Disclaimer: I do not claim to own the Harry Potter series or any of its related topics. Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and in respect to its creator, this fan fiction was created for entertainment purposes only, and is not part of the official story line. The plot is mine and any other characters you do not recognize. No reader/reviewer is authorized to post/translate this story anywhere else without my permission.
A/N: This story discards everything that happened in Book 6 and 7.
Title: Alexander Draco Malfoy
Author: Aoi Megami
Beta Reader: ladyelainemalfoy
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Astoria Greengrass' Deceit
Hermione Malfoy née Granger had always prided herself for being a very patient woman. It took a lot to get her angry or how else could she have tolerated Ron all those years of mood swings back at school? Not to mention Draco's arrogance and Snape's one-sided—well, you get the point. She did have pet peeves that could push her over the edge in an instant. To mention a few were; betrayal, one's personal stand against the equality of house elves, intentionally trying to hurt one of her love ones, and to add to that list: an imminent death of a love one.
So she snapped.
She grabbed her wand and dug it into the throat of their unsuspecting guest from the future. The younger boy backed up towards the wall with his hands raised and his eyes wide open in shock. Harry was quick to reach her side, trying to calm her down, but not moving to take her wand away and to risk her casting a spell that may decapitate the boy's head.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked his tone coated in panic.
"Did this happen in the future?" she growled. She knew the consequences of learning too much information from the future; she did have a first-hand experience, which was why it took a lot of self-control not to shower the future kid with questions when he arrived the first time.
But Merlin was she desperate. If this had happened in the future, then there might be a solution, a way to save Draco. She was willing to take a risk.
"Tell me now!" she demanded.
"Hermione!" Harry scolded. "Things are changing since his arrival—"
"The same events could still happen but with different consequences," she argued.
"He wouldn't know!" Harry was desperate.
"Then this is his fault?" Hermione's voice cracked and tears gathered in her eyes.
"Hermione!" Harry scolded.
"Is Draco in this situation because of him?" She went on. It was a low blow, she knew it, and she could see the regret in the boy's eyes. She lowered her wand and slumped to the floor, her shoulders drooping in defeat.
Xander watched his mother's broken form. Was it his fault? Was this the consequence of messing with Time? Twice. Was 'not existing' his punishment? He did say that he wouldn't care if it came to that, but now that the end was before him, he couldn't help but feel… scared.
Xander dropped to the floor right next to his mother. "I'm sorry," he apologized. He didn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry."
Hermione turned her head to look at him, her honey brown eyes clashing with his metallic silver ones. Her breath hitched and she gasped. Dumbledore's warning rang in her head. She suddenly remembered that day, when Dumbledore had warned her to not over think the boy's identity. That he was to be trusted explicitly. In other words; don't think about doing a background check on the boy.
Harry stared at Hermione after hearing her short intake of breath. He knew that look; that calculating look where she was piecing the pieces together to form an answer. A very dangerous answer. The back of his mind screamed; get her back on track.
"Malfoy," Harry blurted suddenly through the quietness of the room. Hermione looked at him as if she was lost and was trying to figure out who Harry was. "Time's running out, we need to think of a way to warn Malfoy."
That seemed to do the trick as realization was evident in her eyes. "Blaise," she said.
"What?" Harry and Xander looked at her with puzzled expressions.
"He'll know of a way to get to him," she explained. "We have to tell him," she said urgently.
"One problem," Harry started. "We can't," he shook his head. All it took was one penetrating glare from his female best friend for him to quickly add, "Okay, I'll go get him." And he rushed out of the room, leaving the two in an uncomfortable silence.
After a while, Hermione whispered, "I'm sorry."
"No need," Xander returned with a smile. A more comfortable silence engulfed them.
After a moment, after thinking things thoroughly, Hermione gasped.
"What?" Xander asked, startled by her sudden reaction.
"Marcus Flint was caught," she stated. Xander nodded in assurance. "He was magically bound, and Draco managed to give him a hair cut," she went on.
"Yeah, so?"
"Wouldn't that mean Draco overpowered Flint?" she looked at him. It took a few seconds before the meaning of her words dawned on the both of them. Both their eyes comically widened at the same time.
"Harry!" they both stood and rushed out of the room in search for the aforementioned man.
He processed all of the information at his disposal. The Dark Lord was eager to know who had killed the Order's leader. The attack was solely to have Dumbledore killed. They had eyes on him, the Order had a traitor, or how else would they know that he had returned? In addition, the attack weakened the Order what with Grimmauld Place being their first base of operation. All information they had were piled up in there, and it all went up in smoke.
From what he saw in the earlier attack, the group consisted with a few important high ranked Death Eaters, but mostly snatchers, with it being a suicide mission after all. So why would it matter who killed Dumbledore? Was it to give others determination? No, they were already ruled by fear; the Dark Lord didn't need to give them strength.
From what he could tell—with all the fear aimed at him and the false respect he received—Marcus Flint was already a part of the inner circle. Who wouldn't be, after he had caught him, Draco Malfoy, as a spy for the Order, and not the other way around?
"Now who was responsible for this great feat?" the Dark Lord bellowed.
It was an opportunity he cannot let go. He gathered what little courage he had left and stepped forward. All eyes were on him. He immediately tightened the walls in his mind before speaking.
"Was it you Flint?" the Dark Lord grinned, waiting for confirmation.
Draco wasn't sure what to say. Yes or no? He's spent a lot of time watching the Dark Lord and the position he was in sent warning bells in his head. And one of the Malfoy genes, which job was to strive to survive, was tinkling. There was something weird going on, and he didn't like it one bit.
The Dark Lord twitched; his pale arm was poised to his side where his wand was tucked. He knew that posture all too well, it was when the Dark Lord is about to do a quick draw and snuff the life out of you.
"No, my Lord," Draco answered. The smile on the Dark Lord's face disappeared. He looked somewhat relieved—like relieved that he didn't have to kill one of his valuable Death Eaters because he would still be of good use, but at the same time, he also looked angrier because he was back to not knowing who killed the Order's Leader.
"Who was it?" the playfulness in the Dark Lord's voice was gone, replaced by that menacing sneer.
"The Snatcher, Scabior," Draco answered. Remembering that annoying Snatcher who suddenly burst into the room when he had just transformed into Marcus Flint.
"Where is he?" the Dark Lord looked hungry as his eyes roamed around the room. Even the Death Eaters and Snatchers were looking around, warily eyeing each other.
What was going on? Obviously, a lot had happened since he was ousted, and he had a lot of work to do to get back on track.
But as he predicted, a brave Snatcher spoke to answer the Dark Lord.
"He is dead my Lord," the unnamed Snatcher said. "When we went back to check on the damage, we saw the Order gathered around his body."
Draco fought the smirk that threatened to show. Message delivered.
"Who killed him?" the Dark Lord's voice echoed around the silent room.
Draco's eyes narrowed at their pacing Leader. Why does it matter who killed whom?
His thoughts were interrupted when Rodolphus Lestrange stepped up. All eyes were on the mad man, waiting for him to deliver his report. This made Draco nervous. When he exited the hallway from Dumbledore's office, his uncle had spotted him as Marcus Flint after regaining consciousness.
Rodolphus Lestrange was the one man who can foil his plans. Through his memories, the Dark Lord can come to a conclusion that he may be lying—which in fact, he was. So that didn't bode too well.
"It was Severus Snape, my Lord," Rodolphus bowed. Draco's heart beat was erratic, but he managed to breathe out a sigh of relief. Nevertheless, due to this blatant lie, more thoughts flooded his head. His brows furrowed in confusion. He was thankful that all the attention was focused on Rodolphus, because his face probably portrayed all his warring emotions.
"Snape?" Voldemort repeated the name. He looked like he didn't trust what Rodolphus Lestrange was saying, and Draco knew that the man was lying.
Draco stared at his uncle. What was the man planning that he actually lied to the man he idolize as much as his own wife did?
Draco guessed that Rodolphus probably opened his mind for the Dark Lord to see because they were both still for a few seconds, not breaking their eye contact.
When Rodolphus' shook his head, Draco guessed that their connection broke. He needed to gather more information if he wanted to stay alive and keep his identity a secret. There was a plan here somewhere; he just had to find it.
He quickly reverted back his attention to the Dark Lord and couldn't help but grimace as a shiver ran down his spine when the Dark Lord grinned as if he'd already won the war.
The meeting was quickly adjourned and Draco walked towards his new destination; the Potion's room. He quickly needed to restock his supply of Polyjuice potion. A figure stepped out of the shadows and he was so startled, not by the presence but to whom it was that he let that said person dig her wand on his throat.
"Greengrass?" he stared at her with a baffled look on his face that seemed to pass off her as a surprise that she managed to dug her wand in his throat and not the fact that his friend's younger sister was in the snake's lair.
"You promised he wouldn't get hurt!" she cried. Tears were gathering in her eyes as she painfully dug her wand in his throat.
He? Who's he?
"And now he's dead!" she shrieked.
He needed to buy time. He had absolutely no idea what Astoria was on about. He cleared his throat before he spoke to the angry woman before him.
"Greengrass, we're in the middle of the hallway," he pointed out. "Privacy is in order," he snapped at her. But she seemed to understand as she lowered her hand, albeit still fuming mad as she led him by wand point to a vacant room.
He heard her mutter silencing spells around the room as he gathered his thoughts and information to at least try and understand what Astoria was talking about. So he did what any other male in his current position to extract unknown information from an angry woman. He stayed silent.
"You promised me," she started pacing.
Draco managed to study her as she paced. She didn't take his wand, either there was a little bit of trust between Astoria and Marcus or she was just too angry to think about confiscating it. She looked distressed. He hadn't seen her in a while and she looked like she'd lost a lot of weight. Her once voluptuous body was now thin and frail. Her once pretty face looked hollow and aged. Her eyes were bloodshot with dark bags beneath them.
"I did everything you asked," she was crying now. "And now he's dead!" she screeched. "This wasn't part of the bargain, Flint," she turned to him.
He continued to stay silent, merely cocking a brow in her direction to incite her. It seemed to work as she continued to speak brashly.
"I planted all the evidence you gave me to lead Dumbledore to the Horcrux," she continued. Draco automatically clasped the heavy locket in his pocket. "When I heard he left for a solo mission, I contacted you immediately. I went with you to where that fake Horcrux was and—" she sobbed, stopping mid-sentence as she dropped to the floor, hugging herself.
He stared at her. He needed her to keep on going.
She hiccupped before speaking again. "Oh Merlin," she cried. "When he drank that green potion, I thought, I thought," she stuttered. "He'd gone insane," she looked terrified.
He came to his own self conclusion that whatever it was Dumbledore had drank, must've been powerful enough to weaken the Order's leader and unknowingly lead Marcus Flint to Grimmauld Place. He remembered the last few moments he had with the former Headmaster. He had looked ashen, drained of his energy with his right hand burnt and his eyes diluted.
What exactly had he drunk?
Draco pondered, shuffling through the entire Dark Arts spell encyclopaedia that was stored in his head. Nothing was coming to mind. But whatever it was, it was powerful enough to weaken Dumbledore.
He looked back at the guilt-stricken Astoria. She had betrayed him. Did Daphne know about this? Pansy had always been close to the Greengrass sisters. This news was going to kill her, he was sure of it. But who was 'he' that Astoria was talking about? He thought hard on who had died during the attack. There wasn't anybody who died that he would consider important for Astoria to break down but—
Oh Merlin. He inwardly groaned as he stared at the younger girl. If Hermione was there, she would have berated him for being 'such a guy'.
He still wasn't sure, so he decided to test the waters. "His death was an accident," Draco started. This seemed to awaken Astoria from her guilt trip as she looked up at him defiantly and stood to better stand her ground.
"You said you'd protect him," she retorted.
"I can't help it if the bloke decided to become a hero," he replied angrily with, again, no specifics.
"I never should've trusted you," Astoria spat. "You always hated him because you've always envied him. He had everything you ever wanted," she said.
It took a second for him to react. When she started talking, he anticipated that she'd defend 'him' and at the same time belittle him. So he wondered what a man like Marcus Flint would do when insulted. So he did what any other Death Eater with power would do when belittled.
He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against the wall while mustering his most intense glare. He depicted that there may be more to the agreement since Astoria was still here.
"And you crave for someone that never belonged to you in the first place," he said, his eyes burning into hers. "You were bested by someone who's—"
"Shut up!" Astoria pushed him away.
"The deal is not over," he said. It was a question, but Astoria took it as a statement. If Astoria was still here in the Death Eater's lair, taking all this shit from Marcus Flint, then there must be more to the agreement.
She massaged her bruising neck as he continued to study her.
"And you better hold that end of the bargain," she wheezed.
If only he knew what that was.
"Why don't you go back and see if we can find a way to finalize the last agreement," he suggested. He was trying to get more information out of Astoria.
"Are you insane?" she paced. "That dragon tamer had the eye on me before I left the shelter. I think he's starting to doubt me," she sighed.
Draco had his back turned away from her. Thoughts flew around his head as he put the pieces of information together.
"And Blaise was there too, I think he knows," she paused. "No, I'm pretty sure he knows," she stressed.
Draco turned to her with a confused look on his face.
Blaise Zabini. In a Shelter? Especially when he specifically instructed him to stay by his family's side? Even if Blaise thought he really was dead, he would've followed through with that request of his. And Blaise Zabini never had any business with the Order's shelter bases. So what was he doing there?
"What did he say?" Draco asked.
"He was talking to the dragon tamer," Astoria shrugged.
Now Draco was confused. He'd always taught his Slytherin mates to be consistent during the war. Blaise talking to the dragon tamer was out of the bloke's regular behaviour. Blaisenever talked to any of the Weasleys. He always passes information either to him, Snape, or Hermione, but never a Weasley. And he was pretty sure he would refuse to play as a messenger for the Order.
He turned away from Astoria to hide his confused look.
"Did Zabini go anywhere else after that?" he asked her.
"Yes," Astoria answered from behind him. "He made it clear that he was passing a message around all the other shelters," she said.
Draco grinned. It was a message then.
"What did he say?" he asked.
"Nothing we already know," she started. "Just to keep Dumbledore's real killer a secret," she continued.
Draco frowned. Real killer? He pondered as the pieces started to fall together. "They know who killed him?" he asked her.
"He didn't say."
"Do you?" he turned to look at her.
"No," she shook her head. "Who did do it?" she asked curiously.
Draco paused. "The Dark Lord's asking the same question," he answered with a dismissive tone. Fortunately, Astoria dropped the topic. He turned away from her and clutched on to his pocket where that seemingly heavy locket was placed.
It was a fake. The locket that Dumbledore risked his life to get, which also resulted to the downfall of their home, was a fake. They got nothing out of it, and they lost everything because of it.
He turned his head slightly, studying Astoria out of the corner of his eye. He had to get into her head. Consequences be damned, he needed more information. A quick Obliviate after his deed would fix everything. Determined, he turned fully to face her and casted a quick binding and silencing spell on her.
She fell on the floor, hard. He walked over to her and studied her frightened eyes.
He took out his wand and pointed it to her temple, cast the spell and prepared himself to dive into her memories.
He didn't expect the information he received.
Once done, he stood straight and walked away from her still frightened form. He paced around the room, willing the anger away. The bitch wanted his son, his and Hermione's son. Astoria's words when she was talking to the real Marcus Flint echoed in his head.
He was supposed to be mine.
She stole him from me.
Scorpius is supposed to be my son.
It took a lot of willpower to not walk back over her defenceless form and wring her neck for bringing his innocent son into her path of worthless revenge. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his fraying nerves.
He couldn't stay there any longer. He needed to refocus to erase and modify Astoria's memory as quick as possible. He got the information he wanted from her and he needed to plan his next moves, not to mention re-establish a connection of communication with the Order.
He quickly went back to Astoria and brought her up to a sitting position on the couch. He re-entered her mind. It wasn't easy, because she was blocking him the second time. The first time, she was shocked that it didn't register that he might use Legilimens on her, but she was ready the second time, knowing that he might do something to erase what he just did.
It took a while but he managed to break her down.
He quickly did what he needed to do, making sure he didn't leave anything that would make her suspicious of him. Once done, he walked towards the window and lifted his spell off of her.
From his position, he watched her blink twice before he spoke.
"Greengrass?" he called to her. "Did you hear me?"
She turned to him in confusion. She shook her head before replying. "I-I'm sorry. What did you say?" she stuttered.
He sighed dramatically. "Never mind, you're stressed about his death. I'll think of a way to get you your brat," he told her what she wanted to hear.
She smiled before nodding in approval. She lifted the wards she had on the room before exiting, leaving a still fuming mad Draco Malfoy behind.
He stared at the closed door, plotting his next moves in his head. He really needed to contact the Order, but first, he needed more potions.
Blaise Zabini returned to the Order's new shelter beneath the ruined Hogwarts castle. He entered the room where Hermione and that future boy were in, awaiting his return. They greeted him eagerly upon his arrival, showering him with question after question without waiting for an answer.
"Did you and Charlie manage to do it?" Hermione started.
"Did you think the spy really heard you?" The future boy asked after her.
"Do you have any idea who it is?" Hermione asked again.
"Calm down," Blaise brushed past them and his eyes fell on his best mate's son, playing by himself on the bed. He walked towards him and ruffled his godson's platinum hair before speaking. "Yes, the dragon tamer and I went to all the shelters and had the same conversation where everyone can hear us," he sat on the bed next to Scorpius.
"And?" Hermione urged him.
"I had an idea as to who—" Blaise stopped and noticed that determined look on Hermione's face. "But I'd rather not say, since it is just a guess," he added quickly.
Hermione walked towards him angrily, and he braced himself for the onslaught.
"And why not?" she growled. "We could've been killed. My son could've died. Grimmauld place was burned down. Dumbledore is dead. A lot of innocent people are dead. I thought my husband is dead. He could be dead. And you won't tell me who might be responsible for all of this?"
"It's just a guess Granger," Blaise sighed. "And with your emotions right now, I'd rather not have you scare that spy," he reasoned. She seemed to calm down when she noticed her son looking at her oddly. Apparently, the kid hadn't seen his mother yell before. "Where's Potter?" Blaise asked.
"He's with Ginny," Xander answered him.
Blaise looked at the silent Hermione, who was probably gathering all the information she had to try and figure out who could have possibly betrayed them. He ignored her and turned to look at his godson. He noticed the tattered book by his side and picked it up.
"Hey, I remember this," he said.
Hermione and Xander turned to look at him.
"I gave this to—" he paused with a slight hesitation. "Dumbledore," he mumbled.
This bit of information seemed to snap Hermione out of her musings. "You gave it to Dumbledore?" she asked.
Blaise nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, I didn't know he gave it to you," he said. "I never thought he'd give it to you," he corrected himself.
"Why is that?" Hermione asked.
"Something about it being important," Blaise shrugged. "He said that it'll help us locate the rest of the Horcrux," he restated what Dumbledore had said.
"Exactly how can a children's book help us locate the Horcruxes?" Xander voiced out.
"That's what I said," Blaise shrugged.
But at that point, Hermione wasn't listening. She took the book from Blaise and was looking at it as if it was a valuable artefact.
After obtaining the vials he needed and making sure to modify the Potioneer's memory into thinking he had given him a simple Dreamless sleep potion, he snuck out of the room and using Astoria's memories, he headed towards Marcus Flint's chambers.
He froze mid step when—just down the hall, he saw Bellatrix Lestrange heading his way. His heart beat restlessly, but he tried to walk forward, trying hard not to attract unwanted attention. She didn't even look at him when she passed by.
But he saw her. Well, more specifically, he saw what was hanging around her neck.
Well fuck me.
Draco internally cursed. The real necklace was just hanging there for the taking. Bad news, it was guarded by the Dark Lord's vilest snake.
He kept walking but the woman's cooing made him stop. He turned to look and found her staring at him. He lowered his head and gulped as he silently waited for her to speak.
"You didn't go?" she spoke. She looked confused. Then she cocked her head to one side and grinned. "He expected you to kill him you know," she said sweetly that most definitely sent shivers up and down his spine.
"Dumbledore?" he spoke for the first time.
"But you failed him," there was a fake regretful tone in her voice. "Must be why he didn't call you to go on the next mission," she cackled.
"What mission?" Draco asked before he could stop himself. Not that it mattered. It seemed that there's a little war going on between Marcus Flint and Bellatrix Lestrange. His aunt did hate it when the Dark Lord favoured somebody else, more than he did her.
"Oh it doesn't matter now, they already left," she seemed ecstatic to be the one to break the news to him, little did she know that the feeling was mutual. "They left to attack another shelter," she continued. "More specifically, the one where Severus Snape is stationed."
Draco paled. He turned and left his laughing Aunt behind. His haste to leave her passed off as anger to the unsuspecting Death Eater. He needed to warn the Order, fast.
Chapter Word Count: 4,411