It was near the end of July and Draco sat in a dark corner of the Headmistress's office, disillusioned and waiting with his eyebrows drawn together, staring at the portrait of Dumbledore as it sucked on a lemon drop. There was light streaming through the windows, but somehow it just managed to make his shadowy corner even darker and more obscure. He could hear the staircase leading up the tower rotating, and voices wafted up to him. He closed his eyes, as a now-familiar pain intruded itself into his chest. Unless he was very mistaken, it would be a long time before he would be returning to this room. He heaved a silent sigh, pushing down the sharpness of loneliness and shoving it away in a corner of his mind.
He was determined to redeem himself, his family, and his family's name, if it took a lifetime. He had glimpses of hope, here and there, in a look, in a kind word from a former adversary, small but significant of acknowledgement by others. It would not do for him to be too hopeful, but he did have some small indications that there was hope, if he had not had those, then he would not have been able to continue on the path that he had started on. Then there were the bigger rays of hope, appearing with a the abruptness of a meteor in the otherwise dark sky of his existence. The growing friendship between himself and Neville, unexpected but undeniably welcome, the growing, but still distrustful, friendliness between himself and Potter. Then, of course, the remarkable transformation of Blaise Zabini and the Greengrass sisters, transformations rivaling his own in unexpected ways. As he began his tentative steps towards changing the Wizarding world permanently, and for the better, he dreaded testing these new relationships with old allies and new friends.
This was the most fragile time, these next three or five years after the Battle. Years when every step was a significant one, where every move he made politically and personally would be monitored and analyzed by the world he lived in, where each step would either make an enemy or win a friend. Days when both winning allies and alienating others would be inevitable, and his life would very likely be in nearly constant danger. He had stepped into his father's shoes far earlier than he had ever anticipated, a world of danger and political intrigue, a world that was perhaps even more dangerous than the one his father had stepped out of. Politics and wealth were a liability even more than they were an advantage. A precarious asset in the aftermath of war. For a moment, the loneliness of his situation swept over him in waves, threatening to steal away his breath.
But he steeled himself through the suffocating solitude, because today, for one more day, he did not have to balance between maintaining his influence and proving his remorse. Today was only about the remorse and proving, not to others, but to himself, that he was truly free from influences of his childhood. Set adrift from darkness that had dominated his upbringing and his entry into adulthood. He would not back down, he would stand firm, and he would sacrifice for the cause that had taken his soul by storm. The Wizarding world would take steps towards acceptance and equality, but very few would ever know that this was the moment when it began to change. He was sacrificing what could have been a great advantage, in order to ensure the completion of his remorse.
As he emerged from his reverie, he realized that he was no longer alone in this room, on the other side of the study a group had gathered around a long ornate table with the Headmistress at one end and the, now permanent, Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, at the other. They were, he realized with admiration, remarkably controlled, never once glancing towards the corner where they knew he sat. These two were the only ones who, by necessity, would know the origin of the considerable number of galleons that were about to be spread out through both the Wizard and Muggle worlds. The three of them, The Minster, The Headmistress, and Draco Malfoy, even the other donors, Zabini and the Greengrass sisters among others, did not have as much knowledge of the funds and their intended purpose.
As the group settled down, sipping tea and eating cakes and sandwiches as they chatted quietly, Draco leaned forward, his head bowed, listening to the meeting begin. He listened and watched as his Quiet Quill took down silent notations on a sheet of silken parchment. Seated at the table Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as well as Luna Lovegood, Oliver Wood and Andromeda Tonks looked at each other. At the sight of his aunt, Draco's heart squeezed painfully. She had seemed to both diminish and grown stronger in the aftermath of the war. There was a brittleness to her now, that he was sure had not always been there, but it was like the brittleness of titanium.
Kingsley Shacklebolt opened the meeting, saying, "This is the preliminary to the first annual meeting of the board of trustees who will be overseeing the funds donated to relief efforts for the second great Wizarding War of Britain. Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and myself will be presiding, as representatives of the president of the board, who wishes to remain anonymous. Are there any questions before we begin?"
Draco smiled, suppressing a slight sneer, as mouths dropped open on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry," said Hermione, "But where are these funds coming from? It was my understanding that the Ministry was nearly impoverished by the war."
Kingsley smiled, "There are a number of private donors, both overseas and here in Britain, who have given extensively to the revitalization of Britain and the compensation of the Muggle world. They wish to remain anonymous, a desire that I have no intention of violating."
"Therefore, my dear girl," said Professor McGonagall, "I am afraid that your insatiable curiosity and genuinely admirable intellect will have to accept defeat in this instance.
Hermione looked very put out, but nodded reluctantly and sat back. Looking at her, Draco could see her brain churning with frustration. While he was pretty sure he should not feel so smug, he could not deny the slight self-satisfaction that he felt at being privy to a secret that remained a mystery to the insatiable curiosity of the entirely too intellectual Gryffindor. He would never understand how it was possible that she had not been selected for Ravenclaw, despite her undeniable bravery. It was the speculative look on Longbottom's and Potter's faces that made him slightly concerned, Hermione's dislike of him had only melted marginally. Harry and Neville were more charitably disposed towards him and might be able to find out his secret. But before he had time to think about it further, the Minister handed rolls of parchment to each of the people at the table.
"Here are contracts that have been carefully drawn up for those who will act as the trustees and directors for a series of charities developed in order to assist both the Wizarding world and the Muggle world in recovering from the Second Great Wizarding War of Britain." The Wizard said. "The Headmistress will give a brief outline of the charities in question and present the key to a vault created to support the charity in question. Following that, we would like each person, or persons, to read through the contracts presented and determine whether or not you would like to accept the trusteeship that is offered to you. The keys are activated by the contract, and will not be useful to you unless you decide to accept the position offered. Headmistress, if you would be so kind…" The Minister bowed to the elderly Witch.
There had always been something regal about the Headmistress, and Draco stared at her in admiration, now unhindered by such petty things as house rivalry, as she spoke. "Firstly, the Evans Memorial Society to Benefit Muggles Affected by the War, which will be headed and Operated by Mr. Arthur Weasley with the assistance of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, supported by a starting sum of 100,000 Galleons. Funds to be reviewed and revised according to need monthly for the first year, and then bi-annually for the next ten years." She handed the keys to a stammering and overly excited Arthur, a miraculously speechless Hermione, and a thoughtful looking Potter. "Please note that each charity has been assigned a consulting goblin to review and oversee the financial interests of the charity and present reports on the state of the vault as needed."
"Secondly, the Cresswell and Tonks Memorial Fund for the Protection and Nurture of Magical Orphans of the War. To be headed by Mrs. Andromeda Tonks and Mrs. Molly Weasley with Augusta Longbottom and Filius Flitwick as an advisors. Supported by a starting sum of 50,000 Galleons." The two women gave each other a watery smile, as they accepted the keys in question.
"Third, The Dobby Memorial Fund for the Protection and Recovery of Non-Human Magical Beings, to be headed by Charlie Weasley and Rubeus Hagrid, assisted by Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Luna Lovegood with special advisors being the house elf Winky and the Centaur Firenze. A beginning fund of 100,000 Galleons." Luna smiled dreamily at Hermione, who looked torn between despair at being partnered with someone so impractical as Luna, and excitement at being able to assist in benefitting the beings that she was most fascinated with. It was with great difficulty that Draco suppressed laughter at the expression on her face.
"Fourth, The Albus Dumbledore Memorial Trust for the Restoration and Improvement of Wizarding Britain, to be headed by Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley, under the advisement of the Minister of Magic and the Headmistress of Hogwarts. A trust in the sum of 200,000 Galleons, is to be used wisely for the benefit and rebuilding of magical society in Great Britain." The two young wizards took the keys with looks of confused awe on their faces.
"Fifth, the Lupin Memorial Fund for Witches and Wizards Recovering from the Effects of the War. To be supported by a sum of 150,000 Galleons, used to cover medical expenses, rebuilding of privately owned houses, restoration of wands broken and lost, and any other expenses accrued as a result of the War. This fund is to be run by myself and my staff, with the advice, help, and input of Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. Additional funds to be added in five years, if needed.
"Finally, the Fred Weasley Memorial Fund for the Improvement of Wizarding Defense and Protection, to be headed by George Weasley, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, with the advisement and assistance of the Auror Department. A sum of 100,000 Galleons if accepted, will be provided to support the cause; with an additional 25,000 Galleons investment into the Dark Forces Defense Division of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."
Draco's mind drifted off contemplatively as the entire wealth of the LeStrange vaults and two of the smaller Malfoy vaults that belonged solely to himself were disposed of brutally, in mass quantities. Along with several extensive sums of money from other families who were also trying to find redemption in the wasted landscape of post-war magical Britain. Some contributors were named personally, he was not. He took note of important questions but the financial details were very well known to him, having arranged them himself. A shadow, one of many that had weighed on him over the past two months, lifted and he felt marginally lighter. He turned his thoughts to another issue that had occupied his mind for some time.
He had visited the Greengrass family with Neville and Harry several times over the past two months, after a special dispensation from the Headmistress. At first he visited as a courtesy to enquire after Astoria's health after being locked in Slytherin alone during the battle and in the days following. Later he continued to request permission to return, finding himself drawn there. When Daphne had told him about her parents plans to arrange a marriage for Astoria, he had been rather startled by the sudden and intense anger that filled him. Following the party that was taking place at Hogwarts tonight, he grimaced remembering the guest list, he would be free to go where he pleased at his own time and he had already set up an appointment with Mr. Greengrass and his lovely wife. If everything played according to his carefully laid plans he would only have to endure his loneliness for two more years.
He started and looked up to see that the room was empty except for Ron Weasley who was standing directly in front of him.
"Come on Malfoy, I know it's you sitting there, disillusioned. Neville and Harry know you were here to, and I'm sure Hermione is aware as well.' The redhead said, with considerably less than his usual hostility.
Draco sighed and cancelled the spell, "Hello Weasley." He said tiredly, "Come to yell at me for listening in."
"Actually, no." Ron said, sighing, "Actually, I wanted to thank you."
Draco looked at him, with a fair amount of scepticism. "Really, for what? Listening in?"
"No, for funding the research to find a cure for obliviation. And, also, for giving the LeStrange money towards recovery from the war." Ron said quietly.
Draco looked up at in him in shock, "How did you figure that out?"
"Not difficult, you were the only suitable heir to their vaults, and since they both died in the war, untried, their estate would go to the last remaining heir, which was bound to be you as they never had children. The amount of galleons left in their vaults must be either negligible or nothing. I'm also guessing it was you that smoothed things over with the Goblins for Harry, we were told that an "anonymous benefactor" returned a long list of various goblin-made items to Gringotts in order to satisfy the debt owed by our break-in."
"Look, I didn't want anyone to know about those things. This wasn't...I didn't do this for my own benefit...not directly. So you can't tell anyone about it at all." Draco said, desperately, rising to his feet and fidgeting nervously with the cuffs of his robe.
Ron held up a hand, "I know. I'm not sure why, but it's evident that you have no intention of profiting from this, and I'm pretty sure it's not because of affection for your aunt." Draco scoffed and Ron grimaced.
"You're right," Draco said, harshly, "She was horrible. But revenge wasn't my motivation either...I can't really explain it, but I did it for myself, but not selfishly, not really."
"Care to try and explain more?" Ron asked.
"I wanted to know, really know, that I'd changed. I can't explain it more." He said, "You won't tell anyone?"
"No. I think I kind of get it. Sometimes in order to know yourself you have to do things that only you know about."
Draco gave him a calculating look, "Yes." He said slowly.
Ron smirked, "People think that because I'm loud and rude I don't notice things, or there's not much to recommend me. I see more than people think I do."
"Interesting." Draco said. "Well, I'd best be off. Must look my best for the party."
Ron laughed as he turned towards the stairs, "You know, Harry and Neville were trying to figure out if they could just skip the whole thing."
"Ah, well, I'm sure that Hermione and your mum put an end to that nonsense."
Ron stared dreamily down the stairs, "It's so nice not to be at the end of a lecture for once. I'll treasure that memory for years."
"It's good that they're having it, though." Draco said, "They could do a lot of good for our world, and showing a united front while providing an opportunity for celebration is a great way to get people thinking positively."
"I know, that's why I made sure mum and Hermione thought it was a great idea." Ron said, laughing evilly.
"You have got to be joking, you did that?" Draco asked, impressed as they began their descent from the tower.
"Well, someone had to and everyone else who might have thought of it was otherwise occupied. Hermione will get a chance to establish some contacts in a positive environment, while pro-muggle-born sentiment is still high. Neville needs to establish some contacts in Herbology, which will be helped along once someone sees the work he's done with the grounds and the greenhouses while Professor Sprout has been recovering. And, as much as he hates it, Harry needs to remind people that he's a hero and someone to be respected and admired, rather than feared. We saw it too many times the past few years, how positive feelings towards a hero can turn to real fear when he is invisible too long. People think he's up to something and negative press makes it easier for people to forget what he's done. He needs to be an auror and he needs the positive press this will provide."
"You know, if I hadn't known you for the past 7 years, I would think that you'd been in Slytherin." Draco said appraisingly as they walked past the gargoyle.
"Too hot headed." Said Ron, tapping his forehead, "But I understand how things should be acted on to gain the right advantage."
"I'm glad I got to see this side of you Weasley, but look, don't tell anyone what you figured out. Unless they already know it for themselves, I guess. I really don't want this to be public knowledge."
"Right." Said Ron, "No worries. And don't tell Harry that the party was really my idea. He will absolutely murder me." Draco laughed.
They parted outside the Great Hall, Draco to go and contemplate the rather surprising conversation he'd just had. And Ron to see to last-minute preparations for the party, that he had absolutely not arranged at all, and to let Hermione yell at him for not being dressed properly until he went to put on his formal robes. She needed to let out some tension, and she was so pretty when she got angry. Hopefully his mum wouldn't see him, because her anger was definitely nothing like entertaining. Endearing, maybe, at times...when it wasn't directed at him.