Thanks all of you so much for your reviews. It means a lot! I'm really glad that most of you liked the party, I edited it once but I think its fine the way it is now. :)
I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to post. I've been working on my original work and I never got the chance until now to really work on this.
I hope you like it and please review!
-C
Chapter Twelve
The next day Draco woke up to find that Neville was already gone. He sat up slowly and glanced around and saw that there was a small note on the nightstand next to his bed. He grabbed it lazily and his gray eyes scanned over it, reading the words slowly so his tired, clouded brain would understand what it said.
Thanks for inviting me. It was fun. I'll see you on the platform! Have a great Christmas Draco.
-Neville
Draco yawned and then placed the note back on the nightstand. The light from the morning sun was flooding through his window and snow covered the branches of the tree that were right outside his bedroom. He glanced at the clock that was perched on his wall and raised an eyebrow, surprised – it was already ten o'clock. Usually his parents would have woken him up by now, or they would have sent Dobby to wake him so they could all open presents.
He threw his legs over the side of the bed and then slid off of it gracefully. His curiosity had fully awakened him and so he sauntered out of his room and into the hallway. The hardwood floor was cold beneath his feet.
Where were his parents? Were they even home? Had they actually left him on Christmas Day?
When he reached the end of the hallway he heard his mother's voice, he was about to make his presence known but when he heard what she said, he stayed quiet, being sure not to take a step out into the open.
"I can't believe she let him stay here." Narcissa said, and when Draco peeked around the corner he saw that she was facing his father with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked exhausted, something Draco didn't see often. She looked as if she hadn't gotten any sleep since the party. Draco kneeled down so he was partly out in the open, but was covered partly from the railing that led to the staircase and partly from the wall.
"Perhaps she is unaware that it happened here." Lucius reasoned, his voice strangely not as strong as usual, yet he seemed much more presentable than Narcissa. Even so though he had dark circles round his eyes and his posture wasn't as straightforward. Draco could tell that something was wrong, and it was starting to eat at him.
What exactly were they talking about?
"Even if she was unaware it happened here, she knows who we are." Narcissa said, shaking her head, her face contorted between something that looked like struggle and pain, "She knows that Bella is my sister." She uncrossed her arms and then put a hand on her forehead.
"I cannot believe you will still regard her with such affections." Lucius scoffed, his stare hardening on his wife.
Draco stared at his parents, feeling completely at a loss. What were they talking about? The notion of uncertainty began to fill his chest and tingle at his neck; who were they talking about? He thought for a moment, the only person that had never been to the manor before last night was Neville – why were they talking about Neville? What were they talking about being the bigger question.
"She is my sister Lucius." Narcissa nearly snarled, "Excuse me if I can't throw that away as easily as you think I should."
Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed in a mocking manner, "She is insane Narcissa, you know this. Do not act as if you don't. You even stated earlier that she was and still is completely out of her mind – she tortured the Longbottoms into insanity and didn't even blink."
Draco felt his stomach drop and the sudden urge to throw up overcame him. His aunt Bellatrix had tortured Neville's parents? When? Why? In their home? Draco wasn't sure why but guilt suddenly filled every part of him – he had brought Neville into the place where his parents had lost their minds. Before Draco could muse over all of his sudden thoughts though, his mother continued;
"And I suppose you think you are better." Narcissa spat, "I suppose you think that because you didn't actually execute the act, that your hands are clean?" She laughed humorlessly, "You followed him with so much pride – you kept your head held high. You were his most trusted Lucius; he almost adored you if he was even capable of feeling anything other than hate. Giving out orders is just as bad as doing the deed yourself."
Draco's eyes went wide once more and he felt his hands start to shake. Had his mother simply said what he thought she said? Had his mother just confirmed that… that his own father…
Lucius took a sudden step forward, making Narcissa take one back. "I did not command Bellatrix to torture the Longbottoms. I had nothing to do with that." His voice was dangerously low and he was giving Narcissa such a hateful look that it scared Draco.
"Oh but you watched." She said, taking a step forward. "You watched her in that very room," She pointed to the ballroom that the party had passed on the night before, "as Frank and Alice Longbottom lost their minds!" Her voice was hushed but urgent, "That poor boy walked into our home, not knowing that this is the very place he lost his parents!"
"You watched as well Narcissa, do not just point the finger at me." Lucius said, his voice beginning to even out once again.
"You were the reason I was there! You dragged us into that! I wanted nothing to do with any of it! How do you think I felt? Draco was crying upstairs as Bellatrix tortured his future friend's parents!" She shook her head, "What kind of people are we Lucius? Inviting a boy into the home that has more than likely ruined his own?"
Draco's mind was so congested he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear anymore. He slowly stepped back so he was behind the wall, completely out of view. He took another few steps back but stopped – he felt paralyzed.
I'm not saying anything that's not true! It's true! His father used to be a follower of you-know-who!
You shouldn't say things like that.
He shouldn't bother me!
It's not Zabini's fault that he doesn't have a dad and that's just… I don't know. Nevermind.
Ronald Weasley's voice, along with his own and Neville's all swam through his head at once, making him close his eyes. He felt sick – he felt as if someone had punched him in his stomach. He turned on his heel and started to retreat back to his room, the sudden urge to run away overcoming him. He wasn't sure how to begin to organize his thoughts – he wasn't even sure how to comprehend what he had just overheard.
His father had lied to him. He had told Draco that he had been forced into following You-Know-Who , he had told Draco that the Imperius curse had been used on him. He lied. He'd lied.
There was a part of Draco that wasn't sure why he was surprised. A part of him wasn't sure why he felt so disgusted that his own father had followed the most feared and evil wizard that had ever existed. The Malfoy's were a pureblood family, they hated muggles and mudbloods, and they could barely stand half-breeds. Why wouldn't his family follow You-Know-Who, who believed in all of the same things. It made sense yet it made Draco physically sick.
Draco probably wouldn't have cared a year ago. A year ago he probably would have boasted about it to his friends.
A year ago, though, Draco didn't have two half-breed friends. He didn't have a muggleborn girl around that tended to fascinate him.
He didn't have a best friend named Neville Longbottom a year ago.
Neville.
He couldn't believe that his family was the reason that Neville was left with none. He had no parents because his parents were too weak to do the right thing and stop the madness that was being orchestrated in their own home. What a sick coincidence it was that he had managed to befriend the one person that his parents probably wished he wouldn't have.
Draco understood now why his parents had treated Neville with such uneasiness and dare he say it, regret. It was no wonder why his father had bought the boy a wand. Did he suppose that buying Neville a wand made up for watching as his parents were taken away from him forever? Did his mother think that getting him nice robes for a party that occurred in the very room his parents were tortured in, made up for watching as two people were tortured until they lost themselves? Were they delusional enough to think that they could somehow make up for what they had witnessed and attempted not to stop?
Neville Longbottom was the only person he cared about almost more than himself. He didn't like to see the boy sad and it made his blood boil when someone tried to make fun of him. Neville was his best friend and the fact that his family had taken away the one thing that every child should have, made him sick to his core.
He reached his room and glanced around quickly. He didn't want to stay there – he had to leave. He had to leave before his parents came looking for him because he didn't think he could face them. His father had been a bloody Death Eater, a title that Draco had been forbidden to say. He had to leave before he drove himself mad with all of the thoughts that started to congest his mind.
Where would he go though? He wasn't sure how to get back to Hogwarts. The train wouldn't be there for another week and there was no way he could stay in the manor for that long. He couldn't floo there either. He could go to Neville's house but he wasn't sure where that was or if he'd even be welcome there.
He took a few steps back to glance around his room in an almost panic state, he had to leave. Draco had to find a way to escape before his parent's came to fetch him.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. Dobby. He snapped his fingers and a moment later the house elf was standing before him, the CRACK not as loud as it usually was. Maybe there was a way that Dobby could help him, after all, elves could apparate.
"Happy Christmas Little…." Dobby started, but was interrupted by Draco.
"Can you apparate me to Hogwarts?" He asked quickly, his grey eyes glancing at his door as if at any moment he expected his father to barge into the room.
"Why does Little Master want to go back to Hogwarts?" Dobby asked, his head tilting to the side.
"Can you do it or not!?" Draco hissed, his heart started to pound harder in his chest. He started to feel hot, like he was going to explode at any second. The room felt smaller and he felt as if he was getting trapped.
"Dobby is capable of it yes, but Dobby cannot take Little Master without permission from Lady Malfoy or Master Malfoy."
Draco shook his head, "I need you to take me now." He said forcefully, a little hope starting to rise in his chest. "Just say that you don't know where I went. Just say anything, you don't have to tell them that you took me."
"Dobby is sorry Little Master, but Dobby cannot deceive Lady and Master Malfoy." Dobby said quietly, almost sounding disappointed. Draco was about to yell at him, but before he could Dobby spoke again; "However, if Little Master were to floo to Hogmeade and then walk to Hogwarts, Dobby wouldn't be deceiving anyone." A mischievous glint was shining in Dobby's eyes that Draco had never seen before and he couldn't help but grin.
"Where in Hogsmeade?" Draco asked quickly, walking over to grab his wand off of his nightstand. He didn't care if he had to crawl to Hogwarts, he had to leave the manor. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. He felt deceived and betrayed and there were parts of him that weren't sure why.
"Dobby believes that the easiest place would be either the Shrieking Shack, seeing as it is vacant or the Hogshead, which shouldn't be too crowded since students are on Holiday." Draco had never heard Dobby speak so easily before, it almost scared him. Dobby's green eyes were staring at him in a strange way, almost as if he was daring Draco to leave.
"I need some floo powder." Draco said as he collected the bag that his mother had enchanted for him to carry around school. He walked over to his trunk that was at the foot of his bed and threw everything inside his bag. He wasn't sure why Dobby was helping him but he wasn't going to question it.
"If Dobby is correct, the spare study room has some, along with a fireplace that Little Master can use." Dobby said, his tiny arms laced behind his back.
Normally Draco would have been annoyed or even offended that Dobby was speaking to him so casually, but at that moment Draco felt as if he could almost hug the house elf. "Thanks Dobby, you are dismissed. Keep my parent's distracted as long as you can, but don't be obvious."
"Dobby will try his best Little Master." A moment later Dobby was gone, leaving no trace other than the CRACK that echoed in the room for a split second.
Draco walked over to his wardrobe and changed quickly into some casual warm robes. He grabbed a scarf from his wardrobe and wrapped it around his neck and also pulled out a pair of gloves that he slid on his hands - he imagined it was freezing outside and he didn't want to suffer too much on his way to Hogwarts. He grabbed a hat and placed it on his head and then threw on a heavy coat. His bag was thrown over his shoulder and his wand was tucked in the inside pocket of his robes.
He glanced around and without a second thought he walked out of his room. It was strange; he was technically running away from home. He knew that his parents would find him and he also knew that he was going to have to tell them what he knew, but at that moment he couldn't face it and all he wanted to do was get away from them and the blasted manor.
He made his way halfway down the hallway and opened the door to his right. It was the spare study that his father used when Dobby was cleaning the other one but for the most part it was mainly untouched. There were times when his mother would use it to have her meeting with the many boards she was a part of. It was a rather large room – there was a circular table in the center with a dozen chairs placed around it. A fireplace adored the back wall behind the table and there was also a desk to Draco's right which was cluttered with random papers and books and random painting hung all along the walls.
Draco walked over to the desk and opened the side top drawer and sighed in relief when he saw the floo powder. He grabbed a handful of it and walked over to the fireplace, it was clean and when Draco stepped into it he felt his heart clench in the strangest of ways. He felt almost cold for a moment – he was leaving home, instead of being abandoned, he was doing the abandoning with no explanation as to why.
However, the larger part of him didn't care.
"Hogshead!" Draco said loudly, throwing the powder at his feet and he immediately watched as the study disappeared. He was engulfed in green flames but felt nothing. It was longer than apparition but at least there was no pain or irritation. Moments later Draco was being thrown out of another fireplace, his bag falling on his chest, which made him cough loudly.
He sat up slowly, not expecting to be literally thrown out of a fireplace. That had never happened to him before. He stood up quickly and strapped his bag on his back. He glanced around, the room was dark but there was a window that was almost to the ceiling that let some light in, which made him realize he was in a basement. Why there was a fireplace in the basement of the Hogshead, Draco didn't know.
Everything was dusty; there were tables and chairs all around, some covered up with cloths while others were just covered in dust. There were random decorations that were stored around, but Draco didn't pay too much attention. He glanced around the room and sighed in relief when he saw the stairs.
He walked over to them and climbed them slowly, each of his steps making the wood beneath screech in protest. When he reached the door that led upstairs he cracked it open slowly, it led into a hallway which seemed vacant. He poked his head out, and looked down the hallway both ways and deemed it clear when he saw no one for a few seconds. One end of the hallway led into an opening while the other led to a door. He stepped out and closed the door behind him, it shutting with a quiet click.
He heard laughter at the open end of the hallway. He jumped back ungracefully, surprised by the noise. He turned around to look at the door at the opposite and but sighed when he realized it was the restroom. Draco took a deep breath, he was going to have to try and sneak out the front door. Maybe if he just walked quietly, no one would notice him.
Draco slowly walked down the hallway and into the opening, which led to the pub. The bar was directly to his right, the stools facing the wall that the hallway led out of. There weren't many people, and none of them were paying him any attention thankfully. They were a rowdy looking crowd, making Draco panic slightly.
He walked forward and then stopped to look around; no one had even looked in his general direction yet. He could see the front door ahead and decided to just make a break for it. He walked briskly to the other side of the pub and was out the front door before he could even take a breath.
Draco sighed in relief when the door closed behind him and no one came running after him. He glanced around the town and realized that he had never actually been there before. He swallowed hard, realizing that he wasn't quite sure which direction Hogwarts was in. He glanced around, not many people were walking about but there were the few who were. Snow covered the grounds and roofs of the buildings around him.
He was just about to take a step forward and look for directions when he heard someone in front of him gasp, making him jump backwards slightly, almost back into the Hogshead.
When he looked up and wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.
Hagrid was standing a few feet away from him, staring at him as if he had never seen a blonde headed boy before. "Draco? What are yeh doin' out 'ere?" He asked, walking over to stand directly in front of him.
"I'm… going back to Hogwarts for the rest of the holiday." Draco answered lamely, not looking up to meet Hagrid's gaze. There was a part of him that felt that if he looked up at the big oaf he would spill everything because it was all still fresh to him.
"Yer parents are just gonna let yeh walk there?" Hagrid questioned, completely confused. "On Christmas no less?" He stared at Draco, his eyebrow raised.
Draco slowly peeked up at the oaf and quickly glanced down, "Like I said, I need to get to Hogwarts…" He thought for a moment, Hagrid must have known the way back. "Can you take me there?"
"Well, alright." Hagrid said, "I still don't understand what yer doin' 'ere so early thou'" He turned around and waved for Draco to follow him, "It's not too far."
Draco followed the huge man, for once thankful at how much the baboon cared about the students at Hogwarts. It probably also helped that he was friends with Potter, which meant that he got dragged around to visit Hagrid at times.
Neither of them said a word and Draco was relieved, he didn't think he'd be able to have a real conversation and supply real answers. He had just left his home on Christmas without telling his parents – he didn't tell them why he was leaving and they probably didn't even know he was gone. He wasn't sure if he was angry with them or just completely disappointed. How was he supposed to feel?
His father apparently used to be You-Know-Who's best follower and had watched his best friend's parents get driven into insanity. He felt a lot of things at once which did nothing for his mind other than overwhelm him.
Draco could see Hogwarts a few moments later as they walked up a hill. He hadn't expected the castle's appearance to comfort him so much but it did – he was happy to be back. They walked up the hill and Hagrid walked him through the courtyard until he was at one of the main entrances which would lead to the Great Hall.
"Well, 'ere yeh are." Hagrid said slowly, "I hope you have a Happy Christmas Draco. I'm sure that Harry will manage to drag you to tea soon."
Draco nodded, "I'm sure he will. Thanks Hagrid." He actually meant it too – Hagrid hadn't asked him any questions and hadn't prodded him or even tried to talk to him. It was almost as if he could sense that something was amiss.
Hagrid turned around and began to walk back toward Hogsmeade and Draco walked to the huge door and opened it with a light push, the wooden door opening with no objection. He walked in and immediately felt warmer. The door closed behind him automatically and slowly Draco shuffled his feet forward, glancing around the castle, the familiar surroundings comforting him.
Draco wasn't sure where he was supposed to go. He knew that his parents were going to look for him. He would probably have to go to Dumbledore's office once again and talk to his father or maybe even his mother, at that moment however he didn't care. He was just relieved to be away from the manor.
He made his way to the changing staircases and walked until he reached the seventh floor. He watched the fat lady, who was garbed in a green dress and had her hair pinned back. When she was Draco walking towards her she gasped and then crossed her arms over her chest.
"And what, may I ask, are you doing here?" She said suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Pig Snout." He said lazily.
"Ah Ah Aha." She said, uncrossing her arms and shaking a finger at him. "I know you didn't stay for Holiday break so why are you here?" She asked again.
"Pig. Snout." Draco said, glaring at her. He did not have the time or the mental capability of dealing with her never ending questions, he also wasn't going to give her any information because all she would do was go and gossip to the other paintings.
"You are so rude!" She said, huffing at him and then swinging the door open. Draco walked in, rolling his eyes at how dramatic she was.
When Draco walked into the common room, he hadn't expected to see anyone but of course he was wrong – when was he ever right?
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were standing in front of the entirely too big Christmas tree throwing gifts at one another and laughing. They hadn't noticed Draco yet and he wondered if he could sneak past them and into the dormitories. Before he could ponder the idea too much though, Potter turned in his direction and his green eyes widened.
"Draco?" He asked, sounding completely confused. "What are you doing here?"
Weasley turned to and nearly stumbled back, "Bloody Hell?" He nearly squeaked.
Draco glanced between the two of them and found that he couldn't help but laugh. Both of them were wearing ridiculous sweaters with their initials stitched onto them. "I'm so happy to see you too Weasel." He said, winking at the redhead and then walking over to sit on the couch in front of the tree. There was no turning back; he was just going to have to act as if everything was okay.
Weasley snorted, "As if I would ever be happy to see your face." He grunted. His blue eyes glanced around the tree and rolled his eyes, "My mother made you something." He threw a package in Draco's direction and he caught it clumsily.
Draco stared at it as if it was a foreign object – it was wrapped in red and blue paper and it felt soft. He raised an eyebrow at Weasley, who had his arms crossed and eyes trained on Draco. "What is this?" Draco asked, holding the bundle with one hand as if it was a wet rag.
"It's probably a sweater or something." Weasley said, gesturing to his and Potter's attire.
"Hmm." Draco hummed, he placed the present in his lap and opened it, opening the cornered first so he could just slip whatever was inside, out. A dark green sweater fell onto his lap and when he held it out for inspection it had the letter 'D' stitched onto in a dark gray – he stared at it for a moment and then looked back at Potter and Weasley, "I'm not wearing this." He said blandly. The material looked itchy and he wasn't about to walk around with something a Weasley made.
"C'mon Draco, we all got one." Potter said, grinning at him.
"No."
"You scared or something?"
Draco snorted, "Please."
"I dare you to wear it." Potter said, smirking at him in a challenging manner.
Draco stared at the boy-who-lived for a moment and then laughed, "You seriously expect me to wear this thing?" He pointed at the sweater in his lap with distaste, "I don't even understand why she would make me one."
"She thinks we're friends." Weasley supplied, walking over to look through the other presents.
"Poor woman, she must be getting senile." Draco said. He took a moment to think and realized that he wasn't anxious anymore; he didn't feel congested at all. He felt calm and normal which almost bothered him considering he was with Weasley and Potter.
"Hey! Don't talk about my mum." Weasley said warning.
"Is that little Malfoy!?" Fred and George said in unison, walking down the stairs and into the common room, both wearing their sweaters that their mother had made them.
"C'mon mate, our mum works hard." Fred said, placing his hands on his hips.
"Put it on." George said, mirroring his brother's stance.
"No." Draco said flatly. There was no way in hell he was going to be caught dead wearing such a disgusting piece of clothing.
"If you don't put it on…." Fred said in his singsong voice, making Draco sigh on the inside.
"We're going to force it on you." George finished, winking at him.
"I'd listen if I were you, Draco." Potter said, laughing outright at the scene in front of him.
Draco looked between the twins and then sighed in defeat. There was no telling what the Weasley twins had up their sleeve and the last thing he wanted was so be more humiliated at whatever they wanted to experiment on him with. He threw his coat off and then held the sweater out to inspect it.
"I hate all of you." Draco stated harshly as he put the blasted thing on. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see himself. He probably looked like a muggle in such ugly clothing.
"Dawww, you look so cute!" Fred and George beamed in unison, which made both Potter and Weaslebee laugh.
Draco opened his eyes and then glanced down at himself and groaned. He looked ridiculous, the material of the sweater was fuzzy and it annoyed him at how vibrant it looked, however it wasn't itchy and was actually quite soft. His gray eyes glared at everyone in the room, not pleased what so ever. He had long forgotten why he was there the first place.
Fred and George walked out, saying something about finding and torturing Filch, leaving Draco, Potter and Weasley in the common room.
Potter turned to face him, arms crossed over his chest. "We got your letter." He said, grinning.
Draco smirked, "I thought it was appropriate."
"Well?" Potter said, "Who is Nicolas Flamel?"
Draco thought for a moment, wanting to make Potter squirm just to annoy him. "Well...I was going to make you wait until term resumed… why should I do any different."
"Draco." Potter said warningly.
"Come on Malfoy, don't be a prat. Even if it is in your nature." Weasley said, sitting down in front of the tree while munching on a chocolate frog. " Ugh! I got Dumbledore again!"
Draco sighed, realizing he didn't have the energy to mess with them. He might have been in a better mood but he still felt emotionally and mentally drained. "Nicolas Flamel is the maker of the Philosopher's Stone."
Weasley stared at him as if he was stupid, "What in the bloody hell is that?"
"It can be used to create the Elixir of Life, which can length a person's lifespan." Draco said nonchalantly, recalling what his father had told him.
Potter pinched his lips together for a moment and then sighed, "I wonder why Snape wants that." He said, sounding completely at a loss.
Draco huffed, "It's not Snape!" He nearly shouted, "It's Quirrell." He insisted, "I'm serious Potter, Snape is my godfather, he isn't trying to kill you or whatever you think he's doing. Quirrell is up to something."
Weasley's mouth hung open, "Snape's your godfather?!"
"No wonder you get away with so much." Potter mused out loud, making Draco narrow his eyes.
"I'm not kidding." He said flatly, "There is something going on with Quirrell. I just can't get close enough to hear what he says when he thinks he's alone."
Potter grinned from ear to ear and then looked at Weasley. "We… might have a solution for that." He said, looking back to Draco mischievously.
Draco blinked, confused. "What exactly are you…" But he stopped talking when suddenly Potter grabbed a cloak sitting on a chair and wrapped it around himself, all of his body gone besides his head. "Where in the bloody hell did you get an invisibility cloak!?" Draco questioned heatedly, he had heard of them before but had never actually seen one in person. Potter just laughed at him and Draco glared.
"Here." Potter said, throwing the cloak at him, his stupid I have something you want smile plastered on his face.
The cloak fell on Draco's lap and he grinned, he stood up and then wrapped the cloak around himself completely. When he glanced down he couldn't see his body anymore and grinned. "This is brilliant." He said quietly, they'd be able to sneak and listen to Quirrell and there was no way they could get caught. It was perfect.
"Alright, give it back." Potter said.
Draco hummed and then shook his head, "I think I'd rather keep it actually." He winked at Potter and then pulled the cloak over his head. He saw a strange expression wash over Potter's face and then held in a snigger. He walked over to Weasley and then pushed the other boy's arm toward him so his chocolate frog smeared all around his mouth.
"Malfoy!" Weasley said, lunging forward but landing on the floor.
Draco took the cloak off and handed it back to Potter, "That is quite the present," He began, laughing when he saw Weasley's face. "Who gave it to you?"
Potter took the cloak and held it as if it were a jewel, "I don't know… someone said it was my father's and just gave it back to me."
Draco didn't like the sudden drop in the boy wonder's voice, and he didn't like that he felt sorry for him either. However, he thought back to Neville and he couldn't help the feeling that started to swirl in his stomach – neither Neville nor Potter had their parents.
"Well, I think it's going to be brilliant." Draco said, beaming to try to change the mood.
Draco, Potter and Weasley all started to devise a plan to basically go and stalk Quirrell later that night. Draco told them to simply follow his lead to find Quirrell, who would either be in his study or in his classroom and the rest of it would just come to them.
With all the excitement of Quirrell going on, Draco almost forgot that he had ran away from home on Christmas without even saying a word to his parents.
The remainder of the day went along rather smoothly, which surprised Draco because he figured his parents would have tried to find him by now. It bothered him slightly that he had already been gone from home for several hours and they hadn't found him yet.
"Checkmate." Draco said, sniggering when he saw the furious look that fell over the Weasley's face.
"I hate you." The red head supplied, leaning back on his hands. They were both sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, a wizarding chess board in front of them. "I admit though, you're good at this."
Draco shrugged, "My mother taught me how to play." Narcissa had told him that he needed to know how to strategize and that wizard's chest was a good way to learn how.
Potter was sitting on the couch, sprawled out staring at the ceiling, looking absolutely bored out of his mind. They still had a little while before they wanted to go and spy on Quirrell, but the exhilaration of actually getting somewhere with his suspicions overclouded Draco's thoughts of his parents.
Well, he thought it did anyway.
"Draco, why are you here?" Potter asked, sitting up and scratching his head. His green eyes were staring at Draco strangely, almost as if he could tell something was wrong.
Draco glanced over at Potter smoothly, not wanting to deal with whatever conversation the other boy was trying to start. The day had gone by well so far and he didn't want to ruin it with the mention of his parents. "My parents have some business to attend to so we decided that it would probably be best if I just came back to Hogwarts."
Weasley raised an eyebrow, "I have six siblings, you're going to have to lie better than that." He said while grinning.
"I'm not lying. I decided that it would just be best if I came back to Hogwarts for the remainder of break." Draco said calmly, despite his heartbeat rising. He couldn't talk about any of it yet, he didn't want to. Least of all with Potter and Weasley.
"You can tell us." Potter insisted, "We're all friends."
Weasley snorted but was immediately glared at by Potter. The red head groaned, "Fine, you're not the worst in the world." He said, "So what in the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
Draco stopped himself from laughing, "How many times have you said bloody hell today?" He asked, trying to steer the conversation in any different direction. He glanced between the two boys who were staring at him expectantly and sighed on the inside – were they his friends? Were Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley his friends? He supposed he got along with them, for the most part besides Weasley at times but he did spend enough time with them.
That didn't change the fact that he didn't want to talk to anyone about what he had overheard.
"You're scared." Potter said, sounding as if he had solved a mystery. He walked over to sit on the floor beside Draco and Weasley in front of the hearth and stared at Draco, "You can tell us what it is, we won't tell anyone."
Draco outright laughed, the irony wasn't lost to him. "Apparently, it's not that huge of a secret anyway." He looked at Weasley then, his throat feeling constricted. He felt as if bile was starting to fill his throat, "You were right apparently." He said bitterly, his mother's words coming back to the forefront of his mind.
Weasley raised an eyebrow, "Right about what?" He asked slowly.
Draco took a deep breath; his thoughts all of a sudden turned to mush. He didn't want to think or feel and he didn't want to talk. Talking about it made it too real and Draco didn't want it to be. He didn't want his father to be evil and he didn't want Neville to not have parents because of his family.
He felt hot all of a sudden and he placed his head in his hands, not caring that he more than likely looked weak and ridiculous. He couldn't handle any of it, it was as if at every turn there was a new surprise and Draco hated it. Was there a reason that his life kept throwing things at him that he couldn't quite catch?
"You were right about my father." Draco finally said, not looking up to meet their eyes. He didn't want to look at them, he didn't even want to be there but of course he was trapped and there was no way he would be able to avoid the two of them forever. They would bother him until he told them what happened. He also didn't want to see the look of glee on the Weasley's face of knowing he was right.
"I'm sorry." Weasley said slowly, and when Draco looked up he saw that there weren't any looks of glee, only disappointment, "I wish I wasn't right."
Draco shrugged, "Oh well. There you go Weasley, you were right. You were right that my father was a bloody no good follower of You-Know-Who." He glanced over at Potter, who was frowning at Draco.
"How do you know?" Potter said, "Maybe you're wrong."
"Do you really think I am Potter?" He raised an eyebrow at the boy, and when Potter said nothing he nodded. "Exactly."
Neither of them said anything for a few moments and Draco glanced back at the wizard chess board in front of him. He had just told Weaslebee and Potter that his father was an ex Death Eater. He could only imagine what that did for his own image.
"That doesn't change that your parents love you." Potter said quietly.
"I know." Draco said slowly, shaking his head. "It just makes me feel different about them."
All three of them were quiet for a moment, all just staring at the fire. Draco couldn't believe he had just shared that with them – he hadn't even had an entire day to process it himself and yet he told them. Maybe they actually were his friends.
"Good evening boys."
The three of them jumped at the sudden voice and when they turned over to the entrance of the common room they saw Professor Dumbledore smiling at them.
"Good evening Professor." Potter said, a smile breaking out on his face.
"I trust you're enjoying your Holiday." Dumbledore said, not moving from his spot. His twinkling eyes landed on Draco's form and he felt his chest tighten. "Draco, could I see you for a moment?"
Draco swallowed hard, his parents were probably in Dumbledore's office waiting for him. He ignored the looks that both Potter and Weasley sent him and stood up, ignoring how heavy his legs felt. Could he get expelled for coming back to school? He hadn't snuck in and it was illegal for a minor to floo by themselves. When he was standing beside the headmaster they both walked out into the corridor to stand a few feet away from the fat lady.
"You are not supposed to be here Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said softly, "Your parents are concerned."
"I don't care." Draco said, and he meant it. He didn't care if they were concerned for him or not, he still didn't want to see them. He hadn't had enough time to process what he had heard to even think to speak to them about it. He wasn't going to give them the opportunity to try and weasel their way out of what he heard.
"They are aware that you used the floo to Hogsmeade and that you are now safe within Hogwarts, they wish for you to come home."
Draco quickly shook his head, "I don't want to go." He said, his stomach twisting with the idea of leaving and going back home.
"Draco, your parents are worried about you. I'm sure that whatever is the reasoning behind this is can all be worked out." Dumbledore said, his smile as gentle as ever. He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed it, as if encouraging him.
"I found out who my parents are today Professor." Draco said quietly, "I overheard them talking… I just don't think I can face them right now."
Dumbledore nodded, "I see." He said slowly, "Running from your problems only gives them more time to chase you and get bigger."
"Please professor, I don't want to see them." Draco said more forcefully. His stomach dropped and his throat began to feel as if it was closing up – he couldn't go back yet.
"I will speak to your parents," Dumbledore said quietly, "However, if they still wish for you to come home, you will have to go."
Draco nodded, "I understand professor."
"Very well." Dumbledore nodded at him and then turned to leave, "And Draco – things are not what they always appear to be."
Draco smiled, not understanding why Dumbledore would try to make him feel better about something that everyone apparently knew was true, "And sometimes professor, they're exactly what they look like."
Dumbledore walked away a moment later, leaving Draco standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. He didn't even have to say the password before she swung the door open for him. He walked back in and saw that both Weasley and Potter were still in their places.
"You're in trouble, huh?" Potter asked as Draco walked back over to sit next to them.
"When isn't he in trouble?" Weasley said, grinning. "You're always doing something Malfoy."
Draco grinned, still feeling uneasy, "I supposed I can't help myself." He looked at Potter then and shook his head, "But I don't think I am this time."
"Well good because it's time to go and spy on Quirrell." The-Boy-Who-Lived said while grinning, standing up and walking over to grab the cloak that was sitting on the couch.
"You better be sure of this Malfoy. Snape might be your godfather but he's still evil." Weasley said, standing up to join Potter.
Draco stood as well, shaking his head. "Snape is not evil – he's just harsh."
"And irrational." Potter added.
"And he plays favorites." Weasley offered.
"And rude."
"Don't forget creepy."
Draco glared at both of them, "Quit it." He said warningly, "Snape may be different but he isn't evil."
"Whatever you say Malfoy." Weasley said.
"Come on, let's get this over with." Potter said, nearly bouncing from foot to foot.
Draco ignored their comments, too excited that he was about to spy on Quirrell. The cloak was big enough to cover all three of them thankfully and they walked out of the common room and into the corridor outside.
"We should check his office first, right?" Potter whispered, the light from the windows shining in the corridor.
"Shouldn't we wait until its dark?" Weasley asked.
"I don't think it matters." Draco answered, "The castle is mostly empty anyway."
"How do we know he's even here?" Weasley nearly whined.
"Shut up." Draco muttered, earning him a light shove from the redhead. Draco shoved him back. "I'm warning you Weasley."
"Will you two shut up?" Potter snapped, dragging both Draco and Weasley from their bickering. "Let's check his office first."
They all nodded in agreement and the three of them made their way down to the second floor. When they were finally done going down the changing staircases Draco nearly huffed.
"I swear to Merlin Weasley if you don't quit stepping on my heels I am going to hex you into tomorrow." Draco snarled as quietly as he could. He couldn't believe how clumsily the red head walked; it was as if he had never done it before.
"Stop walking so slow then!" Weasley whispered heatedly.
"Shut up!" Potter hissed. "You two are going to have to quit fighting so we can do this."
Draco narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Potter was right; the only way to spy on Quirrell without getting noticed was to be as quiet as possible. He looked at Weasley then, "No more warning then." Draco threatened, "If you step on my heel one more time I'm going to punch you with no warning."
"And get your pretty hands dirty?" Weasley laughed, "Please."
"Have you forgotten last time?" Draco asked innocently.
Weasley was about to protest when Potter pushed both of them, "I swear I'm going to leave you both behind if you don't shut up!"
Weasley and Draco glared at each other but didn't say another word. The three of them slowly walked into the DADA classroom and saw that Quirrell was nowhere to be found. They walked toward the small staircase that led to his office however and slowly made their way up the stairs, which was quite difficult since both Draco and Weasley kept shoving each other slightly. They made it up there eventually and walked forward to the open door to see that Quirrell was sitting at his desk, head placed in his hands.
The office was a small oval room with only a desk which was scattered with papers and some bookcases. There was a window on the other side of the room but the drapes were drawn shut, blocking out the light.
Draco was grinning when Weasley and Potter glanced at him. He couldn't believe that he was finally having the chance to clear Snape's name.
It was quiet for the longest time, and Weasley and Potter kept giving Draco looks of disbelief. Draco ignored them and continued staring at Quirrell; he knew that it was bound to happen at some point.
"Someone is watching you." A voice said, making all three of them freeze. Draco felt he hairs on the back of his neck stand up from the familiar raspy and icy voice, a voice that didn't belong to Quirrell but came from his counsel.
"We're alone Master." Quirrell said, glancing around. "No one is here."
"I can sense them." The voice rasped out.
Quirrell looked around once more and then stood up, "I assure you Master, we are alone." Quirrell walked toward the door, making Draco, Potter and Weasley scoot back from the doorway and onto the platform. He stepped out and glanced around his classroom and then walked back into his office, making the three of them sigh in relief.
"I can sense the boy." The voice rasped out once more, "I can sense him."
Potter suddenly grabbed his head with one hand and Draco quickly placed his hand over the other boy's mouth so he couldn't scream. He watched as Potter's scar glowed a violent red between Potter's fingers and felt his eyes go wide. Potter was almost doubling over in pain but was supported by both Draco and Weasley.
Draco glanced at Weasley, and nodded toward the stairs. The redhead nodded at him and the two of them supported Potter until they reached the staircase and slowly they stepped down each stair, being as quiet as they could. The pain seemed to subside when they were standing in the classroom and Potter removed his hand from his forehead, breathing heavily.
They walked out of the classroom and Potter immediately threw the cloak off of them and stared at Draco in fear. "What was that?" he breathed, placing a hand on his head. "It's never hurt so bad before."
Draco shook his head, "I don't know." He replied. He still has the chills – that was the most evil sounding voice that he had ever heard.
"One thing's for sure though." Weasley said, "There is something definitely wrong with Quirrell."
They all stared at each other for a moment. Draco felt more terrified than when he had seen the three headed dog. What was going on there? Who was talking to Quirrell and why had Potter's scar nearly set on fire?
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I know it took me awhile to post but at least a few different things happened, I've had a lot of fun writing original scenes lately and I need to stop writing more of them before the story isn't fun to read anymore.
If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please let me know. I tried to edit it, but I know I make mistakes.
Please review!
-C