror persisted though he was beginning to see why no one bothered to question the boy in the past.
"He had his lawyer deliver a letter to me just after his arrest," Draco told him honestly.
"And the topic of the letter?" Kingsley tried.
The boy's smile turned patronizing for a brief moment before he answered. "Assurances of his innocence."
Kingsley was almost sure he picked p a note of sarcasm in the boys tone, but he couldn't blame him. The kid wasn't stupid, there was no way he didn't know what his father was. "When will your mother be back from, France you said?"
"Yes. In a few days." Draco kept his answers short.
The Auror studied the young man. He wasn't any older than Harry, who was probably on his way to the Order's head quarters, he'd be furious when he heard new of the break out, but Draco didn't seem to think this was out of the norm. Wanting to get some reaction out of the kid Kingsley said, "Are you aware that three Aurors were killed during the escape?"
Draco blinked once before responding, "I terribly sorry, to both you and there families." His voice dripped with just enough sympathy to make him sound genuine, though his features didn't change to convey the message.
The kid was perfectly sculpted block of ice. Nothing about him was out of place, not a strand of hair or stray thought as far as Kingsley could tell. He sat across from the Auror, not even of age yet, being disarmingly polite and purposefully unhelpful and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.
"Draco," Kingsley leaned forward trying to really get the boys attention. "You understand there is war going on right now, don't you?" some emotion passed over the boy's face, it looked for a brief moment like guilt or indecision, then the young Malfoy was back in control, all of his emotions closed tight behind bright silver eyes and a fake smile.
"Yes, Sir. I understand the gravity of what is happening," He said it coolly, his voice staying level but strong.
Nodding Kingsley leaned back intrigued by rise he had gotten, no matter how small. After a few more simple questions Kingsley rose from his seat, Draco seeing this fallowed suit.
"I think thats all of the questions I have at the moment. If anything comes to mind I may drop back in and of course I still need to speak with you mother," Kingsley smiled. "Now if you'll excuse me I must go check on my team." They shook hands briefly before the Auror second class departed to find Rita, who he had put in charge of questioning the house elves.
Draco had missed both lunch and dinner by the time the Aurors were done. They searched every inch of the grounds a dozen times. Every second they spent in the house made him more nervous, by the time they were packing up to leave he was having a hard time keeping the edge out of his voice.
"Thank you for your cooperation today," Kingsley smiled as his team trudged out of the manor after hours wasted.
The Auror second class made him apprehensive. Something about how the man watched him. "Of course, anything I can do to help," Draco offered, though they both knew it was an empty gesture.
Kingsley looked at him again, his gaze hard and assessing, "Take this," he said fishing a card out of his rode pocket, "I case you ever have any questions."
Draco to the card out of politeness, expecting to throw it away as soon as the Auror was gone. "Thank you," he said and they shook hands once more before all of the intruders were finally out of his house.
After watching them go Draco thought it was time to make up for the meals he had missed. Moving to the kitchen dropped the card on the counter expecting one of the house elves to clean it up later.