Scorched Earth Policy
By Terra
Chapter Six: Father Knows Best
"Say you would, say you could/say you'd come and stop the rain/say you'd try and hold me tight/and you just give me away/make me high on lullabies/a melody for me to sway/say you would, say you could/and you don't do anything." Vanessa Carlton, Sway
*** ***
There was no light in the staircase once Harry and Draco passed the ground level so they were forced to risk detection by using their wands. The stairway was very steep and the steps themselves were annoyingly thin; Harry could only fit his heel on each step. Draco practically had to keep his palms plastered to the depressing stone walls to prevent tumbling down the stairs.
How long they crept is anyone's guess but finally they reached the level floor. Their shoes clicked loudly against the granite, causing both to wince.
"Those slippers of yours would've been useful here," Harry whispered. Draco rolled his eyes.
"They wouldn't match this outfit, Potter," Draco joked in a strained voice. Before them were dozens of iron doors with manual locks. Each had a little slot, as if mail was going to be delivered to the prisoners through the door. The slot was definitely too small for a food tray. The hall was completely silent which left three options. One, the children were not in this dungeon. Two, the children were all asleep. Three, they were all dead.
"Well, Door Number One, Door Number Two, or Door Number Thirteen?" Harry asked lightly then added, "We could spend all night opening each and every door here."
"Or, I could do this," Draco replied. He held his wand in front of nose, and muttered to it. A miniscule ball of light appeared at the tip and hummed softly. Draco drew the wand back over his shoulder and flicked his wand hand like a whip. The ball of light left the wand, bouncing all over the walls until it paused at one door, next to the other staircase. The ball banged itself against the door as if it wanted to break in.
"There's Aidan," Draco chirped. "That's proof that he's my son. Only works on blood relatives."
Draco jogged over to the door and waved his wand at the bouncing ball. It winked out of existence. Harry followed behind him, scowling.
"What is the matter with you?" Draco asked in an innocent manner.
"Don't you dare try telling me that it wasn't a spell allotted to the Dark Arts because I'd know that spell anywhere," Harry hissed back.
"Did you seriously want to open every door? I thought you wanted to get out of here."
"Your record is not exactly clean at the moment, Malfoy. You've already killed someone."
"And we've already had this discussion. I didn't use the wand to do it either so you can't snap it."
"But you just did that spell with your wand," Harry pointed out.
"I didn't kill anyone. I only did it to save time. I personally don't see why it's a Dark Arts spell. It's perfectly harmless." Draco opened the slot to look in. Harry rubbed his temple. Maybe this was some terrible nightmare and the climax was coming soon. He pinched himself. It hurt.
"Is he praying?" Draco asked, indicating Harry to look in as well. Harry warily peeked inside.
It did look like Aidan was praying. He was on his knees, his hands in the classic prayer position, his blond hair covering his face. The crescent moon shone down on him, illuminating his figure. He looked ghost-like in the pale half-light from the high window. It took Harry's breath away. Draco pushed Harry aside with a grunt and threw his voice inside, "Praying for a savior?"
Aidan looked up, wondering where the voice had come from. He turned his eyes towards the door and through the slot saw two glittering silver eyes.
"Father!" Aidan cried as he nearly slammed himself against the iron door. Realization hit him. "Wait, how did you…?"
"I gave him temporary permission to leave," Harry explained, moving Draco aside to reveal his famous green eyes to the young teenager. "He's here… to help."
"Of course!" Aidan exclaimed. "Do you know where we are?"
"At the Parkinson estate," Draco supplied.
"That's what I guessed. Mother sold me out, Father."
Draco snorted. "Why am I not surprised? Probably for nothing more than a bottle of vodka."
"Where are the others?" Harry asked.
"Well, one group is three cells down from mine. I got moved earlier on."
"Moved? Why?" Harry responded, inspecting the lock.
"Probably to prevent Aidan from passing on any useful information to the Mudbloods," Draco guessed.
"Father!" Aidan scolded.
"Yes?"
"Could you refrain from using that word?"
"'Useful'? I'll try next time."
"You know what he meant, Malfoy," Harry growled. "Alohomara is not going to work on this lock. There might be an echo." Harry conjured up a set lock picking tools and sat down to work on the complex lock.
"I thought you were going to just abandon us here," Aidan wailed.
"Why would we do that?" Harry asked, from the floor.
"I thought… it's doesn't matter now, does it?" Aidan replied in a worried voice.
"Did they do anything, Aidan?" Draco asked.
"Um… they Crucio'd Marie Halle but there might be more…"
"I wasn't asking about the stupid Mudbloods, I was asking about you! Are you hurt or anything?"
"Well, just minor scrapes from being thrown in here."
"Where?"
"On my palms, knees, and chin. It doesn't hurt…"
"Bastards! Don't they know whom they're dealing with?!"
"Malfoy," Harry interrupted, "they have no idea that you have been released. They thought they were just dealing with a young kid."
"He's part of their screwed-up family as well, in case they've forgotten," Draco snapped back.
"It wasn't the Parkinsons, Father."
"Then who was it?"
"Crabbe and Goyle, Father."
Draco laughed. "Oh, that makes me feel so much better. My own men beating up my son."
"I didn't get beat up! I fell!" Aidan objected. "I'm more worried about the others."
The lock clicked. "It's unlocked now," Harry explained, getting up to open the door. Aidan stood back to provide room. Harry and Draco stepped inside to take a better look at the blond boy.
He actually looked quite well. The scrapes on the palms, knees, and chin had long since stopped bleeding and were beginning to heal. Aidan was slightly dirty from having to sit in a dusty dungeon since the afternoon. The clothes weren't even damaged.
"Muggle clothes," Draco observed, disapprovingly.
"I was in Muggle London all day," Aidan explained.
"Why?"
"I was bored so I went." Aidan smiled in what appeared to be in a disarming way but Draco just rolled his eyes and gestured for his son to exit. The three men left the dark dungeon and closed the door half-heartedly.
Aidan was practically skipping once he was outside his cell. "I can't believe it. I thought I was a goner for sure. I'm positive that they want to do a Memory Charm on me."
"Yes," Draco drawled, "your mother's family was a fan of that policy. They're stupid like that."
"Is this the cell?" Harry asked, interrupting their "touching" moment.
"Yes," Aidan answered, nodding, "the one across from it is where the rest are." Harry sat down to work on the lock once again. Aidan piped up, "I can do the other one."
Both men looked at Aidan in alarm. Harry asked what both were thinking, "You can pick locks?"
"I have to," Aidan explained, "in case I lose a key to somewhere at the Manor. What if someone got locked in?"
"Celebrate?" Draco whispered. If Aidan heard him, he didn't react although Harry scowled at him.
"I guess I can lend you the tools," Harry answered, giving him the pouch, "I want to get you all out of here." And, he added silently, put Malfoy back where he belongs. Aidan silently took the tools and began working on the opposite door. Harry, knowing the trick to the breed of lock, quickly broke it and opened the door.
There were twelve teenagers, ages ranging from twelve to eighteen, huddled together inside the cell. They were in worst condition than Aidan but, again, it wasn't too serious. Some of the articles of clothing had rips in them. A few had bruises or slight cuts developing on their bodies. One girl was huddled in an older boy's lap, shaking. That must be Marie, Harry thought sadly.
The kids immediately began to wail about not taking anymore of their number, especially Marie, who clutched tighter to the older boy's shirt. Harry looked behind him and saw that Draco was standing in the doorway, wearing a devilish smirk.
"Malfoy," Harry barked, "could you stop looking evil for a second? You're scaring them!"
"It's not my fault what I look like, Potter," Draco whined in a very annoying manner. Harry got up from the floor after gathering his supplies and swam into the sea of frightened students.
The boy holding the shaking girl asked in amazement, "Are you Harry Potter?"
"Yes," Harry answered, "is that Marie Halle?"
"Guys, it's okay. He's come to help us!" the boy cheered then added to Harry, "Yes, she's been Crucio'd."
Another girl with her braids falling out answered, "And Isabelle, she got it too. She was trying to warn them. Did Chloe get out?"
Before Harry could reassure them of his daughter's safety, Draco demanded, "What the hell was Chloe Potter doing there?"
The babbling halted as they looked at the blond man. The boy holding Marie inquired, "Are you… Aidan's dad?"
"Yes, he's Draco Malfoy," Harry answered quickly. The boys' and girls' eyes widened in shock.
"Aren't you supposed to be put away somewhere?" the girl with the loose braids asked, worried.
"Yes," Draco answered in an angry voice, "You still haven't answered my question!" The girl whimpered in fright and tried to back away.
"Malfoy," Harry growled, "I mean it. It doesn't matter why she was there. Just drop it or I'll take your wand back." Draco snarled back at him but kept his mouth shut.
"I got it!" Aidan called from across the hall.
"That's good, Aidan!" Harry hollered back and explained, "Aidan's getting the rest of you."
The questions promptly started up again all at once.
"Is he hurt?"
"Is he okay?"
"Have they erased his memory yet?"
"Did he break himself out or what?"
Harry ignored the questions and went out to the other room, finding conditions very much the same, except that Isabelle looked much older than Marie, most likely heading into sixth or seventh year. She was curled up in a corner, quietly sobbing. A huddle of girls were around her, patting her on her back in a soothing fashion.
"Is everyone okay in here?" Harry asked the crowd, "Besides Isabelle?" There was a chorus of mumbled "okay" and "fine". Aidan led the group of twelve out as Harry went to gather the other twelve with Draco.
A group of twenty-four students, twenty-five if Aidan was counted, stood before the two older men in a frightened but hopeful huddle. They looked at each other nervously. It was rather large group they had to save. They both turned away from the group, who were stretching their legs.
"There is no way in hell that we can successful escape with twenty-five teenagers plus two men as a group. They'll hear them," Draco whispered. Harry sadly nodded but replied, "We have no choice. We can't take them in groups because that takes too long. Who knows when they might come down here to torture them or even, forbid the thought, feed them."
"So we have to take them all at once? That's insane, Potter."
"We can't split them up. They'll have to be absolutely silent."
"It's fine to say they'll be silent but they won't be. Even if the regular students do, the two girls will start screaming at a shadow."
"We. Have. No. Choice." Harry stated slowly. They turned back to the children to explain the situation.
"Okay, it must have occurred to you by now that twenty-seven people is a lot to move," Harry explained, "so, you must be absolutely silent. No sound must come out of your throats. If you don't, it doesn't mean just you will suffer but all of us will. Is this clear?"
The children nodded silently.
"No humming, no singing, no coughing, no whispering, nothing. You must be silent or you will not come of out this building alive. I am not exaggerating. Everyone here depends on the complete silence of us moving." Harry scanned the crowd for even a wiggle. No one moved. No one even breathed. They understood. That was easy part. "Let's go and get out of here."
The teenagers understanding their dilemma quickly got up. A girl opened her mouth to ask something of her neighbor but the friend quickly clapped her hand over the talkative girl's mouth. Everyone around her glared at her bashful face. She looked down in shame but she knew enough not to vocally express her regret. Draco indicated for Harry to mount the nearest stairway, which was luckily less steep and had wider steps. The procession walked in complete silence, few dared to breathe too often in case the sound carried up the stone passageway. Draco followed closely behind Harry and Aidan followed behind his father, leading his charges behind him. Their larger male companions carried Marie and Isabelle and they managed to vaguely understand the need for silence and suppressed their sniffling.
The staircase was as cold as the rest of the god-forsaken mansion and every step seemed to Harry to sound like a cannon going off, the clicks echoing to just the wrong person above them. However, no one came across the large group of wizards and witches but the time the adults had reached the landing. Draco looked carefully around to find the passage out. With a nod of his head, he directed the group towards a left hallway. The hallway lacked the fine beautiful objects that the early Malfoys had craved in the days gone by. There were paintings on the wall and the subjects shrugged their shoulders at the group. The paintings had not grown a loyalty to their owners and felt no need to alert them. In breathless silence, they crept around corners and ducked into shadows. The group resembled a giant worm, stopping and starting in parts according to the head's desires.
They eventually crept into a large cloakroom and everyone quietly ducked inside as Aidan shut the door without a word. The children collapsed on to the floor, hanging their heads. None dared to speak but a few choked out large pants.
"I've come up with a clever idea, Potter," Draco whispered in Harry's ear.
"Does that clever idea entail killing everyone here so we can move faster?"
"Of course not. I'd like to but you won't let me. I have a better idea." Draco leaned in closer to his partner, and breathed, "I know my way around. I'll go ahead and stake out the area ahead of the group. As long as I don't get brutally murdered, you'll know that the area is clear."
"How stupid do you think I am?" Harry hissed angrily, "Let you off wandering alone. You'll run and I know it."
"I could watch him," Aidan interrupted softly from his seat underneath them.
Draco smiled. "He took the words out my mouth. I never said I'd go alone. I was about to suggest bringing my son. He won't let me run off. I couldn't leave my son behind, could I?" Draco patted his teenaged son's head as he awaited Harry's response. He looked at the pair again and again as he weighed the pros and cons. Harry knelt to stare Aidan in the face, saying, "Swear to me that you won't let your father out of your sight."
"I swear. These people are my responsibility. I can't let anything happen to them."
"Fine," Harry said, standing up, "Go on ahead. We'll be following in a minute."
Draco smiled at his son as Aidan stood up and went to the door. "Come on, Father," Aidan whispered as he opened the well-oiled door. Draco gestured to his heir to step outside first before exiting the cloakroom himself.
*** ***
It was deadly quiet in the empty hallway. Aidan looked to his father for a indication of where to go. Draco silently pointed to the hallway in front of them and they glided forward into the darkness. Aidan was trembling in excitement. He wasn't wrong, Father was getting better. He hadn't tried to kill anyone, he admitted his weaknesses. Every aspect of his plan was falling into place. Things were starting to look up. Aidan could see a beautiful glimmering light at the end of demeaning tunnel. Had Aidan been raised in a more open household, he would have hugged his father but he politely restrained himself. Lives were at stake.
Draco seemed unbelievably calm. Aidan wondered if his DeathEaters days had numbed him to sneaking around uninvited in the enemy's house, since his face betrayed nothing. His father used his hand to guide Aidan's back towards the correct way, keeping to the dark. He constantly kept looking around to unwanted company but neither Malfoy saw any stragglers.
Aidan couldn't resist whispering, "How much farther is the exit?"
"Not far. Do you hear any of others behind us?" Draco asked. Aidan looked around and strained his ears for any clue of the Muggle-borns moving on. He saw and heard nothing. Aidan shook his head.
It was like being struck by lightning. Draco quickly clapped his free hand over his son's mouth, using his other arm to restrict his breathing and locked Aidan in very nasty embrace. He pulled himself and Aidan against the wall as Aidan struggled vainly. Aidan's squeals squeezed through the gaps between his father's fingers.
"Now, now, Aidan," Draco cooed his ear, "You don't want to scream or all your little friends will be caught, as will you. I can't let you become like your grandmother." Aidan's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Draco explained in a haunted voice, "Grandmother Malfoy is upstairs. They turned her into a vegetable and then chopped off her legs like a worthless Muggle. I had to kill her but I don't want to kill you." Aidan squealed in horror. Father had killed someone, right above his head, Aidan thought in a panic; He killed his own mother. Aidan nearly cried in frustration. Draco clamped his palm tighter over Aidan's mouth and rocked him slowly as if he wished to comfort him after a bad nightmare.
"Aidan," Draco breathed solemnly, "I can't lose you now. Not to Muggles, not to the Mudbloods, not to the Ministry, not even to the brain-dead Parkinsons. You are the flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood. Everything I do, I do for you. I even cooperate with the insane Doctor Lovejoy so I can get out quicker. I don't want to hurt you; it would destroy me to see you damaged in any way." Aidan tried to rip his father's arm away from his mouth but it was no use. Draco looked down at his son also mournfully. "Why are you struggling? There is no need. I'm doing this for your benefit, Aidan. Some day, you'll understand all this. I want you to live on and carry out the Malfoy values," Draco hissed. He removed his wand arm away from his son's neck. Aidan attempted to extract Draco's palm but it was no use. His father pointed the wand tip at the side of Aidan's blond head. He could feel the tip stabbing into his skull. Even if Aidan were to move, the wand would be in place and Draco would not miss.
"Imperio," Draco whispered defiantly. To Aidan's internal horror, Aidan's arms relaxed in his father's grip. His legs uncurled and his feet lay flat on the wooden panels. A fog seemed to cloud his senses. Everything was distant and unimportant. He felt almost sleepy and his eyes drooped slightly against his will. He swayed on the spot and he sighed as he collapsed into his delighted father's chest. Draco absentmindedly stroked his son's rich blond locks as he prepared a command.
"It would be nice for you just to sleep," Aidan could vaguely hear his father say although he didn't really notice, "But that will come later. Shame, really, that I have to do this at all."
Through the dreamy fog, a simple command banged into Aidan's mind: Run to the exit. Suddenly, he knew exactly the location of the back door. His body bolted upright and he began to sprint down the corridors. A tiny voice in head pleaded with him to stop, that he shouldn't abandon the others like this. Aidan could fine little reason why not as the command boomed in his skull. Run. Run. Run. He didn't care if anyone saw him. He used no stealth. He didn't duck into shadows or check around corners. He just ran because that's all he really desired to do.
As he sped down the hallways, farther and farther from his father and controller, the tiny voice gained strength and grew louder. A few times he actually stopped but the mysterious voice in his head screamed his escape and off he went again. The voices tried to speak over the other.
Run
No! Don't!
Run. Just run!
They'll die!
You'll die!
They're your friends!
Save yourself!
They're like family!
Run as fast as you can!
They are your responsibility!
RUN, DAMN YOU!
DON'T LEAVE THEM!
With every step, the battle within his head raged, causing him to stumble and bang into unnoticed walls. Luckily, he met no one because he would have been a strange sight, his hands against his temples, gritting his teeth as his feet tried to trip over themselves. At long last, he reached the kitchen and burst out of the door. Around him was a lush, wet field surrounded by a forest. The warmer air made Aidan smile. You're free, the now-feeble voice commented, now run home. The louder, more serious voice replied angrily that he should run back inside and save the rest.
His body propelled forward in a zigzag fashion, weaving back and forth like a drunkard during Happy hour. His body then turned around towards the mansion and took a step forward where he immediately swung around back to face the imposing trees. Tears leaked from Aidan's eyes, the strain was immense. He staggered one way a few feet only to spin dizzily and trip over to a new direction like some Muggle robot dog on the fritz.
Finally, he collapsed in the cool, damp grass and squealed in anguish. He rolled around in the long blades clutching his head. His feet, obeying the mysterious voice, kicked madly in the air as if running without realizing that Aidan was lying down. The controller, realizing that the plan was not working, put more force into the voice in Aidan's head, commanding furiously that running home was the only option.
Aidan pleaded like a young child to the stars, innocently twinkling above him, "Please, help me. Make him stop. Someone, help me." Aidan began to weep in pain and fear as his feet kicked hard into the empty air. His feet began to propel himself up to a sitting position but Aidan managed to force himself back down. "Make him stop," he wailed. Aidan scratched at his face in agony. In the corner of Aidan's mind, he registered hands grabbing his shoulders and flailing ankles and lifting him off the ground. Aidan didn't really care, the voice felt like it was pounding Aidan's brain to a bloody mess inside his skull. Aidan detected voices from outside his head but he didn't pay attention; it didn't make the pain stop. He was again laid down on a piece of soft earth covering with fresh leaves which he began to scatter with his struggles against his father's command in his head.
After what seemed like hours of torture, the commanding voice faded, leaving Aidan alone in his thoughts. He panted in exhaustion; he wanted to sleep badly but he knew that the Muggle-borns may still be in there. His legs were sore from constantly kicking at nothing and his arms were stiff from pressing them against the trunk of his body. Aidan gathered his bearings, noticing he was in a forest of some kind. The trees blocked out the night sky, making the forest floor very dark and cool. Aidan felt sweat drip down his forehead, his hair sticking to the frame of his face. He heard a rustle of leaves behind him. Aidan's eyes widened. He was in no condition to swat at a fly, much less so hungry beast with a hankering for some sweaty human flesh. To Aidan's great relief, his professor, Remus Lupin's, head came into his line of vision. Aidan gave him a weak smile.
"Are we feeling better?" the professor asked kindly.
"I didn't know you were sick too, Professor," Aidan joked. Someone snorted in distaste. Aidan rolled his eyes around to find the source but he could only see Lupin and the trees. Lupin answered his silent question by saying, "Sirius, he's a young…"
"Malfoy," Sirius Black replied sharply.
"You can not be upset simply because he kicked you," Lupin scolded.
"And bit me! Right on the arm!" Sirius' arm darted into Aidan's eyes. There were tiny teeth marks. The damage looked very slight but Aidan said, "Sorry."
"Oh, Sirius, you'll live," Lupin snapped, rolling his eyes, "he wasn't exactly in control of himself."
"How do we know if he is now?" Sirius asked, sliding his face into view, glaring at Aidan intently.
Lupin sat up, looking back to the field. "I don't know. Flip a coin?"
"I feel better actually," Aidan stammered. "I think I fought it off."
"What, pray tell, were you fighting off?" Sirius growled.
Aidan sighed. "An Imperious curse which commanded me to run."
"Performed by your father, I suspect?" Lupin asked, turning his attention back to the young pureblood. Aidan weakly nodded.
"Well, I'm not surprised, are you?" Sirius asked with a cold smile.
"I am," Aidan blurted angrily. Aidan slowly sat up and leaned against a benign tree. Aidan was thoroughly upset at this development. His father had done the unthinkable. Even the Crucio was just a simple accident, a case of jumpy nerves of mentally ill man. He promised me, Aidan thought, frustrated, he promised me he'd never do anything like that again.
"Where are the rest of the students?" the werewolf asked. Everyone in school knew he was a werewolf; it was included in the Hogwarts letter, explaining that Professor Lupin was no threat to the student body. Aidan heard from older students and former residents of the Manor that there had been an outcry at first but his former students stepped up to defend the old Defense teacher. By the time of Aidan's first year, no one batted an eye at the thought.
"I don't know. We were separated," Aidan explained glumly. Damn, he had planned this all out in advance.
"Then we continue to wait," Lupin sighed sadly. "I'm sorry about what your father did to you. There is a reason why it is an Unforgivable Curse."
The three sat in darkness, their eyes intent on the back door where Harry and Draco had entered hours before. Seeing that the two adults may have some answers, Aidan asked, "Um… did Chloe get home okay?"
Sirius answered gruffly, "Yes, perfectly fine, according to Harry. Why?"
"Sirius," Lupin warned, "Chloe is his friend. Obviously he would care about her safety." Sirius muttered something under his breath about Chloe being his little baby but Aidan couldn't really catch the entire phrase. The minutes passed slowly in silence. Lupin shifted his position near his look-out point, the twilight revealed a slight bulge in his front pocket. "What's that in your pocket, Professor?"
Lupin regarded the young boy in surprise. "What bulge?" Lupin vainly tried to pat it down but it was too late. Once Aidan got interested in something, it was hard to shake him off.
"Don't lie, Professor. That bulge," Aidan explained, pointing to the offending location, "What's in your pocket?"
Lupin raised his eyebrows at Sirius for support. Sirius shrugged back. Lupin took out a small leather sack and shook it. He quickly placed the bag back in its proper location.
"What's in it?"
"A sample of a herb," Lupin explained quickly, hoping to deter Aidan from inquiring further.
"What kind?" Aidan asked. Lupin wearily closed his eyes.
"Does it matter?"
"I want to know, that's all."
"Asphodellia," Lupin replied. Aidan clapped his hands together.
"I know that one. It's often confused with asphodel, used in sleeping potions. That plant causes paralysis rather than drowsiness. I think they're in the same family though," Aidan concluded proudly. He couldn't believe he had remembered all that; Herbology wasn't his best subject.
"Very good memory, Aidan," Lupin commented, adding, "If we were in a class setting, I'd give you points."
"Tough luck, Aidan," Sirius laughed. Aidan ignored him.
"Why do you have it though? It doesn't have any healing properties." Lupin opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wiped the sweat off his hands on his robes, whistling quietly. Aidan frowned. Professor Lupin was just going to ignore him. Sirius Black smiled evilly and threw his hand into the air as if he were in class and whined in his best impersonation of the school-aged Hermione Granger, "Oh! Oh! Professor! I know! I know!"
"Sirius…"
"Call on me, Professor! I know the answer! Pick me!"
"Sirius, no…"
Sirius slammed his palm down beside him and coldly answered Aidan's question in his natural voice, sending shivers down Aidan's spine, "We have it to give to your father if he goes on a killing spree. His legs will lock up within minutes and we'll drag him back to Raveneux. Understand?"
Aidan bowed his head. "Yes, sir."
"Sirius," Lupin replied angrily, "at least show some consideration and tact. He's only fifteen."
"When he bites your arm, let's see how generous you feel then, Remus," Sirius mumbled. Aidan resigned himself to being depressed when a strange thought entered his head.
"Professor?"
"Yes, Aidan?"
"How do you know that I'm okay now? How do you know I'm not just lying?"
Lupin rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We don't. We have to trust you."
"Is there any way to find out?"
"No, unfortunately. There is no way to prove or disprove the statement that one was under an Imperious. Why, Aidan?"
"Well," Aidan began, an outlandish plan coming into focus as he spoke, "how do you know me as I am now isn't the curse talking? How do you know that me rolling around the ground wasn't the real me?"
"So, what?" Sirius suggested, "The Ministry put you under an Imperious to make you a good boy?"
"Well, no," Aidan answered, "but could you prove that they didn't?"
There was a silence within the group. Slowly, Lupin shook his head.
"Why even bother bringing this up? Did your father say this or something?" Sirius demanded.
"No," Aidan replied slowly, the plan crystallizing as he considered his next words, "I simply want to do what my family is famous for."
To be continued…
Author's Notes: The song that the quote above comes from, in my mind, explains Draco and Aidan's relationship perfectly. It inspired the Imperious scene actually because the tune is very soft and swinging, like a lullaby, but the words are sung in an angry tone during some parts of the chorus, like she's debating with herself. Have some fun and play it while you read the Imperious section. Oh, and asphodellia does not exist. I made it up.
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