Chapter 10: Holiday at Malfoy Manor

Before Ron and I could knock, the door of Malfoy Manor swung open, revealing Draco Malfoy standing in an emerald green dressing robe. We walked in silently, and then stood in the large foyer.

Ron nodded. "Malfoy."

Draco returned the nod. "Weasley."

I watched the two men look at each other, and neither seemed to blink for a long time.

Eventually Ron broke the silence. "Ok Malfoy, we're using the second code series. I'll send the first message tomorrow." Ron took a few steps towards the door and stopped, then looked back. "Thank you. We'll be in touch."

He opened the door and walked out, leaving me standing there without a clue. I shook my head. "What a fucking mess."

"That is rather appropriate in this situation."

I looked over to Draco, who was obviously not joking. "So, can you tell me what's going on?"

"Certainly. If you would follow me I'll introduce you to my wife and we'll have a cup of tea. I'll explain everything then."

I took off my coat and threw it over my arm, and then walked in silence with Draco as we made our way through the house. The gloom in the place was oppressing; the halls were dimly lit and a light layer of grime seemed to cover everything. It seemed like it took forever to make it through, but finally we approached a door that was brightly lit from behind, as the light seemed to seep out from around the door frame. Draco opened the door and motioned for me to walk through.

Immediately after walking through the lit doorway the atmosphere of the rooms changed from gloom to something that, despite the grand nature of the Manor, seemed almost cozy. The area was brightly lit, partially from the very large Christmas tree in the corner but also from several wall sconce lamps. A fire roared in the gigantic fireplace, which seemed to take up half of one wall, and warm light covered the wood-paneled walls. No grime existed in these rooms, as the place was incredibly clean and well-appointed with antique furniture and several landscape paintings. As we walked towards the sofa next to the fireplace I realized that we were not alone; a figure lay sleeping on the couch, covered by a large afghan.

Draco walked over and leaned down, and shortly thereafter a woman with long, deep chestnut-colored hair sat up and smiled at me.

"Professor Boyd, I'd like you to meet my wife Astoria. Astoria, Professor Boyd is the guest that I told you might be staying with us."

I went over to the couch and extended my hand. "A pleasure to meet you, and please, call me Hank."

"Very nice to meet you, Hank. Please forgive me if I don't rise to greet you properly. I'm not feeling well this morning. The baby is not behaving on Christmas, I'm afraid. Please have a seat. Draco, would you mind serving the tea?"

"Not at all, Astoria."

I sat down in a chair with an ornate green and gold brocade pattern that was arranged close to the couch and the small table, and received my cup of tea very thankfully. "Congratulations to the both of you. When is the baby due?"

"June." Draco answered, and his tone was one of a very happy father-to-be."

"Your first?" I looked to Astoria, who nodded. It would have been a pleasant conversation, but after a moment my mind flashed to the reason I was there. "I'm sorry to intrude on your home on Christmas. So much has happened that I'm not sure exactly what is going on."

"I'll tell you what I know, Professor, and then I'll show you to your room. I know you must be exhausted." Draco sat down next to his wife on the couch, and she leaned into his shoulder. "Potter contacted me some time ago about possibly assisting the Aurors, specifically regarding use of Malfoy Manor as a safe house. I was very surprised to hear from him, as we were obviously not friends while we were at Hogwarts."

I took a sip of tea and tried not to choke on it. "Not friends" was a massive understatement from the books I'd read and the conversations I'd had with several people.

"Evidently marrying Granger has improved Weasley's brain power, as his plans were surprisingly well done. I do work for the Ministry on occasion but I do not keep company with Weasley or Potter. Even though things have…changed, some wounds are still too deep to fully heal. The WLF would not think that I would help Potter and Weasley, and the reverse is true as well; we don't believe that they would think that Potter and Weasley would ask for my help. You will be staying with us until I receive information that lets us know that the situation has changed for the better. Hopefully that will be soon, but until that time I hope you will be comfortable here."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, I do appreciate it. It is a shock, though."

"Draco, please. And it is a shock that I'm not as you've heard? People and times do change, Professor."

His tone, while pleasant, did not conceal an undertone of disappointment. "No, Draco. I had a, um, discussion with Ron some time after you spoke for me in front of the Wizangamot. We agreed to disagree. I'm still in shock over what's happened in the last twenty-four hours. I'm sorry if I'm all over the place right now. One of my students was attacked and her parents were killed, my fiancée and I are now her temporary legal guardians, another of my students was attacked but no one was hurt, and now I've had to say goodbye to my family and everyone and now I've ended up at your house on Christmas morning. Oh, and I can't write my fiancée while I'm here."

"I understand, and I apologize for not taking all of the day's events into account. Thank you for not believing what they say, although some of it, unfortunately, is true. That's best left for another time. Before I show you to your room I should tell you some things about this house. As you can tell, we are currently in the new portion of the house. Astoria and I added this wing not too long ago, as the rest of the house is, well, you saw it for yourself. Not very pleasant. Part of my mother's will was that I was not to change anything in the house, so we have left it just as it was when she was alive. There are several rooms that are locked, and for good reason. I won't say anymore on that subject except that if you find a locked door, please leave it alone. You know about the Hogwarts ghosts, obviously, but I should warn you that Malfoy Manor also has a ghost. If you see a man with long hair walking in the old part of the house, just ignore him. It's my father's ghost, and no matter what we've tried he simply will not leave. As your room is in the new wing you shouldn't encounter him, but as I said, if you do just ignore him. I hope you will feel comfortable here; my library is available for you at any time. There is a project that I'm working on that I think will interest you, but we can save that for later."

"Draco, I think you've gone over everything. I'm sure Hank would like to rest." Astoria looked over to me and gave me a sympathetic smile. "I've prepared a fairly strong sleeping draught for you; it's the purple vial on the nightstand. Blink, our house elf, will be available if you need anything."

I sat my teacup on the table. They were right, I was exhausted, in more ways that one. "Astoria, Draco, thank you for your kindness. I'm sorry I messed up Christmas for you."

Draco stood up. "You did no such thing. Astoria and I have been up for hours. Morning sickness, you know. If you'll follow me we'll go to your room and you can settle in."

When I woke up the room was dark except for a very small lamp which glowed faintly in the corner. The sleeping draught had definitely done its job, as I did not remember dreaming at all. I swung my feet off of the bed and made my way to the small desk where I had left my glasses. I sat down and took in my surroundings; even in the dim light I could tell that the room exuded a calm warmth so different than the older part of the Manor. Cream colored walls contrasted with the deep grey curtains and other furnishings, especially the intricately carved wooden four-poster bed. As prisons go it was definitely better than could have been expected. I checked my thoughts; this wasn't my prison, it was my refuge, and I needed to be grateful.

My realignment of attitude was cut short by my rumbling stomach, and I realized that I hadn't eaten anything in ages. What was that house elf's name again?

"Excuse me, Blink?"

With a deep-sounding crack an old, gnarled house elf appeared in my room.

"How may Blink serve you, Professor?"

Blink was very different from Nonky; his voice was deeper, his face was covered with wrinkles and his ears were much longer. One ear seemed to stand at attention while the other drooped to the side. Surprisingly he stood in front of me wearing an ancient green sweater-vest with the Slytherin crest.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Blink. Astoria and Draco told me to call for you if I needed anything, and…well, I am hungry. Anything would be wonderful."

"Master Malfoy has requested your presence in the library. I will bring you something in there. Follow me, please, and I will show you the way."

I walked behind the house elf as we made our way down the stairs to the large library. As I walked into the warmly lit room Draco looked up from a desk that was piled with books.

"Hank, I hope you slept well?"

"Very well, thank you."

Draco looked over to the house elf. "Thank you, Blink. If you'll bring everything we will eat in here tonight."

After the house elf bowed and left I looked over to Draco. "Was he wearing a Slytherin vest?"

Draco nodded. "After the house elf legislation some years ago we formally released Blink from his service and hired him as a servant. Astoria gave him one of my old jumpers from Hogwarts."

"Interesting." I sat down on one of the leather sofas in the library and looked around at the walls; every wall was a bookshelf, there were no open spaces except for doors. "I have to say, this is a very impressive library."

"Thank you. I admit that unfortunately my father's interests have been invaluable, but assuredly not for the reasons he would have liked. I mentioned earlier that I have a project that will interest you, and I believe there is no time like the present. I'm researching certain property laws and acquisitions for the Ministry, specifically transactions involving Charles Flurbin. I understand that your Muggle Studies class has also covered land redistribution during the time of the Muggle war. Perhaps we shall gain some additional insight into the clues we've been given."

"I hope so. I'm supposed to meet with him in seven days."

"Then we have very little time. Ah, thank you, Blink."

I looked over to the doorway, and watched Blink walk forward balancing a tray in each hand. The house elf placed a tray on the desk in front of Draco, hesitated for a moment, and then placed the second tray on a low table next to a shelf. Without saying a word he bowed to both Draco and I, and before we could even thank him he apparated away.

"Not the most charming conversationalist, but he has come quite a long way. I do hope you don't mind if we work while we eat, Professor?"

"Not at all, Draco. And please, just call me Hank. Is Astoria joining us?"

"No, she is still feeling ill and has retired. Now let's get to it. I don't like cold tomato soup very much."

After finishing our warm and hearty meal I was slightly depressed. It was Christmas evening, and my parents were probably already at home while Melody and Lavinia were at Grimmauld Place. I must have been very quiet, because finally Draco rose from his desk and walked over to a chair next to the table where I had been eating.

"I know this must be difficult for you, but I want you to know that we are doing everything possible to resolve the situation. The Ministry has made your safety, and that of your family, one of their top priorities." He took his wand from a pocket and waved it towards a cabinet, and a bottle and two glasses arrived at the table. "It's a good mead, I believe it has aged well and we could both do with a glass."

After pouring out the mead he looked at me for a moment before saying anything, and I felt slightly uncomfortable, as if I was being examined. "I am sure that you know somewhat of my past. With that knowledge, you also must realize how much Weasley loathed asking for my assistance. I admit, I was not very anxious to deal with him, but the Minister's correspondence indicated the importance of the issue."

I took a sip of the mead and nodded, and Draco was right; the mead tasted wonderful, like the best wine I'd ever had but containing characteristics that I couldn't place. Before I could say anything he took a deep breath. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to talk about and I didn't want to interrupt.

"What you have read and heard is, on the whole, accurate. My family has played a shameful part in the history of the Wizarding world, and I do not exclude myself from that history. One of the reasons I believe Muggle Studies is important is from my own experience. I grew up believing that those who were not of 'pureblood' status were inferior; that belief was reinforced at every possible moment. That belief guided my actions and colored my views; leading me to choices that were…incorrect. It was only after…"

He hesitated and looked away, and I wanted to step in and say something, but I couldn't. I knew about his involvement at Dumbledore's death and at the end of Voldemort, but I didn't know what to say. I drank more mead and simply waited. Eventually he turned back and looked at me.

"After everything that happened at the end of the war, I began to realize how wrong I had been. Almost everything I believed was incorrect. But times and people do change, something Weasley hasn't fully come to grasp. Potter and I have come to an understanding; we can't exactly forget, but we do forgive up to a point. I am not the same person that I was when I was seventeen, and I daresay that it is the same for everyone, but not to my extent."

He was right, of course. I was definitely not the same person I was at seventeen; time changes things. "Draco, people change. We can't control how people view us, we can only be the person we are or are trying to be. I learned that one the hard way as well." I thought about Janine for the first time in months, and remembered how I tried to be the person I thought she wanted me to be instead of who I actually am. Then I thought about how Melody accepted me for who I am, which made me remember that I was in exile at Malfoy Manor. "So this project of yours, and mine, I guess, let's get to it."

We spent the rest of the evening going through property transaction records; Draco researched recent transactions and I concentrated on documentation that detailed the events before and during World War 2. As I had read in Muggles Among Us, that ancient textbook, there were a lot of documents regarding wizarding property being abandoned due to Muggle wartime land use, usually with a promise of compensation from the Ministry of Magic. Most of the documents were fairly straightforward, but one thing that kept coming up over and over was a name, Yadnow. I found some stray parchment and began writing down all of the individual transactions that involved the Yadnow family, specifically Pernilla Yadnow. After going through the books a second time and verifying my research, I realized that whoever Pernilla Yadnow was, she had lost a lot of land, especially around a Wizarding village known as Flatcook.

After gathering my findings I walked over to Draco's desk, which was covered in parchment. After clearing my throat Draco finally broke his concentration and looked up to me expectantly.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Maybe. What do you know about a Wizarding village called Flatcook?" I could tell from Draco's expression that he'd never heard of it. "Ok, what about a woman named Pernilla Yadnow?" He shook his head, and I sat down on a large stack of books next to the desk. "Crap."

"I don't know about that location, Hank, but I can tell you that your Headmaster has been a very busy person. In the last six months he has acquired several large pieces of property, and some smaller parcels, all of them at prices at a large variance with their current value. He's obtained them all at a very steep bargain, and he's sold some of them for a large profit. All of his land seems to be right on the edge of Muggle property. There is one name that did stand out, though. Flurbin sold a small parcel of land at a price that was almost a gift to someone you're acquainted with…does the name Postle ring a bell?"

Postle, Postle…it sounded familiar but I couldn't place it. "Sort of, but I can't remember. Should I?"

"Interesting that you can't remember, Hank. Postle was the member of the Wizangamot who wanted you obliviated."

Shit. That idiot was back? "What the hell, Draco?"

"I am not sure, but I believe there's a connection somewhere that we are missing. Unfortunately, I can think of one person who might know the details, but it won't be a pleasant conversation." Draco stood up from the desk. "We need to go talk to my father."

The light from Draco's wand bobbed as we walked through the almost pitch black hallways of the old part of Malfoy Manor, and I did my best to not feel as if I was walking in a Halloween haunted house. As we walked further into the manor I realized that I actually was in a haunted house, as we were on our way to speak with a ghost, specifically the ghost of Lucius Malfoy. The only sounds were our footsteps and the occasional scurry of something I figured was best left unseen for everybody's sake, but eventually we stopped in the middle of the hallway.

Draco turned to me, and the light from his wand reminded me of campfire ghost stories, the ones where the storyteller put the flashlight under their face to try and achieve a spooky effect. Unfortunately, for me, this time it wasn't a Boy Scout camping trip, it was utterly real.

"I will do most of the talking. Try to limit your questions, as he doesn't know you and we can't risk too many questions. Do you have your wand?"

"Uh, sure." I took it out of my pocket and held it loosely in my hand. "I can't do anything with it, really. Why do I need it?"

"Father won't question if you're a wizard or not if he can see your wand." Draco took a deep breath. "I should warn you, though; his disposition has not improved since his death. I doubt he will be happy to see us. At the end of the hall is his study, and it is usually where he stays. It is his sanctum sanctorum, his place of power, so he will feel in his element there. Try to ignore most of what he says, as it will be filled with his usual hateful invective. What I am hoping is that, perhaps without knowing it, he may tell us something that will help us. My last defense is to come right out and ask him point blank, but that is only after exhausting all other options. He may not help us at all, but that is a chance I am willing to take. Ready, then?"

Before we started again Draco waved his wand at me, but to be honest I was really too nervous to even notice. Instead I just followed the bobbing wand.

If Draco's speech had been meant to bolster my spirits it had failed miserably, as I was as nervous as possible without vomiting. I followed him to the end of the hallway, and at a cobweb strewn large door with an ornately carved silver handle Draco took a deep breath and opened the door. As Draco waved his wand the lights glowed faintly, as if someone had thrown a sheet over a lamp, but it was enough for me to take in Lucius' study. A large desk dominated the room, and above the desk was a dusty portrait of a severe-looking wizard. Bookcases filled an entire wall, but most of the shelves were empty save for a few books haphazardly placed. Everything was covered with dust, and I found myself having a hard time breathing. The combination of my nervous breathing and the dust made me cough, then sneeze, and after opening my eyes from a series of sneezes I looked over to Draco. He had ignored my physical issues and was concentrating on one of the bookshelves. I watched an amorphous silver mist swirl, and then finally take the form of a man in a long coat with boots, his hair flowing over his shoulders, and in one hand he held a cane. He walked, though it seemed like gliding, over to a position several feet in front of Draco and me, and I noticed that his feet did not touch the ground.

"Draco. Why have you come to my study? Do you have good news? Is Harry Potter dead and the Ministry engulfed in flames?"

Draco closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them to look at his father's ghost. "Hello father. Neither has happened. I've come to ask your assistance."

"My assistance? You, who betrayed me, ask my assistance?" Lucius moved close to Draco, almost touching his face. "Why would I assist you in anything?"

"I am continuing one of your projects, father. I am trying to regain the Malfoy land the Ministry took from us during the Muggle war." Draco paused, and the silence hung as thickly as the massive velvet curtains that blanketed the windows of the study. "So I can provide for your grandchild."

"Grandchild?" Lucius picked up his cane and tapped it evenly into his empty hand. "So you and your traitorous wife have conceived? Congratulations."

Lucius' words held no warmth, as his tone was one of contempt. I shifted my weight uneasily and rolled my wand in my hand and hoped that he would ignore me altogether. As usual, I was wrong.

"And, my son, who is…this? Judging by his appearance I take it you have hired an assistant for your research." He sniffed dismissively.

"Yes, father, this is Mr. Boyd. He is working on the research with me. We have just been reading and have a few questions for you."

Lucius glided over to me, inches away from my face. "I do not know the Boyd family. I can see by your wand that you are a wizard. Who are your people?"

I swallowed hard and barely managed to say "MacDonald. Distant relative of Dent-Head." I felt as if I had been shocked with a cattle prod as my voice had sounded completely different; instead of my normal American accent I sounded as if I was born and bred in Scotland.

Lucius snorted dismissively. "Scottish wizards do nothing but drunkenly fight while wearing skirts. I'm amazed you are sober enough to stand."

Normally I would have been offended, but it was all I could do to not bolt for the new part of the house. Lucius was nothing like the Hogwarts ghosts; they were genial spirits, but Lucius was something altogether different. The word that kept coming into my head over and over was malevolent.

"Father, can you tell us about the Malfoy land that was taken? I believe I have the land identified, but the records show that the land was owned by Priscilla Yadnow." Draco's gaze did not waver from his father as he tried to steer the conversation to our goal.

"You had such promise, Draco, but now I see you have regressed. The Yadnow properties are nowhere near the Malfoy holdings. She and that horrible daughter of hers once approached me about joining them in a petition to the Wizangamot. I would not allow it. The Malfoys do not collaborate with the lesser classes." He then looked directly at me. "But I see that you obviously did not learn that fact."

"What can you tell us of the Yadnow family?" Draco quickly looked at me and then back to his father. "Anything might be of use."

"Draco, Draco, Draco." Lucius shook his head solemnly. "Why such an interest in the Yadnows? You are not telling me everything, are you?"

Draco sighed, and his shoulders slumped. His tone was defeated when he replied "You're right, father. I'm not telling you everything. I'm hoping that the Yadnow family has no living heir, so that I may claim their lands as ours. I am trying to secure the future for my child."

A feint within a feint. Draco was truly a Slytherin, and it finally hit me how being a Slytherin was not all bad. "The records show that Priscilla Yadnow never had any children. You said she had a daughter, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius slowly turned his head to look at me, and I instantly regretted saying anything. The spectral form of Lucius focused on me for several seconds before turning back to Draco.

"Please instruct your servant to not address me unless spoken to. As for your plan, there may be some hope for you yet, but I require something from you as a token of true intent."

Draco's shoulders stiffened slightly, and I realized that this was something he had not considered.

"What do you request?"

"If your child is a boy, a true Malfoy heir as is to be expected, you will name him Scorpius after my great-uncle. If you promise me this I will help you. Swear it! Swear it upon the life of your unborn child!"

Draco nodded slowly. "I swear it. If my child is a boy his name will be Scorpius."

A large smile broke out upon Lucius' face. "Your ill-bred highland assistant is correct, surprisingly. Priscilla Yadnow never had any children. Natural children. Her daughter was adopted, and she married a wizard only slightly better than a squib named Postle. They came to the manor, hat in hand, asking for help. We turned them away without a word. I've kept my promise, now I expect you to keep your part of the agreement. Draco."

I watched Draco nod, then he motioned towards the door. "I will. Thank you, father, you've been most helpful."

The ghost of Lucius Malfoy turned and walked towards the desk, his form losing shape until the silvery vapor seemed to vanish into the wall. I took that as a cue and walked to the door and held it open, and after Draco and I had exited the room and made it down the hallway I finally began to breathe normally.

"I apologize for not telling you beforehand. Let me fix your voice." Draco waved his wand slightly, and I expected something to happen, a slight twinge in my throat, but didn't feel anything.

"Thanks. How did you do that?" I laughed nervously, as my voice had returned to normal.

Draco laughed, and it was an honest, surprised and true laugh. "Magic."

When we arrived back in the library, though, Draco's mood was considerably darker. He sat at his desk and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I hope the baby is a girl. I'll have to tell Astoria, and I don't know how she'll take it."

I looked over from the sofa and put the property records on an empty cushion. "Are you really going to name the baby Scorpius if it's a boy?"

"I made a promise to my father. I'm not going to break it. Hopefully it will be worth it, though, as we now have a link from Priscilla Yadnow to the Postle family. That doesn't explain why Flurbin is purchasing large amounts of land at very low prices, however. It does give us someplace to start." He took out a large folder of parchment and sat it on the end of his desk. "These are the records for all of the parcels of land purchased by Flurbin recently; cross-reference those with the Yadnow land holdings that were surrendered during the Muggle war. If they are similar, we might have something to go on."

For the next few hours I felt like I was back in college working on a project that was due the next day. Blink brought down a very strong pot of coffee, and the silence was only broken by the turning of parchment pages and the clink of cup and saucer. Eventually my research was complete, and Draco's intuition was correct; all of the land purchases made by Flurbin were adjacent or close to former Yadnow land holdings. On several occasions the land was the actual parcel previously owned by the Yadnows, as possession had changed from Wizard to Muggle to Muggle and eventually back through convoluted means to Wizard. After I informed Draco of my findings I expected him to be happy, but instead he was frustrated.

"If Postle wanted the land he could have bought it, but his family, as I know it now, is quite poor. He retains his seat on the Wizangamot only through hereditary means. Flurbin, although he worked in the Ministry for years, doesn't have the money to make those kinds of purchases, which means that someone is funding this. But why? He's sold most of the land he's purchased except for a small piece. What does he get out of this?

I took off my glasses and threw them carelessly on the table in front of the sofa. "I don't know, Draco. All I know is that somebody attacked my students and I'm here at your house on Christmas Day." I looked at my watch and laughed sarcastically. "Ok, Boxing Day. All this research shit is well and good but it doesn't change the fact that someone out there wants to kill people, most of all me. Tell me how that connects and we've got something."

Draco's eyes widened. "Merlin's beard. How could I have missed it? Quick, Hank, how did the WLF or whoever it was know who was in your Muggle Club? Before you say anything Potter briefed me, I know some details, so you're not betraying any confidences. How did they know?"

"The Muggle Club roster."

"Exactly. Who has access to that documentation? The Headmaster of Hogwarts. Flurbin sold one small piece of land to Postle, right near that village you mentioned."

"Flatcook."

"Right. I believe if you look you'll find that piece of land was once owned by Priscilla Yadnow. We know that there's a leak in the Ministry and at Hogwarts. I think we've found them. Now if we only knew why."

At this point I was tired, my brain was swimming and I was tired of playing detective. "Damn it, Draco, you're telling me that my Headmaster is trying to kill me? Fuck, I've got a meeting with him soon, and now I have to walk in there and be all professional while you're playing Sam Spade?"

"Sam…"

"Muggle thing. Son of a bitch, why does everybody want to mess with me? Postle wants me obliviated, Flurbin wants to either fire me or kill me, hell, maybe he'll fire me then kill me. I don't know. I'm supposed to get married soon and George tells me we can't have it at Forthingsgate. Shit, we might even have to postpone it. Somebody better figure this shit out soon or I'm going to lose it."

Draco leaned back in his chair and looked at me for a long time. "You're right. Why you? What have you done to cause such a problem? Why was Postle so adamant that you be obliviated?"

"I dunno, Draco. I'm mostly Muggle?"

He pointed a finger at me and smiled. "Precisely. Not only a Muggle, but Professor Muggle who teaches at Hogwarts. The author of a book on how Muggles and the Wizarding world can successfully integrate."

"But I'm one point three percent wizard!"

Draco smiled and shook his head. "For all intents and purposes, you are a Muggle. Technically you're a wizard, but the WLF and anti-Muggle groups don't see it that way. As for Postle, it is almost too easy and convenient of an excuse; Muggles and their war took away his family's land. It seems too obvious, but sometimes the simplest answer is the correct answer. That is hard for a Slytherin to accept, you know."

Holy crap, Draco was almost giddy. What had I said? "Draco, are you feeling ok?"

"I am feeling quite fine. I think I will accompany you to Hogwarts for your meeting with Flurbin. It should be very, how should I say it, illuminating. Until then, though, I believe it best if we try to get some sleep. I need to check on Astoria, and I'm sure you could do with another good night's sleep. Or what's left of it, that is."

I woke up later that morning to find a note on my bedside table. After reading it through a second time I sat back and rested my head against the cool wood of the headboard. So much for continuing the research, the only thing to keep my mind off of Melody and Lavinia, as Draco's note said that he and Astoria would be out of the house for the next few days. It was something that had come up quite suddenly, and he needed Astoria for whatever it was, so the long and short of it was that I was stuck in Malfoy Manor by myself for the next five days. Well, not truly alone, as there was an old and irritable house elf and a fucked up ghost in residence as well.

For the longest damn five days of my life I did nothing but eat, read and sleep. Blink quickly proved that as a conversationalist he was about five hundred ways worse than Nonky, and I did as much research as I could, but eventually ran out of things to review. In the end I scoured the library, looking for something to read that would take my mind off of things or at least keep me occupied. The only thing that actually kept my interest for any length of time, and was large enough to take a while to read was a history of the goblin wars. On the morning of the fifth day, December thirtieth, I had my tea and breakfast and finished the last fifty pages. If anybody ever asks what the best form of torture is, I'm going to hand them that book.

I decided to actually get dressed, as I was expecting to leave sometime during the day. For the last few days I had just stayed in a set of Draco's pajamas that Astoria had been kind enough to drop by when I had arrived.

"Blink? Can you come here please?"

The ancient house-elf arrived, as usual, with an irritated look. "Yes, Professor Boyd?"

"Can I have my clothes back now? The ones you took to clean?"

"No, dirty awful clothes, not proper for Malfoy Manor. Blink destroyed those. Nasty clothes."

I stood there with my mouth open for a while, and then laughed. "You destroyed them? Wonderful. Now what the hell am I going to wear?'

The house elf walked slowly towards the wardrobe and opened a door. "Some of Master Malfoy's clothing. I will adjust it after you've dressed."

A few minutes later I stood in front of Blink wearing black moleskin trousers, a dark grey shirt, a black velvet jacket and smooth black leather boots that tied with enchanted laces, but pinched my toes as they were too small. One melodramatic house elf expression later everything fit perfectly, but I felt as if I was an extra in some art house movie.

"Thanks, Blink. Next time you might want to ask guests if they would like their clothing cleaned or destroyed."

I didn't expect a response and I wasn't disappointed. Blink apparated away, and after looking at myself in the mirror for the third time I made my way back down to the library. Instead of an empty room, though, Draco sat on the edge of his desk talking to Harry Potter.

"Shit! Don't surprise me like that!" I walked over to the two wizards. "Why didn't you tell me you were back?"

Draco looked at me, puzzled. "Are those my clothes?"

"Yeah. Your house elf destroyed mine, said they weren't proper or some shit. Harry, I take it since you're here something's up?"

Harry nodded. "We think things are a bit safer now. We're going to Grimmauld."