Chapter 11: Incommunicado (Draco)
Malfoy Manor at Christmas was always a sight to behold. The immediate grounds around the manor were as green and warm as any spring day- Narcissa didn't like the snow inhibiting the peacocks from strolling round the expansive front garden- and every single one of the twenty-seven front windows had an everlasting single white pillar candle in it, including the large picture window above the double front doors, through which could be seen the golden fifty-candle chandelier and the towering fir that was covered in only white and green fairies and decorated with the same colored ribbons and bows, which was truly magnificent.
So when Draco arrived home at dusk and there was knee-high snow everywhere and the only light that could be seen was a faint flickering one in the last window of the west wing he knew to be his parents', he knew something was wrong. Quickly tapping the black wrought-iron gate with his wand he sprinted through the powdery snow, struggling through the drifts that were clear up to his waist as he dragged his trunk behind him. Crashing through the front doors, he dropped his trunk with a loud bang that echoed in the massive entryway. He only faintly registered the utter lack of tree as he slipped and slid as quickly as he could toward the west wing stairs. Finally making it to the carpeted steps he thundered up the three flights and down the lengthy hallway to their door where he could see the faint light battling the darkness from under it.
"Father? Mother?" he called. He reached out to turn the knob when it was suddenly jerked open and a sobbing Narcissa fell into his arms.
"Oh, Draco!" she cried into his shoulder.
"Mother, what is it? What's going on?" he glanced into the room and saw that no one else was there except a house elf cowering at the foot of the bed. "You, go get a Calming Potion," he ordered and waited for the resulting pop before turning back to his mother and guiding her to the chairs in front of the pitiful fire before asking, "Where is Father?"
The house elf appeared at Narcissa's elbow holding a crystal bottle filled with blue potion and a small crystal tumbler on a silver tray. Draco stood and filled the glass to the brim and handed it to her before turning to the fireplace and waving his wand to cause the fire to roar to life. He closed his eyes for a second, letting the warmth wash over him and chase the chills away that he was beginning to feel before turning back to his mother.
She held a now-empty glass in trembling hands in her lap as silent tears ran down her face. Looking into the fire she said, "He's not here. Your father is the only one still in Azkaban on the Dark Lord's orders. Those dementor fiends only have him to feed off of!" Her trembling continued as did her tears. Suddenly, she jumped up and threw the tumbler into the heart of the fire. It looked to Draco as if she had to force herself to look away from the flames and into his eyes as she took the few steps to him and putting her hands on his shoulders she said, "He won't let him out until he speaks to you about your mission!" and then collapsed into Draco's arms; the potion having taken full effect.
Going to stand in front of the Darkest Wizard of all time was quite nerve-racking, to say the least. Draco knew they couldn't see him sweating behind his mask, but he hoped they couldn't see him shaking either. When he reached the thrown-like chair the Dark Lord sat on, he went down on one knee, his head bowed, and took a slow breath, waiting for his turn to speak.
"What news do you bring your Master, youngest Malfoy? Have you made any progress on this most important task?" Voldemort asked.
Draco could picture the sneer he knew to be on the face looming above him. "Yes, my Lord," he was relieved to hear his voice come out steady and strong .
"Well?" Voldemort replied in a deceptively patient voice as he stood to begin circling the kneeling form in front of him.
"I have been able to send through inanimate objects successfully. I had started with non-living things, a ball, a quill, an inkwell- they came back flat, broken, and shattered. I continued to work diligently, my Lord and was able to progress around Halloween to living inanimate objects, an apple, a flower, and a potted plant. They came back scathed as well; a bite in the apple, all the pedals of the flower had vanished, and the potted plant had withered, but just before leaving Hogwarts for Christmas I have been able to make progress with the apple and the flower- they come back whole and untouched," he finished, desperately wanting to look up but forcing himself to continue looking at the ground in front of him and follow the rustling cloak that told him where Voldemort's position was with just his ears.
The sound stopped right behind him and a full minute went by before he felt a long-fingered ice-cold hand on his shoulder that slowly began to squeeze harder and harder until he nearly cried out, then he heard the cold voice issue the orders he had been holding his breath for.
Over a full day had passed since Draco had first come home, it was dark again and he didn't know what time it was, only that he was exhausted. It wasn't until they crossed over the threshold of Malfoy Manor that Lucius allowed his son to take on the majority of his weight. Their wet cloaks had frozen around them and the snow that had clung to them began to fall in icy chunks at their feet.
"Lucius! Draco!" cried his mother as she ran to the pair of them, then over her shoulder, "Blinkin, get some hot stew and tea! Nod, a hot bath, and for Merlin's sake bring some blankets!" the two house elves that had been behind her quickly popped to do her bidding. Draco allowed her to lead them to the nearest sitting room and with a wave of her wand had a fire crackling merrily as though it had been doing so for hours.
Where his father had collapsed into the chair nearest the fire, Draco remained standing. "I'm going to go change," he informed the room. As he turned to go, his father's cold, chapped hand grabbed his wrist.
"Just get it done already, Draco. Then we can be back in the Dark Lord's… good graces... then everything will be good for us again…"
Draco clenched his jaw, balled his fists, and slowly turned his head to look at him. Lucius dropped the wrist like he had been burned but still tried to hold the fire in Draco's eyes- but failed quickly and looked down at his own hands.
"You have no idea what is going on, do you?" asked Draco, so coldly that the blaze in the fireplace seemed to have suddenly lost its warming effect. "This whole thing is so much bigger than the name "Malfoy" getting back into good graces- no one else will see it that way anyway, Father."
"But-" his father began, looking as hopeful as a child that the floating goldfish in the bowl might just start swimming again, "When everything is back to normal again-"
"THERE IS NO 'NORMAL!' NOT LIKE IT USED TO BE, AT LEAST! THAT LIFE WILL NEVER BE AGAIN!" Draco had moved right in front of the chair his father sat in, one hand on each of the arms. He took a deep breath and leaned down to eye level, impassioned silver meeting defeated grey, and when he spoke it was just above a whisper, "It will only be darker than ever before or Dumbledore will save the day and we'll be out. We've shown our true colours- you saw to that."
He saw a flash of anger go over his father's face, then fear. "You doubt your Master? His power to-"
"-kill mercilessly?" Draco cut him off and pushed away from the chair. Looking down at his father's emaciated form he said, "No, I don't doubt that or his power. I respect him in the fact that he can kill me just as easily as blink- probably with less effort. I will not cross him. He's given me the assignment and I will do it- fearfully- but it will get done."
"Malfoy's don't-"
"-show fear. Yes, Father, I know." He glanced at the clock above the mantel and sighed, it was half-past two in the morning. "I'm going to clean up, then I'm going out for a while. Don't wait up."
Half an hour later and about ninety miles away, Draco stealthily made his way through vast fields. His sensitive ears could hear the chickens long before he could see their coop. The lopsided building he was searching for finally loomed over a small hill. He got as close to the magical barriers as he could and sat down in the snow. He lifted his furry snout and gave a long mournful howl and before he finished he heard a distant window open. He looked to the house and could catch the slight flashes of long ginger hair blowing in the moonlight. After a minute he caught the scent and smiled a wolfish grin as the head quickly disappeared from the window.