Quotes from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince are used in this chapter. I acknowledge that these are not mine.
It had taken a while for his mother to get over the episode with Mrs. Parkinson the day before. Sitting at the breakfast table now, she looked content eating her coffee and scones whilst reading the Daily Prophet.
'Oh look at that' she exclaimed, 'Igor Karkaroff's been found dead in a shack up north.' Her voice, however, revealed a more sarcastic tone than that of shock.
Draco wasn't really listening. A beaten up looking owl had flown in the same time as the Daily Prophet. It held a letter that was addressed to him in what looked like his Aunt Bellatrix's writing. Draco was a little surprised at this. Why would she be sending him letters? Usually she addressed them to his mother and wasn't she supposed to be in hiding? He supposed it explained the condition the owl was in; it looked like it had just had a hard journey and didn't look that happy about the return trip. Draco placed a small piece of toast in its beak and it flew out on the balcony to eat it. His mother hadn't noticed the letter in his hands.
'Stupid traitor anyway…' Draco heard her mumble. He proceeded to open the letter cautiously.
Dear Draco,
DON'T SHOW THIS TO YOUR MOTHER. She will only worry. (Draco glanced up at his mother, she was humming a small tune and now looked preoccupied with the gossip section of the newspaper.) I know about your task and I intend to help you. Don't pretend like you don't need it, because you do. I am currently in an unspeakable location (Draco suspected it was somewhere up north) and will be unable to help you directly. So, follow my instructions carefully as this is what you are to do.
Inside Hogwarts there is an ancient black and gold cabinet known as the vanishing cabinet. It has a pair in Borgin and Burkes, but unfortunately for you, it is in need of repair. It was broken in your second year by that idiotic Peeves. Once repaired, the cabinets act as a secret pathway to and from Hogwarts. You can use this yourself to help you develop the weapons you need to do your job.
You need to do this ASAP, before you go back to school. Borgin may be reluctant to help. Show him your arm if you have to.
Love, Aunt Bellatrix.
Draco didn't know what to think. At first he could feel anger boiling up inside him because he hated how everyone automatically thought he needed help when they hadn't even given him a chance to prove himself yet. Then he was confused because he didn't understand what 'weapons' Bellatrix was talking about or how he was going to get them. Draco did remember the Vanishing Cabinet from last year. Montague, the Slytherin Quiddich Captain, was trapped in there by Fred and George Weasley. He remembered him telling a tale of how he could hear part of what was going on at Hogwarts, and parts of conversation in Borgin and Burkes. Draco didn't understand it at the time. It was a rather ingenious idea and he was regretting not coming up with it himself.
If he was going to follow Bella's plans he would have to act fast. A plan was already formulating in his head.
'Mother?'
'Yes dear,' said his mother, glancing up from her newspaper.
'I need to go to Diagon Alley for new robes, the house elves forgot to get them with my school supplies.'
'Why don't you just ask them again, dear?' she asked. Draco got a little frustrated.
'No, mother they won't get the right ones, besides this house is beginning to feel like a prison.'
'Alright if you must,' she sighed, 'but I'm coming with you.'
'-mother I'm not a child!'
She just stared at him, her eyes full of tears. Draco had always been sheltered and as the only Malfoy heir, his family felt the need to preserve him. He sighed this time, but agreed with his mother.
About an hour later, Draco and his mother passed through the Leaky Cauldron as a means into Diagon Alley. There weren't many people in the bar, but he could feel their sideways glances and hear the whispers of people as he passed them.
'Did you hear about his father?'
'Gunna be locked up for a while that one-'
'- in the Dark Lords back pocket though…'
'I heard that they have a dungeon under their house where they lock up muggleborns!'
'-wouldn't surprise me'
Draco tried to ignore the whispers, he should have expected this. It was then he realized that he'd be getting this all year at Hogwarts, and decided that he was going to get used to it. It hurt him to hear people talking about his father like that. The fact that he was built remarkably like his father would probably cause people to talk about him, he thought to himself.
As he walked out into Diagon Alley he was met by a poster of a woman he immediately recognized. Her long black hair and Azkaban robes made up the image of imprisoned Bellatrix Lestrange and became too much for him. Thoughts filled his head as he imagined his father, in the same robes, screaming for his life just as his Aunt was in the photo. His mum obviously noticed his anxiety and felt it too, because she grabbed Draco by the arm and immediately began to walk in the opposite direction.
Diagon Alley was not how it used to be, there were almost no children with their small hands pressed up against shop windows like usual. Florean, the ice cream man had 'relocated' and an eerie silence fell over the street like something was missing. Draco began to have doubts about what he was about to do. There was always the possibility that the letter was intercepted, or maybe Bellatrix hadn't even written it, maybe it was all a setup? Draco felt his hands become clammy and he found himself scrunching his robes in his fist.
'Madame Malkin's is closer, well go there for your robes' said his mother.
The two of them walked into an empty shop. Madame Malkin wasn't even in sight. Narcissa pulled out her lace handkerchief and rang the little bell on the counter. Madame Malkin looked different than Draco had remembered her. She was slightly thinner and her face had a grey tinge to it. She looked like she had been crying when she walked out from the back of the shop.
'How may I help you dears?' she said, almost automatically. Although she didn't actually look in the mood to be helping anyone.
'Draco needs some new robes, for school.' His mother ordered.
'Draco…Draco Malfoy?'
'IS THAT A PROBLEM?' His mother barked.
'No… no of course not' Madame Malkin winced when Narcissa screamed and she was now fluttering about in a nervous manner. 'I'll… I'll just get my pins' she stammered and bounced off in the other direction.
A few minutes later Madame Malkin was making some alterations to his robes, his mother stood by watching him. Apparently it seemed to her that if she looked away from him he might disappear.
'You don't have to stare at me all the time; I'm not a child, in case you haven't noticed. Mother I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone' said Draco. His mother began to protest when Madame Malkin butted in.
'Now dear, you're mothers quite right,' she said, obviously trying to get back on his mothers good side. 'None of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own any more. It's nothing to do with being a child –'
'Watch where you're sticking that pin will you!' Draco was beginning to get frustrated; this lady knew nothing about what was going on. He climbed off the pedestal and began to examine himself in front of the mirror when he saw them behind him.
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and the mudblood, Hermione Granger had just entered the shop. Draco couldn't believe it, if there was anyone he hated more than Dumbledore it was these three. They were all in the same year at school, Hermione was a mudblood, and had a freakish obsession with answering every question in class before anyone else could. Teachers loved her, Draco hated the way she assumed she was better than the rest of the year level, when in fact she was actually less important. Ron Weasley was a pureblood, but his family were well known Muggle lovers and as a result were rejected by purebloods. He was marginally smarter than Crabbe and Goyle, only because he had Hermione helping him all the time, he thought bitterly.
Harry, or 'the boy who lived' or 'the chosen one' if you like, was someone who Draco especially despised. He had defeated Voldemort as a baby, due to a minor mistake on the Dark Lord's behalf, and ever since then he has taken full credit for it. He has narrowly escaped many meetings with the Dark Lord through luck and help (always help) from Dumbledore.
Well Dumbledore won't always be around to save him, thought Draco revengefully.
'If you're wondering what the smell is mother, a mudblood just walked in' called Draco.
'I don't think there's any need for language like that' butted in Madame Malkin again. The trio now had there wands pointed at Draco. He didn't even know why they tried, they always threatened him with their wands but they never followed through, they were too nice, too weak to do anything like that. And just as he expected, the mudblood stopped Harry and Ron and made them put their wands away.
'Yeah, like you'd dare do magic outside school' he sneered at them. 'Who blacked your eye Granger? I want to send them flowers' the mudblood stared at him, she knew she couldn't say anything because the fact is, he was right. She was a mudblood, and will always be one. Mudbloods can't change, and that's why The Dark Lord needed to dispatch of them as soon as he could.
Madam Malkin, more a hindrance than a help, butted in for the third time now. Honestly was she trying to run a business or not? He thought to himself.
His mother than came around from behind a clothes rack and told the trio to put their wands away. Draco didn't have his out, he wasn't stupid.
'What are you going to do? Get a few death eater pals onto us, are you?' taunted Harry.
The poor boy really had no idea, thought Draco. In their first year Draco offered Harry a friendship, but he refused. Pity, he thought, he could have taught Harry so much, about what from right from wrong, and about powerful people and weak people. But Harry chose the weak side and as a result became best friends with these two misfits.
Harry now began being a smart-arse to his mother about his father in Azkaban, and Draco snapped.
'Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter' threatened Draco. Before he could do anything, Madame Malkin came bouncing around him again and began to stick pins into him. Malfoy had enough.
'OUCH! Watch were you're sticking these pins, woman! Mother I don't want these anymore-'
Narcissa down looked at Hermoine. 'You're absolutely right, honey. Now we know the kind of scum that shops here we'd do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's'. And with that they left the shop.
They spent another half an hour in Twilfitt and Tatting's. Draco wasn't really concerned with what robes he got; he had other, more important things on his mind. They walked out the shop with a bag of jade-green robes, lined in sliver and completed with four diamond buttons down the front.
'Mother, I need to use the lavatory' said Draco, it was all he could think of to get himself out of her sight. She looked reluctant at the idea.
'Do you really want to go…here?'
'Yes mother, you can survive without me for five minutes, surely. Go and get yourself a coffee, ill meet you back here' she hesitated, looking for an alternative, but didn't find one and eventually agreed.
Draco headed towards the public toilets but took a detour and looked carefully back over his shoulder. He moved fast towards Knockturn Alley, which was even more deserted that Diagon Alley had been. He looked around for Borgin and Burkes. He vaguely remembered coming here with his father a few years ago, and being overwhelmed by so many different sights that day, he learned what it really meant to be involved in the Dark Arts. It took more than simply learning spells and being intelligent. It took initiative, courage and savagery. He learned that the Dark Arts was not a hobby, but a way of life.
Draco entered the shop. Images of dark objects, expensive relics, skulls and strange colored potions surrounded him. He felt immediately intimidated, but kept up his appearance as he approached the shopkeeper.
'You must be Borgin' Draco extended a hand to him. Borgin shook it and looked quizzical.
'Yes, and you are?'
'Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.' Borgin looked slightly more interested than before. He straightened up
'Lucius's son?' he enquired.
'The one and only' Replied Draco, with a smile. 'I was after a little help; you see I have a cupboard that matches your one over there…' Draco pointed to the cabinet in the front left corner of the shop that he'd seen in the window walking in. 'I was wondering how I would go about fixing it. Do you know how to fix it?' Borgin looked Hesitant.
'Possibly, ill need to see it though, why don't you bring it in to the shop?'
'I cant, it has to stay put, just tell me how to do it.' Borgin began to argue, Draco was not going to accept it. His mother would probably be wondering where he was.
'I can't guarantee anything' said Borgin.
'No?' sneered Draco. And he did as his aunt told him, and showed Borgin the image of the skull on the inside of his forearm. Borgin's expression changed instantly, he agreed to help him, even writing down the steps for him on a piece of parchment. Draco thanked him and began to leave.
'Oh and don't forget to keep that one safe for me will you?'
'Of course, sir.' Borgin made a bow. Draco nodded his head and walked out the door, pleased with what he'd just achieved.
He walked back to his mother, who was looking around anxiously for him, with a small latte in her hands.
'C'mon quickly, we better go, I simply can't handle all these stares…'
Draco and his mother headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. Draco couldn't wait to get home to read the list of spells and incantations Borgin had given him to fix the cabinet. It was going to take time, he could tell by the size of the list Borgin handed to him. But for now, it remained deep in the pocket of his robes and out of sight.
I think this is my longest chapter yet. I tried to be as accurate as possible, using quotes from the HBP. If you see anything important that i've missed or gotten wrong, please tell me :) Thanks!
