Chapter 2

A thin layer of perspiration formed over Draco's back and along his hairline as he stood silently head bowed under the hot sun his face closed, his grey eyes blank as he stood beside his father watching the white box containing his mothers sleeping form enter the Malfoy family crypt. It was such a beautiful day, the sky was a clear blue and cloudless, just the kind of day his mother liked best. It seemed to mock his pain; as if the world didn't care his lungs were closing up so tightly he couldn't breathe and his heart felt like lead in his chest.

His mother was gone. His youthful, wonderful, sophisticated mother; she had gone. His mother would never again stroke his hair, touch his cheek, laugh lightly and smile that happy smile when she saw him again at his return from school. It had always seemed like such a long time for his mother when he was away at Hogwarts.

Lifting veiled eyes from the coffin he glanced to his left. She was stood there, tall, imposing, elegant in her long, flowing black dress; Bellatrix Lestrange.

A surge of hate Draco had never felt before blasted through his body and it took every ounce of his self control to keep his hands linked together behind his back and not reach for his wand. Never before had he experienced the urge to cause the most unbelievable pain anyone could cause to another person.

Vaguely Draco wondered where this urge had been the night Dumbledore had died. Why didn't he have the urge to kill that night like he did right now? If he had his mother might still be alive and with him today, she wouldn't have needed to try to protect him as she had done.

Swivelling his eyes from the hated woman beside him, Draco turned once more to his mother, to say his last silent goodbye to the woman who had loved him more than her own life. Would there ever again be someone in his life who would love him as fiercely?

In his head Draco chanted his goodbye over and over again, silently telling his mother he loved her and would miss her. As the door closed on the crypt sheet of ice covered his heart and Draco felt he would never feel anything good again.

Turning away, unwilling to allow those gathered to pay their respects to the wife of Lucius Malfoy to see his tears, Draco strode across the grounds of Malfoy Manor into the cool foyer of the house. He scurried up the spiralling staircase like a frightened mouse and went directly to his room.

A few minutes later his father appeared, tall and intimidating in his black mourning robes, his long blonde hair pulled back into a black ribbon. Lucius gazed at his son, not possessing the words to speak comfort to him when there was no comfort to give.

Running a hand across his forehead Lucius sighed heavily. "You did well, Draco."

Draco scowled, but said nothing. He did however notice how tired his father suddenly looked. His shoulders sagged and deep circles had appeared beneath his eyes. He looked wretched, but he couldn't feel as dreadful as he did, Draco was sure of that.

"I don't think anyone suspected a thing," Lucius continued. "Did you pack?"

"Yes," Draco replied dully. "Are we really going? To them I mean?"

Lucius nodded. "It is not safe for you to stay here. Your mother gave her life fighting for you to live. It is my duty to ensure her death was not in vain." Clearing his throat Lucius squared his shoulders. "You are my only son, Draco, I do not want to live through the day I say goodbye to you as well. So, we shall go."

"What if they don't trust us?" Draco wondered, he couldn't see Harry Potter leaping to help them.

"Of course they won't trust us, Draco," Lucius said softly, a small, sly smile curling his lips. "But I know Harry Potter and his honorable ways. Dumbledore offered you full protection, your mother too; Harry Potter will not go back on the word of Dumbledore."

Draco nodded, stifling a sigh, today was the worst of his life, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with Harry Potter on top of it all. He summoned his case from its hiding place under the bed and his father shrank it down.

"Are you sure you have everything you need?"

"Everything," Draco replied despondently.

"Then we shall go while Bella is playing hostess downstairs," Lucius muttered, his face flushing angrily at the nerve of the woman who had killed her own flesh and blood.

Draco crept silently behind his father down the darkened corridors of Malfoy Manor to his father's study. They were to use the floo network to get to The Leaky Caldron and from there his father intended them to apparate to The Burrow, the home of the Weasley clan.

He did not much like the idea of turning up unannounced at The Burrow, and Draco's aristocratic nose automatically turned up at the idea of setting one foot inside that tin can of a house. But he knew there was no other way, he and his father might be found if they attempted to disappear on their own and Dumbledore had said they could be hidden more completely than he ever imagined.

That was what Draco was hoping for, the chance to escape the darkness surrounding him, dragging him down into deep black pit from which there was no escape.

Once in the study Draco moved quickly to the fire grate, his heart beating an unruly pattern in his chest as fear of being caught and punished overrode all other emotion. Trying to swallow down the nervous lump in his dry throat he cast a worried glance at his father. A small frown creased his forehead; his father was staring around the room as though he would never see it again. But they would come back here, once everything was over they'd come back to Malfoy Manor, it had been the Malfoy's home for centuries, it was to come to him upon his father's death; it belonged to him.

Lucius stepped into the grate beside his son. He wondered vaguely when Draco had grown so tall, they were almost the same height, there were only a few inches between them. Same hair, same eyes, same build; Draco was a younger version of himself and the thought scared Lucius. He didn't want his son to make the same mistakes he had.

Lucius clearly stated he wanted to go to The Leakey Caldron and dropped the floo powder into the grate. Through the rushing green light from the flames Draco's eyes rested on the large painting of Narcissa Malfoy hanging on the wall beside her husband's desk. She was young and beautiful in the painting, standing on the balcony overlooking the gardens in her flowing white wedding dress. Draco kept staring until his mothers face was replaced by the dimly lit, grimy room of The Leaky Caldron and was practically dragged from the grate and through the door into the street. Draco shot his father a reproachful look from the corner of his eye for treating him in such a manner in public. They were still Malfoy's, they still had a reputation to protect, didn't they?

"Side along apparation is probably best under the circumstances," Lucius informed him, grey eyes darting around, always alert.

"I did pass my apparation test." Draco wasn't sure he liked the idea of turning up at the Weasley's clinging to his father's arm like a child.

"Don't argue now," Lucius snapped offering his arm, the tight look on his face warning Draco not to dawdle.

The sense of urgency he felt from his father communicated itself to him and Draco was completely annoyed with himself at the quivering muscles in his lower abdomen. Of course he knew the danger of their situation; he knew what would happen to them both should the Death Eaters catch up to them or if Potter and his merry band of mud bloods refused to help them.

Always Draco had trusted his father, never once had he really questioned any decision Lucius made; but now he couldn't stop the doubts. Now he was terrified of what might happen to them both if this all went wrong.

He didn't want to end up back at Malfoy Manor before the Dark Lord and his violent rage. He didn't want to see those dark snake eyes looking at him so coldly, so unmercifully while unforgivable curses rained down upon his unsheltered body.

"I can't walk with you hanging on me, Draco," Lucius said quietly. "Don't you trust my apparation skills?"

They had arrived at the Weasley's home. Draco's cheeks stained pink when he realised he had been squeezing his father's arm a lot tighter than he should have. "Of course I do, I just don't like side along apparation that's all," Draco lied smoothly, after all it wouldn't do for his father to think him weak and scared.

"Well, come along, Draco."

Draco trailed behind his father, his eyes sweeping the old building badly in need of a fresh coat of paint, the garden that was so overgrown the grass came well above his knees, there were more weeds than flowers of any kind and he was pretty sure he spotted a gnome scurrying into the bushes. It was a far cry from the elegance of Malfoy Manor with its whitewashed walls and neatly clipped grass, the scent of flowers always lingering in the air.

He jumped at the loud rapping of his father's knuckles on the door. Why in the name of all things magic had his father, Lucius Malfoy, the man who could talk his way out of a room with no doors gone running to Potter? His father knew the darkest of magic, he knew people in high places, surely there was someone in Lucius long line of acquaintances who could help them if he cared to ask for a favour. Why did they need to come grovelling to Potter? It was a horrendous state of affairs to be in.

"Whose there? Identify yourself," Arthur Weasley called out from behind the door.

Lucius cleared his throat. "Lucius and Draco Malfoy."

Draco's ears caught the whispering of voices on the other side of the door, but he couldn't understand what was being said. He held his breath as the door opened a crack and an eye peered out at him with a patch of red hair above it.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, Weasley. Aren't you going to invite me in?" Lucius asked dryly.

"You've got a nerve, Malfoy."

"I have many things," Lucius responded. "One of them being manners, I do not converse with my guests on the door step."

"Guests? No-one invited you here," Arthur pointed out. "Why are you here? Be quiet, George."

"I'd like to see Mr Potter. He is here I take it?" Lucius asked, his tone bored. When Arthur Weasley didn't move to offer them entrance to his home Lucius sighed heavily. "Do you really think this is a trap? Do you think I would place my son in such danger? If the Death Eaters were here they'd have set fire to your home by now and watched it burn with you and your family still inside it. I'm alone except for Draco."

The truth of the statement hit Draco like the Hogwarts Express; smack in his stomach to knock the air from his lungs and make him gasp in horror. His father was right, they were both alone except for the other. They had only each other for support, for comfort, for strength. The quiet strength of the Malfoy family was gone; his mother was no longer there with them.

Despite his father's powerful presence, Draco had never felt more lost and alone.

"All right, come in. But I'm watching you," Arthur said, standing back and allowing them to slip through the small opening.

Lucius couldn't help the sneer curling his lip at the idea of him being afraid of the Weasley's. He took the entire room in at a glance, from the shocked faces of the Weasley's and Lupin, to the tense atmosphere and the hard green eyes of Harry Potter.

Harry sat at the table, Ron Weasley on one side and Hermione Granger on the other. Behind him standing like sentries were the Weasley twins, their feet placed shoulder width apart and their arms folded.

"What do you want?" Harry asked coldly, his eyes travelling from one Malfoy to the other.

"Only what was promised to my son," Lucius replied, moving further into the room, showing he wasn't the least bit intimidated by those surrounding him.

"And what is that?" Harry wondered, a look of confusion crossing his face.

"You were there, Mr Potter, the night Dumbledore died, surely you remember what was offered."

Harry nodded slowly. "Dumbledore offered to hide Draco and Mrs Malfoy so completely the Death Eaters would never find them. Is that why you're here? You want our help?"

Draco's eyes closed briefly, the humiliation of his current predicament was unbearable. He had to rely on Potter for help. Weasley was looking at him as though he were nothing and Granger hadn't even looked at him. A mud blood thinking she was better than him. He hated these people, every last one of them stood for something he and his father despised; to rely on them, to need them was the ultimate mortification.

The hairs on the back of Draco's neck suddenly stood up. Someone was watching him. Draco turned his head to find Luna Lovegood standing in the doorway beside Ginny Weasley; Ginny's fiery red hair and annoyed expression the complete opposite to Luna's dirty blonde waves and dreamy eyes. She gazed wistfully over at him, large expressive eyes showing mild surprise at finding him standing around in the Weasley's kitchen; but Draco saw no anger, no disgust, no critical looks to condemn him for what he had been a party to. No hatred spewed from Luna's stance as it did from Ron Weasley and Harry Potter; she was just there, quietly hovering in the background another blood traitor present to complete his humiliation and make him uncomfortable.

"In a manner of speaking, yes I do," Lucius agreed slowly. "However, I'm offering my help in return."

"Why?" Remus Lupin moved forward. "Everyone here represents what you have been trying to destroy. The blood traitors," he gestured towards the Weasley's. "The mud-blood," here he rested his hand on Hermione's shoulder, "and the half-breed," he finished, placing a hand to his own chest. "Why now do you want to help us?"

"Why would we want to help you anyway?" Ron snapped. "Only last year you tried to kill us at the Department of Mysteries."

"If I had been trying to kill you, you wouldn't be sitting here," Lucius said quietly.

"And after everything he's said and done to us," Ron added, waving a hand towards Draco. "You turn up here and just expect us to help you and trust you."

"Ron, please," Molly began but was cut off by Fred.

"Ron's got a point, mum. All Malfoy's ever done is make everyone he considered beneath him miserable. And you know what Moody always said, there's nobody as sneaky and slippery as Lucius Malfoy."

"They're both slimy gits," Ron said crossly. "You can't seriously be considering trusting these two, Harry."

Before Harry could form a response, Luna spoke. She didn't raise her voice, but somehow she instantly commanded the attention of the room and they all looked first to her and then to Draco.

"Draco, where is your mother?"

Draco swallowed, willing his tears to stay away. He concentrated on making his face expressionless; but he couldn't control the shaking of his hands as he balled them into fists at his side.

"My wife is dead," Lucius said tonelessly.

"Oh dear," Molly said quietly. "I am sorry."

Draco barely heard her, he was too busy concentrating on Luna who was crossing the room to him. She stood beside him reaching out to touch his arm, her hand hovering near him but deciding not to touch him as she looked up into his closed face, her eyes showing pity and concern.

"I'm sorry, Draco. So terribly sorry," Luna whispered. "How dreadful for you too, Mr Malfoy."

"Yes," Lucius replied, his voice strained.

"How did she die?" Molly asked.

"Bellatrix killed her."

"Bellatrix? But she's her sister," Harry exclaimed, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "Why would she do that?"

"Because Narcissa was a mother trying to keep her son safe. She was trying to send Draco back to Hogwarts out of harm's way and Bellatrix thought he should stay with the Death Eaters. Narcissa told Bellatrix she wished the Dark Lord had never come back and that you had finished him off," Lucius told Harry, his voice strangely emotionless, as though he had distanced himself from the event completely and he was merely telling a sad story of someone else's life.

"That woman is crazy!" Hermione said. "Is that all Bellatrix Lestrange knows how to do? Kill?"

"Bellatrix knows how to destroy," Lucius said. "It's what she's good at."

Harry ruffled his unruly hair. "Dumbledore offered to hide Draco and your wife, he offered to give them full protection and it's not down to me to retract that offer."

"Do you know what you're saying, Harry?" George asked.

"Yes, I know what I'm saying. Dumbledore offered to help Draco and I think he would have offered to help you Mr Malfoy, had you not been in Azkaban at the time. We'll help you all we can."

"What? Why?" Ron demanded, glaring heatedly at the Malfoy's.

Draco was just as shocked as Ron. His father had been right as usual, he had set out to find help and he had accomplished it. But did Lucius know what it would fully mean to live with these people and be indebted to them for life?

He glanced down at Luna out of the corner of his eye; she was still right beside him, almost in a subtle show of solidarity. Although that couldn't be right, Luna Lovegood was hardly an acquaintance never mind a friend, she wouldn't give a damn about him one way or the other.

Luna smiled serenely at Ron's red face. "Because that's what Dumbledore would do if he were here."

Harry nodded. "Exactly."