Chapter 7: Owls in the Night

Draco moved swiftly down the long hallway, towards his father's ancient study. At the door, he paused. He could hear mutterings behind it, even without straining. The tones of his father, the dignified hiss of his mother. Draco moved away from the door again, walking back down the hall. His question could wait. He paused at a portrait on the wall of a young Narcissa and Lucius, their dignified looks appeared to be cold and reserved. Narcissa' mouth twitched up slightly at his gaze, an approving look appearing as she looked at her son.

"Is this what you thought it would be," Draco asked. "When you fought in the first wars. Is this what you saw?"

"We must always work for a better tomorrow," Portrait Lucius said. He was young and idealistic, just as he must have been when he first joined Lord Voldemort. Just like they all must have been.

"It is of the utmost importance we keep face and follow tradition," Narcissa agreed. "Without it, we will cease to exist."

"That's what the mudbloods want," Lucius agreed. The portrait Narcissa reached up and put her hand on Lucius'.

Draco walked down the hall, following a path he had forgotten in all but his dreams and muscles. He rounded a third corner and pushed open a door. The wall had a family tree, some singe marks for those who were disowned. He saw his own face blinking back at him, then found Regulus Black. Young and wide eyed- perhaps he was projecting, but he seemed as unsure as Draco did. He looked back at his face and it was growing, slowly larger and larger, taking over the tree until there was nothing but his own pale features staring at him.

With a gasp he woke up and blinked in the dusty dungeon lighting. He was in Professor Snape's old office, the dust making him sneeze suddenly. Why had he come here? What was he doing? He recalled coming back from the trial and wandering here, not ready to go back to the Slytherin commonroom. He had come here and stared at the spidery writing on the last potion vials and chalkboard. He had simply sat here and closed his eyes, trying to communicate with the dead that he had been put on probation, that he was thankful for Professor Snape's sacrifice. Had Severus, like his father, been optimistic about his loyalties at one point, or had he joined the deatheaters to belong somewhere? Draco felt guilty for thinking such a thought as soon as he did. He stretched, feeling the soreness and pain that comes from sleeping on a desk for a night.

He stood and moved out of the room into the entrance hall, but stopped in his tracks at what he saw. Hermione Granger was standing at a table with a poster in giant letters "Support S.P.E.W. Thank the House Elves for their fight." Granger's eyes met his and he saw her prepare herself, eyes turning steely with determination. He thought she'd perhaps let him pass ignored, but she didn't. Instead she thrust out a button.

"Support S.P.E.W.?"

"I- you still run S.P.E.W?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "It's more important now than ever. The house elves took great risk to help out during the final battle and they ought to be honored."

"How?"

Granger looked surprised. She obviously had not gotten this far with anyone else. Draco couldn't help but smirk to see the clever girl look as close to baffled as he was sure she ever would.

"Why, by treating them to something- anything."

"Not clothes, I hope."

"No," Granger said sternly. "No, of course not. Unless they want to be free."

A third year from Hufflepuff hurried passed as Granger called "Support S.P.E.W?"

The boy made a sound of annoyance.

Draco reached out and grabbed the back of his robes, almost making the boy fall backwards.

"What the he-" he stopped seeing that is was Draco Malfoy who was looking down at him.

"Malfoy," Granger began, her voice shrill with surprise.

"The lady asked you a question," Draco drawled. "It would be impolite to ignore her."

"I'm late to Potions," snapped the third year, though he did not look as brave as he sounded.

"Do you want to support S.P.E.W. and the house elves who fought in the final battle or not?"

The Hufflepuff looked as if the floor had dropped from beneath his feet. Draco mused if the point of confusion was the fact that Draco Malfoy was asking him to support Granger's cause or the fact that it was a cause at all (especially with a name like spew).

"The longer you stall the later you are," Draco drawled.

"Malfoy," Granger hissed. He glanced at her. "Stop it. Let him go!"

Draco followed the instructions given and the third year scampered off.

"That's not how I do it," Granger said. Draco looked at her.

"He didn't listen, Granger. You have to make them hear you."

Granger looked him over as if deciding what that meant, but decided to let the comment pass.

"Well, here," Draco said in a peace offering. He put the two sickles on the table for the badge. "I don't think it'll help you much if I wear it," Draco added pinning it on. Granger looked even more baffled than she had before.

"Malfoy, are you pulling my leg," she asked slowly.

"That's a vulgar saying, Granger," Draco drawled back. "I assume Weasley taught you that."

Then he turned and went to breakfast.

He didn't see Luna until dinner, which Draco tried not to be annoyed with. He had just been cleared of war crimes and she hadn't popped up at all. He thought she'd care a bit more. He tried not to let his annoyance come through when she sat down at the Slytherin table, pulling her legs under the table and beginning to put food on a plate as if it were the Ravenclaw table. He spoke first.

"Got back from my trial."

"I heard you had," she said dreamily turning to look at him, her blonde hair just missing her pumpkin juice. "I'm glad it worked out. I knew it would."

"That's why you didn't find me after?"

She looked surprised. Almost as surprised as he was sure he appeared as Granger and Ginny Weasley sat down at the Slytherin table across from him and Luna. They both ignored the whispers of the surrounding Slytherins, even though Weasley's ears burned red. Luna acted as if their conversation hadn't changed at all.

"I did find you, but you were asleep in Professor Snape's office, so I thought it best to leave you alone."

Draco felt guilt replace his annoyance. Of course she had found him.

"Oh," he said simply. He was silent for a few moments in which he could sense Ginny Weasley's smirk.

"And what are you doing here," he asked evenly looking at her. Her smirk remained, though her eyes narrowed making her look more frightening than she ought to.

"I told Luna and Ginny about this morning," Granger explained. "About the S.P.E.W. business," she added to clarify. She was cutting her chicken breast and ignoring the whispers next to her.

"I thought you said that't not how you do it," Draco said suspiciously. He heard a hiss behind him and caught the phrase "mudblood." From Granger's slight blush he knew she had heard it too. He whipped around to see that it was the same three idiots he had glued to their seats for talking about stealing Luna's shoes.

"Do you mind," he snarled. "Be good little children and be seen instead of heard."

They hurriedly scooted away from Draco as if he had taken his wand to their throat.

"Quite the impression you're making, Malfoy," Weasley said. "Did you flash them your dark mark?"

"Ginny," scolded Granger. Luna said nothing, watching Draco carefully.

"That's not how I do things," Draco replied. Then he glanced at her with his best intimidating look. "Real intimidation doesn't need flashy tattoos."

"Especially ones that are useless scars," Weasley shot back. "But you've always been good at being a bully."

"That's enough," Granger said firmly. Weasley looked from Granger to Draco to Luna. She threw down her fork and knife with a clatter and stood, almost stomping from the Great hall.

"Red hair and tempers," Draco observed.

"She's grieving still," Luna said solemnly. "They all are. We all are." She looked up at Draco knowingly."You are."

"Maybe it was just too soon," Granger said sadly. She began to stand, but Luna put her hand on Granger's wrist, still looking at Draco.

"She always goes to the Astronomy tower. It's the fresh air, I think. She's never really liked closed areas or stifled air. At least not after the Chamber."

Draco knew what she was doing. Luna wanted him to go after Weasley and apologize. Not just for the last year but for everything- all the years of animosity between their families. As if Weasley would take his apology. Why should he have to apologize for things he wasn't responsible for? Did she expect him to do a complete one eighty in a day? He sighed and stood.

"Please don't let me food disappear," he drawled. Then he walked from the Great Hall with the type of Malfoy grace that was expected of him.

Weasley was right where Luna had told him. She was leaning on the tower wall, eyes closed as a breeze blew passed her red hair. Draco stood back. If he had wanted, he could read her mind, though he had always been better at blocking out others than he was at invading their heads. Aunt Bellatrix had said he didn't have the disposition for it. He remembered that she had sounded disappointed.

"I'm trying to be alone, Malfoy," Weasley said without opening her eyes. He was silent.

"I told you to leave Luna out of it,"she said finally.

"Luna's not very good at listening to my instructions, even when they are as simple as stay away," He replied. She looked over her shoulder at him, he could see red around her eyes from the distance.

"Weasley, this is difficult for me. I'm going against all of my upbringing and pride, but," he paused. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about last year and I'm sorry about my father's behavior towards your family."

"That seemed painful," Weasley replied.

"It was very painful."

"Harry said you were at the funeral. Luna says you apologized to his grave."

"I wish those two would stop telling people that."

"You ought to just explain it. I also know you hexed those girls who always pick on Luna."

"Not sure what you mean."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

He closed his mouth.

"I don't know," she said finally. "I trust Harry and I trust Hermione and I trust Luna, but, I don't trust you, Malfoy. So what am I to do if they all say you are changing? I can't believe it, but then you scare some kids off for calling Hermione that horrible name. Which you use to call her all the time."

He waited as she sighed, he was getting more and more uncomfortable. Apparently every house was better at discussing emotions than he and the Slytherins were. It was extremely unpleasant to be a part of.

"I'm sorry for the diary as well," Draco said. Weasley stared at him fully surprised for the first time. "I didn't know what it was and I definitely didn't know what my Father was doing with it. But, I was twelve and a git."

An owl fluttered onto the side of the astronomy tower, hooting officially. It wasn't a ministry owl, just a random post owl that could be found at any public place. Weasley took the letter from its beak and glanced at Draco.

"It's for you," she said. Draco took the letter. It had no return name, simply said To: Draco Malfoy.

He opened it carefully to find scrawled writing from a heavy hand, as if a brute had written in a hurry.

Justice comes to all blood traitors and deserters even if the muggle-loving court says otherwise. We are coming.

"What an ominous threat," Weasley said.

Draco glanced up to see she was reading over his shoulder, close enough for Draco to smell her shampoo. He tucked the letter into her robes.

"I'd like to finish dinner, now, Weasley."

"I suppose I can respect the wishes of a dead man walking," she said. Draco glared at her. She was clearly far too pleased with the threatening letter.