Chapter Thirteen

July 31st, 1996

The Malfoys were brought into Grimmauld Place once Dumbledore had shown up. Other than a few distrusting glares, the teenagers had no contact with the family of two. Two. Because, apparently, Lucius Malfoy had been killed in an attempt to free his family from Voldemort.

"I don't get it," Harry said angrily as they sat on the staircase, staring at the door that had been closed and Silenced from the other side. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were being interviewed via Legilimency and Veritaserum—at Moody's insistence—leaving everyone who was not a member of the Order outside, wondering what on earth had happened. "Lucius Malfoy was there, at the Department of Mysteries. Hell, he led the charge! He was the one who cursed Lupin! Well, him and Bellatrix. I don't buy it. There's no way he would have defected from—"

"Quiet," Remus said, squinting as he focused.

"Are you . . .?" Hermione gasped. "Remus! Can you hear them?!"

"Not if everyone keeps yelling."

Ron grinned, looking impressed. "Bloody hell. You can hear through Silencing Charms?"

Remus nodded. "If they're not too intricate. Plus the full moon was just last night. All my senses are basically hyper alert right now. Yelling hurts, by the way," he added quietly as an afterthought and grimaced when all three of his new friends looked guilty for their outbursts. "I think Tonks put up the Silencing Charm. She's brilliant at a lot of things but sloppy at others." He noted the way Hermione blushed, knowing that he was referencing the fact that he'd been able to overhear Tonks and Lupin having sex.

"What's happening?" Harry eagerly asked.

Remus concentrated again, listening in on the Order meeting and feeling only slightly guilty for it. In all honesty, he was thrilled at the familiar feeling of mischief settling in his chest. It was the same feeling he got anytime James would throw his Invisibility Cloak over them, or the first time Sirius managed to properly complete a Disillusionment Charm so they could sneak to the kitchens during the three month period where Peter had lost the cloak somewhere under his bed.

On the other side of the door, the members of the Order surrounded the Malfoys. Alastor Moody was leading the angry charge, suspicious despite having interviewed both under Veritaserum—illegally, as the young Malfoy bitterly reminded him. Tonks was in Auror mode, taking notes and generally being at Moody's beck and call, keeping an eye on her cousin and aunt just in case this was some sort of trick. Lupin was assisting Molly in the kitchen, as the ginger witch—heartbroken to see the grief in Narcissa and Draco's faces, despite being on the wrong side of the war—did what she did best in times of crisis, and set out to fix a meal to help provide comfort where it was possible. For all Sirius claimed to hate his family, at least most of them, he had not let go of Narcissa's trembling hand since the moment she had fallen into his arms in front of the house.

"You have to understand," she said, doing her best to rein in her shattered dignity despite the heavy, and far too recent, grief digging away at her heart. "I understand that there were choices available, and Lucius could have . . . we could have aligned ourselves with you from the beginning, or at the very least, since the Dark Lord's return, but that's just not—"

"Not everyone is a bloody Gryffindor," Draco interrupted his mother, reaching out to take her free hand. "The Dark Lord came right to our home once he returned last summer. Were we to just send him on his way? Him and all of his followers with wands sworn to his cause?"

Before Mad-Eye could say a word—and he looked like he really wanted to—Dumbledore jumped in with a soft smile. "We all have our reasons for making choices, good or bad. The past is the past, and the future is what's important now. Healing from this awful tragedy in your lives, and perhaps helping so that others will not have to suffer similarly at the hand of Voldemort." He frowned when both mother and son flinched at the use of the Dark Lord's name. "Try not to feel guilty, Draco. Your father—"

"Don't tell me what I feel," the boy snapped. "My father is dead because he refused to let the Dark Lord make me one of them. Because he . . . Because he wanted me to . . ."

Narcissa squeezed his hand. "He was angry, so angry, to find out that Bella had been arrested along with the others in the Department of Mysteries. Lucius was one of few who escaped, and he was in charge of retrieving that blasted prophecy. To come home empty handed and have lost so many of the Dark Lord's followers. It might have been better if Lucius had been arrested. At least then he would be . . ."

Draco reached into the pocket of his robes, retrieving a silk handkerchief for his mother. "Some followers he could do without, but Aunt Bella was his most loyal. When others started wavering in their support or loyalty, it was she who would rally them. Not many saw her for what she really was."

Sirius frowned. "Azkaban has a way of . . . It poisons the soul. Bleeds you dry and drives you mad."

"How did you manage for so long?" Narcissa asked him.

"I knew I was innocent. Bellatrix revelled in the fact that she wasn't."

Narcissa nodded, swallowed, and then looked back up at Dumbledore, unafraid to make eye contact with the powerful Legilimens. What did she have to fear after her mind had been repeatedly infiltrated by the Dark Lord over the past year? "When Lucius returned to tell the Dark Lord of Bellatrix's arrest, he went mad. At first, he tried to recover, but the prophecy had been lost as well and . . . You've truly no idea how badly the Dark Lord wanted—needed—that prophecy. With it gone, as well as a good portion of his inner circle, he started sending the others out into Muggle cities to attack at random."

"The Brockdale Bridge?" Tonks asked. "The one that collapsed?"

Narcissa nodded.

"He was responsible for the death of that Ministry witch," Draco added. "Bones."

"Amelia," Moody said angrily. "And Emmeline Vance?"

Draco nodded his head. "Her too."

"When nothing was getting done to properly advance his cause, he turned inward," Narcissa explained. "Blamed his followers for their ineptitude, Lucius mostly because he was responsible for retrieving the prophecy about Potter—" She paused when Sirius released her hand at the mention of his godson, as though he had been reminded that she was not on the right side yet.

Her hand lingered in the air for a moment, and Dumbledore tried to fill the void, reaching for the woman, but her icy blue eyes caught sight of his blackened hand, and she recoiled, instead grasping the glass of water in front of her and taking a sip before speaking once again.

"It was suddenly Lucius's fault for the Dark Lord's failures. The prophecy, Bella's return to Azkaban . . . He even started accusing my husband for his original downfall. Saying that he hadn't worked hard enough to prevent . . ." She stopped mid-sentence, noting that Sirius's demeanour grew colder at the mention of the first war.

"He asked—demanded—for Draco. Said that the son would suffer the sins of the father, and if Lucius couldn't redeem himself, then perhaps Draco could. But we . . . Lucius knew what it really meant. Punishment." She turned her head toward her son, holding tight to his hand with one of hers, while her free fingers affectionately touched the unblemished skin of his left forearm. "My husband may not have been a good man by your standards," she said coolly, "but he was a good husband and father."

Dumbledore looked at Draco. "Did he tell you how you were to redeem your family?"

Draco was tense and cold and did not even blink as he met the gaze of the old wizard. He waited patiently until Narcissa squeezed his hand in silent confirmation before speaking. "There's a cabinet in the Come and Go Room. One of my Housemates was thrown into it by the Weasley twins last year—"

"They did what?" Molly shrieked from the kitchen, and Arthur stood and left the room to go and calm his wife.

Draco cleared his throat and returned his attention to the headmaster. "The cabinet has a twin at Borgin and Burkes. I was supposed to go there and purchase it, but leave it at the shop. The cabinet at Hogwarts is broken, but when mended, it would provide—"

"Safe passage from Knockturn Alley into Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, finishing Draco's sentence for him. "Marvellous," he said, as though he had just been shown a bit of entertaining magic. "And once inside?"

"They . . . I . . ." Draco started, his gaze finally wavering, flickering to the table. "I was to kill . . . you."

As though he had made an actual threat against Dumbledore, Moody was right at Draco's side, wand drawn.

Dumbledore, however, raised a hand to still the paranoid Auror. "Calm down, Alastor. The boy only offered truth when I requested it. As you can see, I am perfectly well," he added, pulling his blackened hand beneath the sleeve of his robe as he spoke. When Moody retreated, like an angry attack dog who had long lost his usefulness, Dumbledore smiled at the Malfoys. "Your honesty and bravery are appreciated."

"It's not bravery," Draco spat, the word sounding bitter. "We came here to you because we had nowhere else to go. My father openly defied the Dark Lord when we were caught trying to escape our own home." He angrily looked down again, holding his mother's hand even tighter. "We had to have a bloody house-elf Apparate us out of our own wards because he'd locked us in. Made us watch while he . . ."

"Molly?" Dumbledore called. "Do you happen to have any of those delightful chocolate biscuits of yours? I just realised that I'd skipped dinner this evening. The mind of an old man tends to wander."

Molly came into the room with a tender smile, a large plate of biscuits in one hand while the other levitated a pot of tea and several cups. She set everything down and then, without a word, smiled sympathetically at Narcissa as she poured tea for the woman, offering it to her like the olive branch that it was. Everyone watched the silent exchange as the blonde gave the smallest nod of gratitude and accepted the cup. Molly looked nearly overjoyed at the reception, as though she had just handfed a venomous snake and came away without a bite; instead having made a new friend.

Draco, clearly hungry, reached for one of the biscuits.

"Those are an old family recipe," Molly said proudly. "I almost didn't have it in me to part with, but Hermione was so excited to learn how to make them."

The Slytherin's hand stilled over the plate as though he was suddenly contemplating whether or not to partake, knowing that they had been made by a Muggle-born. Instead of looking angry or disgusted, he actually looked nervous, almost frightened. Everyone noticed.

Sirius's eyes narrowed at the boy. "You want a safe harbour? Muggle-borns come with the package. All or nothing, mate," he said and reached across the table, grabbing the plate and pulling it toward Draco. "Eat up."

Draco hesitantly grabbed a biscuit and brought it to his mouth, letting out a slow sigh of relief as he chewed and swallowed.

"We'll need to destroy that cabinet, Albus," Moody said. "Before he finds some other idiot kid to do the job."

The young, blond wizard narrowed his eyes at the Auror. "He won't. My mother and I both knew the plan, and if he knows we're here, and he does," he clarified, "then it's only obvious that we would tell you everything we knew. His plans for infiltrating Hogwarts that way are useless now."

"Is he planning on marking any other children?" Lupin asked as he entered the room behind Arthur, nodding a thanks to Molly as she handed him a cup of tea.

Draco shook his head. "Too risky. It was one thing to mark me and have no one know about it. But now that I've revealed his plan . . . For all the Dark Lord is aware, you'll have Filch checking forearms as students exit the Hogwarts Express. Still, he may still use some of them, marked or not."

"Who?" Moody demanded.

Draco closed his eyes, looking pained to betray his Housemates. "They haven't done anything yet."

"And we will not treat them as enemies," Dumbledore said, looking at Moody. "Will we Alastor?" The old Auror scoffed but then, after a stern look from the older wizard, backed down. "Young Messrs Goyle, Crabbe, and Nott should be looked after. Unmarked Death Eaters are in just as much danger as any other young witch or wizard."

Draco looked briefly shocked that Dumbledore already knew the names of the Slytherins most likely to be given an order by the Dark Lord. Then again, it should not have come as a surprise considering their fathers had been arrested in the Department of Mysteries and were known Death Eaters.

"We have much to do," Dumbledore said as he stood. "Mrs Malfoy, Mr Malfoy, I am so very grateful to know that you have both made it safely out of your home, and you have my deepest condolences for your loss. Sirius, can you see to their comforts?"

Sirius nodded. "Cissy, you can have my mother's old room. It's the only one Kreacher kept perfectly clean, but I've not put it to use since coming back here."

Narcissa offered a tight smile and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, cousin."

"As for you," Sirius said, looking at Draco and sighing. "Can't put you up in the boys' room. I reckon, right side now or not, you and Harry would likely kill each other before the night's over if you're left alone in the same room." Draco's sneer confirmed his suspicion.

"Leave Ron with Harry for the night," Lupin suggested, looking to Arthur and Molly. "That is, if it's all right that he stay here."

Molly nodded. "That'll be fine. He's been a bit of a useless mess with Fleur at the Burrow anyway," she said, looking annoyed. "It would do him some good to spend some time away from her."

"Draco can stay with Remus, then." Both Narcissa and Draco looked up, brows furrowed as they stared first at Sirius as he spoke, then turned their attention in confusion toward Lupin. "Not him," Sirius clarified. "His son's here with us. Kid's mum died so he's transferring to Hogwarts this year."

Outside the door, back on the stairs, Remus relayed the conversation to the trio. "So I guess I've got a new roommate," he said and looked back at his friends. "Anything I should know about Draco Malfoy?"

Ron's face was red with anger, and Harry was actually growling. Hermione nervously bit her lower lip and avoided Remus's gaze.

Remus frowned, eyes wide and anxious. "Merlin, how bad is this bloke?"

While the Malfoys were fed a late dinner, Harry, Ron, Remus, and Hermione were asked to help clean out Regulus Black's old room so that it could be converted into a bedroom for Remus and Draco. Remus and Hermione Scourgified the surfaces and blankets, transfigured the one large bed into two smaller ones, and freshened the drapes, while Harry and Ron pulled all of the Voldemort and Death Eater propaganda from the walls, both looking horrified at the things they found.

"I can't believe Sirius's brother was a Death Eater," Ron said with disgust as he tore away a Daily Prophet article—one of many in a large collage—that showed the Dark Mark hovering above a house in London.

"Sirius told me about him," Harry said. "He joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave—so they killed him."

"I knew Regulus," Remus said sadly. "Quiet kid. Smart but obviously lost." He sighed loudly, walking across the room and picking up a photograph: a Hogwarts Quidditch team was smiling and waving out of the frame. "Sirius was a mess when Regulus was Sorted into Slytherin. They tried to stay close for a while, but their parents wouldn't stand for it. Regulus was their last shot at a proper pureblood heir," he said in a mocking tone. "And Sirius was a bad influence on him."

"Sirius is a bad influence on everyone," Harry said proudly, and everyone turned and grinned at him.

"Should we charm everything in here red and gold?" Ron suggested with a chuckle.

Hermione frowned, pursing her lips in disapproval. "Ron, I think we should leave it. Malfoy may be a, well . . . he's Malfoy," she said with a heavy sigh, "but he's just lost his father. You saw how heartbroken his mother was. Death Eater or not, they were a family."

"Yeah, but he's—"

"It doesn't matter. You'll stay out of his way and not say a word. You've still got both of your parents. Try to work up a bit of sympathy for him. Remember when your father was attacked last year?"

Ron frowned. "Fine. I'll just not say anything to the ferret. But if he calls you a—"

"I imagine if he does," Hermione interrupted, "then one of the adults will handle him. It's not our place."

A few minutes later, Sirius brought Draco up to the room, hands on the boy's shoulders as he directed him right past Harry and Ron, who stopped to make eye contact with the Slytherin once before giving him a curt nod and going on their way. Hermione looked relieved, and Sirius looked almost amused at the lack of a fight breaking out between the boys.

"Here we are," Sirius said and looked around the room, swallowing down obvious bits of grief that lingered from years of pent-up anger over his brother's Death Eater status and subsequent murder. "You kids did a good job cleaning up the place."

"Malfoy," Hermione said, greeting the blond.

"Granger."

There was tension in the room that was thick and uncomfortable, and Sirius let out a low whistle before stepping back. "Right then, I'll let you at it," he said and smiled before exiting, leaving the door cracked open.

Hermione fidgeted as she looked between Remus and Draco. "I should get to bed. Long day tomorrow . . . revising and . . . such." She rolled her eyes when Draco snorted at her mention of revising during summer hols. "Goodnight, Remus."

He grinned at her. "Do you want me to, umm . . ." he said, wincing a bit as he gestured to the door.

She raised a brow and chuckled. "Walk me to my door? I think I can make it on my own. I hope your manners rub off on Harry and Ron, though." She looked like she wanted to reach out for him, give him a hug goodnight, but Draco stood between them, and she hesitated long enough that it was awkward to do anything other than leave.

Once the door was shut, Remus turned to the Slytherin and held out his hand. "Remus Lupin."

Draco stared at the proffered hand. "The werewolf's son, right?"

Remus's nose twitched. "Right," he said, keeping his hand held out. "Problem with that?"

The blond shrugged his shoulders. "As long as you don't hump my leg in my sleep, I think I'll be fine."

Remus scoffed and almost laughed, shocked when the boy eventually took his hand in greeting, shaking it.

"Draco Malfoy, though I suspect Granger, Weasel, and Scarhead already told you all you need to know about me," he angrily quipped.

Remus smirked at the names and rolled his eyes. Blond hair or not, the kid was obviously related to Sirius. Remus imagined he wouldn't like having that pointed out to him. "Right. Well, I'm new here myself, and I make my own judgements about people. As far as I'm concerned, you and I start from scratch."

Draco just nodded, tired eyes looking around the room. "Right," he said after a minute of silence. "You'll be a Gryffindor, for certain."

Remus chuckled, not needing to tell the boy that he already was one. "Like I said: scratch."

They readied themselves for bed in perfect silence. Draco slipped into pyjamas that had been set aside for him, old ones that belonged to Regulus, cleaned and freshened by Hermione. Remus slipped into his own clothes—borrowed from Sirius's closet since he still didn't have anything of his own—and cracked open an Advanced Defence book for a little light reading before bed. Draco found an old book on Charms on the nearby bookshelf, and the two quietly read to themselves before sleep began pricking at their eyes.

"Lights out?" Remus asked when Draco closed his book. The Slytherin nodded, and Remus turned out the nearby lamp.

In the dark, the silence was overwhelming, and Remus took the chance to fill it. "Hey, Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"I know I said that you and I are starting things from scratch, and I'll do my best not to let anything Ron or Harry say about you influence my own opinion . . ."

"But?"

"But if I hear you call Hermione a Mudblood, I'll smother you in your sleep."

There was a long pause before Draco replied, "Noted."

August 1st, 1996

The Hogwarts letters all arrived the following morning. Everyone gathered downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast, though Narcissa remained upstairs, secluded in Walburga Black's old bedroom, still grieving the death of her husband. Draco, however, forced himself to make an appearance, wearing a look on his face that said he was there to prove a point and not appear weak in front of the enemy. By the looks that Ron and Harry were giving him, the enemy was still exactly what he was.

The Slytherin had paled somewhat when the owls came in, a letter of his own in tow. "They can get in?" he asked, looking scared.

"Just the owls," Remus assured him. "Not even the Ministry can find this place without Dumbledore telling them."

A bit more relaxed, Malfoy tore into his envelope along with everyone else, examining their letters, complete with booklists and three prefect badges for Hermione, Ron, and Draco, who would continue on in their duties from the year prior. A Quidditch Captain badge fell out of both Harry's and Draco's letters with a loud thunk on the table. Both boys looked up at one another and narrowed their eyes competitively.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted in delight later on as the teens made their way out of the kitchen, the Gryffindors going up the stairs, and Draco making his way down toward the library. "This means you can keep me on the team!"

Harry frowned, looking uncomfortable.

"He'll have to hold tryouts, Ron," Hermione said. "He can't just openly show favouritism like that. It wouldn't be fair."

Ron scoffed. "Yeah, but I'm the best, anyhow."

Remus chuckled, and Hermione ignored them both. "Harry, this gives you equal status with prefects," she exclaimed. "You can even use our special bathroom now and everything!"

"It's a nice bathroom," Remus echoed her excitement. "After the . . . after the moon, there's nothing better," he admitted.

Hermione frowned. "Oh. I didn't even think. I'm so sorry, Remus. You're not a prefect anymore, and now you won't—"

He laughed hard. "Hermione, if you think I'm not still getting in that bathroom, you're out of your mind," he said firmly. "Prefect or not, there are some things I am not giving up."

She pursed her lips, and Harry and Ron were smirking, waiting to see if she would allow for this blatant admission of future rule breaking. "And if I don't give you the password?" she asked, trying to hold her stern expression though he could already see the crinkles at the corners of her eyes.

Remus shrugged. "Then I've got another prefect friend and a newly made Quidditch Captain who'll be more than happy to share it with me, I imagine."

Harry and Ron laughed, and Hermione rolled her eyes at all three boys.

Later that afternoon, Molly called everyone down for lunch, muttering under her breath about Fleur and Bill, and quietly scolding Ginny to behave herself. "I don't care what you think of the boy, you'll be on your best behaviour while you're here, Ginevra, or else I will take you straight home. You can spend the afternoon trying to teach that woman your brother thinks he's going to marry proper English."

Hermione cleared her throat as they stepped through the door, announcing themselves. Molly jumped at the noise and stood up straight, smiling brightly at the teens. "Oh, lunch is on the table, eat up now, eat up," she encouraged them all. "Draco, dear, would you like to take a plate to your mother?"

He shook his head. "She says she's not hungry."

Molly frowned. "Maybe I'll bring her up some tea later on. Did you get your prefect badges?" she asked Ron and Hermione, though her tone of voice implied that she already knew the answer and had ulterior motives of bringing the subject up.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mum's just upset because I didn't get made prefect like you lot."

"Nearly everyone in the family became prefects," Molly muttered.

"Fred and George didn't," Ginny pointed out but that did not seem to help her argument.

Harry looked up from his bacon sandwich. "Why do you think you didn't get it, Ginny?"

She smirked. "Probably got caught hexing one too many times last year," she said, looking at Draco who glared at her.

"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these," Molly sighed, looking down at Ron's booklist when he held it out to her, along with his prefect badge so that she could shine it up for him. "We'll go on Saturday, as long as your father doesn't have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him."

"Mum, d'you honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?" Ron sniggered, unaware of the way that Draco suddenly tensed.

"Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they?" Molly snapped at her son. "If you think security's a laughing matter you can stay behind, and I'll get your things myself."

"Please excuse me," Draco said and stood up, clearing his plate and leaving the kitchen as quickly as possible.

"What's his hurry?" Sirius asked as Draco passed him on the way out. He sat down between Harry and Remus, swiping pieces of bacon from their plates.

"I think he's worried he'll be attacked when we go to Diagon Alley for our things," Hermione said quietly.

Ron blanched. "Since when is he coming with us? Are we going to be forced to hang out with the ferret all year as well?"

Molly sighed irritably and was grateful when Sirius answered for her. "Just until you go back to Hogwarts. Though, I suppose it would be helpful if you kept an eye on him. It's not going to be easy because his whole House will know what happened this summer. Slytherins are loyal to their own, but there's a limit to everything."

Just then, Bill stepped through the door with a smile on his face and several bags of coins in hand. "Chew, Ron," he suggested to his brother who looked like he could choke on his sandwich at any moment. He flung one of the bags of gold across the table to Harry, handing the others out to everyone. "I got these out ahead of time because it's taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment. The goblins have tightened security. Two days ago, Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his . . . Well, trust me, this way's easier."

"Thanks, Bill," Harry said, pocketing the gold.

"Wait!" Sirius snapped. "The Probity Probe actually probes?!"