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Chapter Twelve
Year Two
Draco placed his bottomless pouch, with the diary horcrux still inside, at the very bottom of his trunk; he planned to keep it there until he figured out how to destroy it. He knew Basilisk venom did the job, but he honestly preferred not to go anywhere near the deadly monster that lurked within the depths of the school. He planned to sneak into the Restricted Section and see if he could find another way to destroy it. Perhaps a very potent poison would do the trick; he knew of some that had snake venom infused into them, but whether or not they would be strong enough to destroy a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, he wasn't sure.
He remembers his father ranting about Potter and how he destroyed the diary for months after the fact. It wasn't until after the Dark Lord's return that they had found out what the diary truly was. He also knew it could be destroyed by Fiendfyre; he had learned so during the final battle and the tragic loss of one of his closest friends. It was an incredibly powerful spell and, in truth, he didn't know if he could yield it correctly—very few wizards could and he wasn't about to take the chance and risk his life, or anyone else's.
He had received a letter from Goyle—apparently he had been grounded for the rest of the summer. Draco felt bad about his punishment, but he did warn them going into it that there would be consequences. He wasn't sure what exactly happened with Crabbe but he would make it up to both of them when they returned to school—starting with a fifty galleon gift certificate to Honeydukes, each.
He had also received mail from Harry and Hermione, both of who seemed to be enjoying the rest of their summer. Hermione had mentioned how much her parents enjoyed meeting him, and although their chat had been brief (knowing his father could re-enter the bookstore at any moment), Jacob and Joanna had suggested that perhaps he could visit their home the following summer. No matter how much Draco loved the idea, he didn't see it as feasible.
Harry spent his final weeks at the Weasley's and mentioned de-gnoming, flying, and Quidditch. He also mentioned Ginny, who was so infatuated with him—at that point she was having trouble stringing two words together in his presence. As interesting as all of that was, it was the last part of Potter's letter that really caught Draco's attention.
As big as Potter Estate is, and the fact that I was technically alone (aside from Hedwig), I never felt the slightest bit lonely. I found a room on the second floor and it was filled with portraits of my ancestors. For the first time in my life I was able to talk to wizarding members of my family, even if it is just a picture infused with their memories; it was still my family. I talked to my grandfather Charles for hours about my dad. He sounded like a great man, if not a bit egotistical—I suppose Snape was right about that part—but don't you ever tell him I said so!
I only wish there had been portraits of my parents as well, but they didn't have one made before their deaths. I was thinking of having ones made from some pictures I've found. Even if they won't be able to talk to me, they'll still be there, in the hall of ancestors, where they rightfully should be.
Draco, as much as he came to hate his father later in life, still had family that loved him. Potter never had that. Not until he married and had his own children was he able to give and receive the type of love and affection one can only get from their family. Severus had said Potter was weak, and that he would never be able to have full reign over his magic until he learned to control his emotions and discipline his mind. Draco thought with Harry's difficult past, it would have been next to impossible for him to gain the control to organize his thoughts, feelings and memories the way Severus had expected him too. And in all honestly, with everything Potter suffered at his family's home and at Hogwarts, Draco was surprised the boy didn't end up an emotional cripple or worse…like the Dark Lord.
Narcissa had been quite happy with her son; he had been turning into such a fine young wizard. He was powerful, obviously, mature, making overall good decisions, and most importantly he was happy. He had spent the past summer engaging in several of his hobbies—which she was now proud to say included horseback riding. He had made sure to keep in contact with his friends, though what had gotten into Vincent and Gregory lately was beyond her.
Gregory's mother had said she had caught the two boys trying to tie garden gnomes to fireworks, and this was before their little outburst in Flourish and Blotts, there was defiantly something odd going on with those two. Not that they weren't always a bit, well, special. Still, Draco counted them among his close friends and had even promised to have a talk with the lads to see if they would confide in him what was behind their peculiar behavior.
She gave her son a warm hug, reminded him to write soon and watched as he boarded the Hogwarts Express to begin the journey of his second year.
XXX
Draco wasted no time in finding Crabbe and Goyle in a compartment toward the back of the train, it was where most of the Slytherins converged. The first thing he noticed was Crabbe's left arm was in a sling.
"Crabbe, is that from the fight?" He immediately went to sit besides his friend, his eyes filled with pity and guilt. He hadn't thought they had ruffled each other up that bad.
"Nah, my dad did this." He responded casually with a shrug.
"What! Why?"
"Well, his words were something along the lines of 'if you want to fight like a disgusting Muggle then I'll give you a proper show of it.'"
Draco paled, "Oh Merlin, Crabbe! I'm so sorry. I never would have thought… I wouldn't have asked you to…I'm so sorry."
Crabbe just laughed. "It's alright, mate. I'd rather have a busted arm than deal with the dark curses he usually uses on me when I screw up."
A knot slowly began to form in the pit of Draco's stomach. How could he have not seen this coming? He knew Crabbe's father was much like his own when it came to discipline: ruthless, unforgiving.
"I'll make it up to you, to both of you," the blonde Slytherin looked to Crabbe and then Goyle, and then back to Crabbe. "Anything you need, just ask."
"Well, there is one thing." Crabbe grinned before lifting up his left butt-cheek from the seat, his face scrunched up slightly before an earth shattering fart exploded from underneath him.
Goyle broke out in a fit laugher while Draco immediately went for the window, opening it. He then pulled out his wand and preformed an air freshening charm—it really didn't do much to help.
"Christ Crabbe, that's not right. Maybe you should have a healer take a look at your bowels. That was worse than a Hippogriff with diarrhea."
"Now we're even," he said leaning back into his seat, still ginning, not the slightest bit affected by the horrendous scent that just came from his body.
XXX
Hermione could smell it from down the corridor; she was guessing someone let out a stink bomb, though this one must have been pretty potent, it was starting to make her eyes water. Rising from her seat, she went to the window and opened it, perhaps a little fresh air well help.
"You're just lucky you didn't get the full blast of it."
Hermione laughed as her eyes immediately turned to her Slytherin friend who was now standing in the door way.
"Someone let off a stink bomb I'm guessing."
Shaking his head he replied, "No, it was one of Crabbe's."
She gave him a look of unbelief. "I know the boy has some issues containing his body odors at times, but to blame that on him… that's just cruel."
Draco laughed and shrugged, "It's the truth, must have had some bad kippers for breakfast," he joked sitting down besides his best friend.
"I'll say," she said with a laugh, but then suddenly the grin on Hermione face faded, concern and worry filled her chocolate brown eyes. "I saw him boarding the train earlier—his arm was in a sling. Did he tell you what happened, is he okay?"
Draco's smile quickly flattened as well, "Yeah…um, well his father…let's just say he didn't take well to the commotion he and Goyle caused in Flourish and Blotts."
Hermione gasped in shock. "His father did that to him?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Draco rubbed his eyes then rubbing his thumb and forefinger down the length of his nose. "He's okay, the bones already healed, he just has to keep it still for a few days."
Hermione knew that some families in the wizarding world, like Lucius Malfoy, gave their children harsher punishments then most, Draco had been very clear on that; as well as the fact that most cases are never reported and those that are, are often conveniently lost. Much of the wizarding world was, in Hermione opinion, utterly backward in so many ways, including how they dealt with child abuse. There were no such agencies as family and social services, and no one seemed to be in a hurry to change that.
XXX
Draco's mind wondered as Dumbledore went over the start of tern announcements, including introducing the new DADA teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart. What a ponce. Honestly, what was the Headmaster thinking when he hired some of these people? Then again, the position was cursed; there probably wasn't much of a waiting list. Draco remembered future Hermione once telling him that McGonagall had asked her and Harry to teach the class on several occasion; of course they always respectfully declined. Despite the curse being supposedly lifted after the Dark Lord was vanquished, most professors still didn't last more than a few years at a time.
After the Headmaster finished his speech, Draco's eyes drifted back to the Gryffindor table, Hermione was talking to Ginny Weasley, who had once again been sorted into Gryffindor with the rest of her red-headed family. He gave an inward smile as he thought of what he had done for her, for the whole school really. The youngest Weasley wouldn't have to endure being possessed by a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, no one would have to deal with a deadly snake roaming the corridors petrifying people, and most importantly Potter wouldn't have to deal with battling a Basilisk and would hopefully be allowed to have a relatively calm second year.
XXX
Severus sighed as he plopped how on his back leather couch which rested directly in front of the fire in his private quarters. With a flick of his wrist he summoned a glass and bottle of Ogden's Finest from the small mini bar hidden behind one of his bookshelves.
"Honestly," he grumbled, pouring the brown liquor into the glass, "Dumbledore's choice for Defense Against the Dark Arts gets worse every year." Bringing the glass to his lips, he quickly downed it. "Why not hire a Leprechaun to teach the bloody class, or better yet Hagrid, at least that would be entertaining. But no, he had to go with pretty-boy Lockhart," He continued to complain as he refilled his glass. "The smiling fool. I bet he wouldn't smile so much if I hexed those pearly whites coal black, maybe added a nice fungus to them as well. Ha. Let's see what Witch Weekly would say about his most handsome smile after that."
"Someone's bitter."
The Potions professor/spy was rarely taken by surprise so when the sound of Narcissa's voice seemingly came out of nowhere he could help but jump slightly.
"Sorry to startle you, but do you have a minute?"
Snape nodded at the floating head which hung in the dancing green flames, "Might as well, come on through."
"Thank you." Narcissa stepped through the flames, quickly taking a seat beside her friend.
Severus took a final swing of his drink before placing the now empty glass down on the table beside his couch. "So, what is it that I can do you this fine evening, Narcissa?"
The blonde pureblood took a long deep breath, her blue eyes moving to focus intently into his black. "I need your help."
"With what?"
"Lucius is up to something."
Severus snorted, "Lucius is always up to something."
"Yes, but…now I don't know exactly what's going on, but I accidently over head him on a floo call to Vincent Crabbe Sr. and he said something about finally paying back Arthur Weasley for all his unexpected raids and…he said it involved his daughter."
"That's…interesting."
"Now you know firsthand I'm no fan of the Weasleys, but this is an innocent eleven year old girl we're talking about."
"Hum."
Severus," She had reached out her hand, gently placing it atop his. His eyes turned to meet hers, he had always thought then beautiful, like the sky on clear day. "Please, try and keep an eye on the girl."
He simply nodded as Narcissa rose from the couch. "Thank you," she said smiling softly before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "You are a good friend." And with that she swept back through the floo.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the weekly chapter. Next up a little Snape/Draco interaction, Harry has a heart to heart with Ron and Draco does his best to reward Crabb and Goyle.
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