A/N: Work was slow this week, and I was feeling poorly, so I'm having a mini-vacation. Which means I finally had a chance to polish up this chapter and get it posted. Hurray for me. I also know that I should say something but I can never think of anything once I start to write the author's notes. So I'll just give you a piece of useless information I came across. How the Kangaroo got its name: a true story.
Back in the Eighteenth century, a group of English naturalist were touring Australia to document the various species of animal. When one of them spotted a strange jumping mammal, he asked the native Australian guide what the animal was called. The guide answered, in his own language, "I don't know". And that is how the Kangaroo got its name. Now you know.
Chapter Four: Happy Birthday
"It's called a con," Mick was explaining to little Draco. "All you do is pretend."
The nine-year-old boy was confused. He asked if it was like playing. Mick explained it was more like acting, except you were doing it for only one (very rich) person. It was only a small role. He didn't even have to pretend he was lucky or happy. He was only a sad little boy who had lost his money.
Draco laughed. He wouldn't know how to pretend to be lucky but he had plenty of experience at being sad. And at losing things.
That was why he was sitting on the curb that day. His head hung down as though all the worries of the world were weighing him down. It was twenty minutes before the mark came by. He listened as the footsteps came close. As they did, the clomp of old trainers came from the other direction, along with a shout of "Hey, Paulie."
Draco looked up, away from the mark, to see a pimply teen shouting at him. The teen laughed out the words, "You missed out on Smiley's bet?" Draco heard the mark, almost in his view, stop. The teen was ignoring him, looking only at Draco with a laughing grin. The teen goaded him, "You din't bet on 'im, did you?"
It was Draco's turn. "T'aught I knew better."
Another laugh as the teen pulled money out of a pocket. "Pretty Face at ten to one."
The mark spoke. "You know Mister Miles?"
The teen started bragging. "Did 'im a favour. 'e did me one." Draco went back to hanging his head, not knowing what else he should do.
"He told me," the mark said cautiously, "that Ladysmith would be a good choice if I were to bet on one of the races, tomorrow. Is he reliable?" Draco decided to glance up.
"Fifty Quid, reliable," the teen said as he pulled out the money and waved it at the man. Concern and hope came over his face. "Did 'e really say tha'?"
The man must have nodded because the teen suddenly grinned as he reached down and grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him up. "Ya' get a secon' chance, Paulie. 'ere's a Lady for ya. Ya owe me." His voice was excited. "Thanks, mister."
Draco clutched the five pound note in his hand as he ran after the teen, supposedly to bet on a bloody horse race. Once they were safely out of sight. The teen slowed down. He said Draco did a good job as a sad little kid. Then he introduced himself.
That was the day he met Nigel, fresh out of Saint Brutus. He met Nigel again the next day, after the teen had used his money to make a score. He also found out that the mark had bet Twenty Thousand Pounds in cash on Ladysmith. The horse actually did win but the bookmaker had disappeared.
Mick explained to Draco that Nigel was able to see himself doing those things. That was why it was so easy. Draco was never asked to help out again but he always remembered that advice. Whenever he was in trouble, which was often, he became the wide-eyed innocent. It worked the first few times, until people began to remember who he was.
Draco remembered. The best way to pretend was to live the role. Be that person. And it was working for him. He was that person. He wasn't the wide-eyed innocent this time. This time he was the newest, and proudest, member of an exclusive club. And he was being escorted by his loving godmother, in his fancy black and silver dress robes, to the ballroom he had left two hours ago. It was his birthday. He was going to have a party.
The doors were thrown open and Draco looked in with amazement. A long table against one wall, set carefully with the knowledge that this was a party for a young teenager. The centerpiece was a modest sized yet elegant birthday cake. At the far end was a stage with a band playing. Aunt Bella said they were hesitant to perform until they were told who the birthday boy was and that it was his first 'real' party. She added with a small laugh that they knew him. Draco nodded as he recognized the guitarist. The man nodded at him.
Someone hit his shoulder. Draco turned. Greg was grinning from ear to ear as he said, "Happy Birthday, Mate." Vince hit his shoulder as he said the same thing. The other guest approached as Aunt Bella pushed him forward. Most of them he recognized. Those he didn't know were dates of the invited guests. The entire Slytherin Quidditch team was there, which was no surprise. Most of the guests were Slytherin. The obvious exceptions were Cousin Casper and William Potter. Draco was surprised to see Susan Bones there, but did notice she kept close to Terence Higgs. Not that he had a chance just then to more than glance at them.
Pansy Parkinson chose that time to push past everyone and throw her arms around him, loudly wishing him a happy birthday and kissing him on the cheek. Draco returned her hug as best he could and gave her a heartfelt thank you. She let him go but possessively held onto his right arm. And he did understand. No one would, accidently or otherwise, embarrass him when they went to shake his hand. Her other intention was also clear. She was to be Draco's date for the party. She cemented that role when the band started to plan a certain tune. One that Draco had played at the Yule Ball. Pansy sighed. "I love this song." She looked at Draco, giving him her best mix of Vixen and Innocent. "I loved it from the first time I heard it."
Draco gave her a quick kiss on the lips as he told her, "So did I."
The adults watched from their own group near one corner. Aunt Bella was talking to her sister, Narcissa, most of the time. Uncle Severus spent most of his time watching the crowd with the occasional amused glance at Sirius Black who was trying to keep to himself as much as possible. There were a couple, somebody's parents. The wife had joined the other women while the husband tried to engage either Sirius or Severus in conversation. He ended up standing next to Sirius, making sure they both had something stronger than butterbeer to drink.
Most of the first hour was spent with Draco making the rounds, trying to talk to everyone. He was helped out by Pansy asking him to dance. That was when she found out how good he was. "Sorry, Love," he apologized. "I was never the one to go to dances." Pansy commented about Luna Lovegood. Draco admitted that she knew how to lead. He didn't know what he was doing half the time.
He did have a chance to talk to Susan Bones and Terence Higgs. They weren't serious about each other but they were friends. Pansy admitted that she and Draco weren't serious, either. They were trying to decide if they were friends.
Draco knew it had to happen. The question was carefully asked when the musicians took their break. The guitarist wanted him to come on stage. Everyone knew he could not play but he could sing. Draco nodded. For this, he was prepared. He did have a reputation. He didn't know any wizarding songs, which this crowd would expect. Therefore, he would compromise.
The lead singer, at the beginning of the second set, gave a small speech about how they agreed to perform at a party because the guest of honor had shared the stage with them. He then asked if Draco Malfoy would do them the honour of repeating the gesture.
The applause seemed natural as Draco sat down his bottle of butterbeer and walked toward the stage. Pansy was the first to wish him luck. As he stepped onto the stage, he talked briefly to the band members, letting them know the key the song was sung in. Then he turned around. He was facing his most . . . willing . . . audience.
"This is a song I learned last year from a friend I made while he was visiting at Hogwarts." Draco smiled. That would prepare them for what he did next. His right arm tucked in his robes, he gestured with his left hand to the small crowd. Not that it had anything to do with the song.
Has du etwas Zeit fur mich
Dann singe ich ein Lied fuer Dich
Von 99 Luftballons
Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont
Denkst Du vielleicht grad' an mich
Dann singe ich ein Lied fuer Dich
Von 99 Luftballons
Und dass sowas von sowas kommt
The musicians were good. Not knowing the song, the first stanza was a capella. They managed a light backup on the second stanza, and a lot stronger by the last. It was better than Draco expected. And it worked. The polite applause was expected. Those few who knew German seemed a little louder. Adrian Pucey said it was because they knew Draco's background. And it was funny, and typical, that muggles would blow themselves up over toy balloons.
It was wonderful. After they had some cake, Pansy decided that Draco needed to learn to dance. That forced him back into being the center of attention. Tracey Davis insisted she was the better teacher. Daphne Greengrass snidely remarked that the subject was dancing, not snogging. Tracey retorted that she was better than Daphne at both. Pansy led Draco away as the two argued. They ended up near Casper and a girl who had been coerced to be his partner. Draco felt better. There was someone who was a worse dancer than he was. Everyone had a good time. Even the girl who was dancing with Casper. She now had someone she could make her comments to.
There was one piece of cake left. Draco had insisted. It was for the person who made the cake. As the last of the guests departed, he called for Kreacher. The house elf appeared at once, wishing his master a happy birthday. Draco offered him the cake, if he wanted it. Kreacher's reaction was one of pride. He noted that master always thought of him.
When Draco turned around it was to see the adults watching him. Aunt Bella was clearly amused while her sister was shaking her head at such an unseemly act. Uncle Severus seemed to ignore what happened. Uncle Sirius, on the other hand, seemed embarrassed. It was as though Draco had done something that he should have thought to do. Casper and William thought it funny while Theodore Nott shared his aunt's amusement.
All thoughts about cake and house elves then left. The ballroom doors opened . Two Death Eaters, still wearing masks, entered. One stood just inside and watched as the larger of the two approached. His identity was given away when Aunt Bella demanded to know what Rabastan was doing. The man removed his mask and said that he was making sure of a few things. He wanted some personal assurances of Draco's loyalty. He sneered at Sirius and told him not to worry. No one was going to hurt the boy.
Draco stood his ground and haughtily demanded to know what assurances. Rabastan laughed. He wanted proof of Draco's loyalties. Bellatrix began to say, "the Dark Lord . . ." but was stopped by Rabastan pointing a finger at her. He knew what the Dark Lord said. He did not doubt their master. He did doubt the newest servant. Turning back to Draco, Rabastan added that loyalties can change. Draco was still young. With a malicious grin he stood before him and demanded that Draco promise never to challenge their lord and master.
Draco returned the man's look with a sneer of his own. The man could not be trusted to help his own brother. A promise to him was a waste of breath.
The man reached out and grabbed Draco's right arm. "A binding oath," he snarled. "That you will never challenge the Dark Lord."
Despite the painful grasp, Draco smiled. "Never? Not even with permission?" He was happy that his laugh did not seem forced.
"Permission?" Rabastan seemed surprised by the question, and angry at the impertinence of the one who asked it.
Narcissa Nott was there, wand in hand. She was laughing lightly, amused by the exchange. "I think the idea is wonderfully amusing, Rabastan. Why don't we do this? Draco makes a binding oath that he will never challenge the Dark Lord unless he has permission of . . . everyone in this room. I think that should be satisfactory, even for a birthday boy with a rude sense of humour."
"That sounds wonderful, Missus Nott," Draco said dryly. He said suddenly, as though he remembered something. "But what if someone dies? Can I have someone replace them?"
Narcissa gave a genuine laugh. "Yes you can, as long as no one objects."
She held her wand over Rabastan's hand where he grabbed Draco's arm. She then suggested that the man "get on with it." The man grunted with ill humour but he did demand the oath, with the emphasis on needed everyone's permission. Draco smiled.
"I agree to the entire oath with one exception." His voice became angry "I won't ask your permission. I don't care what you think."
"Good enough," Rabastan retorted. "I don't care what happens to you, either."
As everyone watched, thin red flames shot out of Narcissa's wand where it was touching Rabastan's hand. As the oath was completed the flame wrapped itself around his hand and Draco's arm. As it faded, Draco smirked and asked the man if he was satisfied.
Rabastan Lestrange gave a smirk of his own as he said yes. He turned to the other Death Eater, calling him Rosier, and said it was time to leave. Rosier stepped away from Severus Snape, whom he had been talking to, and both men left.
Comments were being made at once. Sirius could be heard assuring William that Draco had merely agreed not to commit suicide. Aunt Bella was commenting that Rodolphus was the only one in that family with a brain. Narcissa Nott's comment was Draco's favorite, and not because it was addressed to him. She asked if he agreed that it was a wonderful waste of time and breath. Draco commented that his favorite part was when Rabastan left.
For all that happened, Uncle Severus seemed stoic about the entire incident. He said he expected something like this to happen and was only grateful that it wasn't long and drawn out.
The last problem of the day was when it came time for Draco to leave. Sirius Black also had to return one now extremely nervous William Potter to his home. Casper assured everyone that his friend knew not to say anything. Draco could tell, and that was probably true of everyone else, that Casper was warning William. But that still left the problem of how to take William home without Draco having to come along.
Kreacher came up with the obvious solution. With Sirius Black's permission, he would take Draco home. The house elf took Draco's left hand in his and took a curious step. The next moment they were back in Sirius's living room. As a side note, Kreacher was still holding the plate with the slice of birthday cake. There was a small flash and Kreacher's hand was empty.
"Master must listen."
It amused Draco at how forceful the house elf sounded. As though it was an order. Kreacher repeated the statement. It was an order. It was for Draco's own good that he must know certain things. He then gained the boy's full attention by mentioning the locket. The locket they had destroyed so many months ago.
Kreacher had once met the man who gave Draco the mark on his arm. A year to the day after Master Regulus took the mark, he had told Kreacher to go with the man and do whatever he was commanded. He was to return when the Dark Lord was finished with him.
He was taken to a cave and across a wide underground lake to an island. There was a basin. Filled with a potion. The Dark Lord filled a cup with the potion and made Kreacher drink. He filled it again and again. Horrors filled Kreacher's thoughts and he cried out for someone, anyone, everyone to save him. When the basin had been drained, Voldemort placed in the locket, then refilled it with potion.
The Dark Lord left.
Draco cringed as Kreacher described the Inferi that inhabited the lake, which tried to drag him under the water, that would have had he not returned to Master Regulus.
Draco took up the tale. He asked to be corrected if he was wrong. Master Regulus had Kreacher take him to the cave. He then drank the potion. (That's what I would have done, Draco thought, and everyone keeps telling me I'm so much like him.) Kreacher nodded his head to show that Draco was correct. He then corrected Draco's next statement. He, not Master Regulus, pulled the locket out of the basin. He also placed a duplicate in its place. Then Kreacher frowned, almost sobbing as he told how Master ordered him to leave and destroy the locket.
Draco cringed when Kreacher told him: Regulus was only seventeen. He was only sixteen when he joined the Death Eaters. He was afraid that Draco, now that he too had the mark, would suffer the same fate. Draco was fifteen.
It was small comfort to Kreacher to be told that his master would have died if he had not taken the mark.
Nor was it any comfort to Draco. He had never asked the house elf about Regulus. Walburga Black, in all their conversations, had never talked about her son's death. Only that one day, he was gone. All this time, he had imagined someone who was at least his father's age. Now he knew he was someone as old as Fred or George.
I'll die, Draco thought. In a year. No more than two. The man will have me prove myself and I have no excuse not to.
That night, before Sirius Black returned, Draco pulled out his diary. He had not written in it for a long time. Turning to the first blank page, he wrote the date. Underneath the date, he wrote one sentence.
Today I befriended a madman.
