The Secret Hidden Inside
Chapter XXXVI
"Anticipation"
…
'Of course dad shows up right now!' Draco thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He turned around to face his father with a scowl. "Hi, dad," he said simply.
"What do you have to tell me now, Draco?" Lucius asked in exasperation.
"Nothing…nothing at all," Draco tried to assure him, refusing to meet his silver gaze.
"Draco, I would rather you tell me sooner than later," Lucius sighed. "Just tell me whatever it is and get it over with."
"Very well," Draco nodded, burying his hands deep in his pockets. "Please don't get mad at me for telling you this," he started slowly, still not meeting his father's gaze. "I'm tired of letting you control my entire life! I'm not afraid of you anymore, so you can't threaten me with your wand or your death glares! I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I no longer need your approval on every choice I make! I'm going to be friends with Hermione whether you like it or not!"
"You know, I really don't understand you, dad," Draco continued, finally looking up to meet his gaze. "You got angry with me when I told you that I've liked Hermione for a couple of months, when you dated Lily Evans for three years behind your father's back! You always complained to Snape or someone else when you weren't allowed enough freedom, when you were forced to break up with Lily, and yet, here you are, acting exactly the same way your father did!"
"Why are you being so hypocritical?!" he demanded, becoming more enraged at his father with every word. "You know how I feel! You know how unjust you're behaving! So why won't you let me do what I want?! What's so wrong with Hermione that you won't let me be friends with her, because being a mudblood isn't that terrible?! You said yourself, and I quote: You shouldn't judge people by their race or birth, and especially not by their blood! Please, answer me!"
Lucius stared down for a long moment, before sighing heavily. He lifted his gaze to meet Draco's and said, "You are right, Draco. From now on, I will not stop you from doing what you want. Live your own life, I will no longer get in the way. If it's what you want, you may date Hermione Granger…you have my approval, even if you do not need it. I am sorry that I have tried to control you." He then turned his back on his son and entered the manor.
Draco stared after him, unable to move an inch. He had not expected his father to end up apologizing again, especially after yelling in his face. 'This is too confusing,' he thought, shaking his head back and forth. 'Why is dad suddenly acting so different? Did I miss something important?'
(A few days passed quicker than expected, and back at the Weasley's…)
"Harry, I see you've decided to finally grace us with your presence!" Ginny exclaimed with a broad smile, waving to him.
"Hello, Ginny," Harry greeted, bending over to give her a soft embrace. "What time is it?"
"Almost nine," Hermione muttered feverishly. "I know I messed up."
Harry glanced all around the room, but could find no explanation for Hermione's behavior. "You messed up on what?" he asked in confusion, feeling quite left out.
"I messed up on my O.W.L.s, Harry!" she shrieked, covering her face in her hands. "I know for sure I made a mistranslation in Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was the hardest one, so I'm bound to have failed that! And Transfiguration…oh no, I messed up so-"
"Alright, we get it!" Ron barked, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Don't you ever calm down?! We all know you did perfect, so stop! You did better than Harry and me, that's for sure!"
"Oh, look," George said casually, leaning against the windowsill, "now those wouldn't happen to be three black owls flying in this direction, would they? One for each of you, perhaps? I had better open the window for them, unless you don't want to know your scores."
Hermione let out a horrified squeak, clutching to Harry's nearby arm. "I failed," she said in a terrified whisper. "Oh no…oh no…I'm not ready…oh, please…no…."
Fred and George opened the window, and the owls flew in, dropping three envelopes on the table as they did so. "Owls…pretty stupid, if you ask me," Fred stated, folding his arms across his chest. "I didn't do too well on mine, but look how I turned out! I've already got my own business!"
"You wouldn't be anywhere without me," George cut in, just as the owls flew back out the open window. "But anyways, how did you three do? Better than us?"
Hermione ran to her envelope and ripped it open. She scanned her scores with trembling hands, and her shoulders drooped. "I knew it," she muttered in defeat.
"What happened?!" Harry and Ron shouted jointly.
Hermione turned to them with a sigh, reluctantly handing them her scores. "I…I made an E," she mumbled.
Ron's jaw dropped as he read her grades. "Hermione, this is wonderful!" he exclaimed, turning to her with a beaming smile. "How can you be disappointed? I should think that making almost all O's is a good thing!"
Harry shook his head. "Well, good job, mione! I think that this is fantastic! C'mon then, Ron…our turn."
Draco sat in his bedroom, tapping his fingers on his desk impatiently. At first he did not hear the tapping on his window, but when he did, he almost fell backward out of his chair. He ran to the window and snatched his envelope from the owl, before slamming the glass in the bird's face. He did not really care, he was too anxious about his grades. He slit it open without a moment's hesitation and unfolded the parchment inside:
ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS
Pass Grades - Fail Grades
OUTSTANDING (O) - POOR (P)
EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E) - DREADFUL (D)
ACCEPTABLE (A) - TROLL (T)
Draco Alexander Malfoy has achieved:
Ancient Runes O
Arithmancy O
Astronomy O
Care of Magical Creatures E
Charms O
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Herbology O
History of Magic O
Potions O
Transfiguration O
Draco sighed frustratedly at his single E. He should have known that the half-giant Hagrid who taught Care of Magical Creatures was bound to not give him an Outstanding. But at least he could still continue the class, not that he wanted to. He smirked at his Outstanding potions grade.
"Good 'ole Snape," he muttered smugly, refolding the parchment and placing it back in the envelope. "Of course he gave his finest student the highest possible grade."
He made his way toward the study, where he was almost certain his father would be, and when he came to the large study doors, he knocked on the left side thrice. He watched calmly as the snake knobs turned and the doors slowly opened.
"Yes, Draco?" Lucius asked, appearing in the now open doorway.
"I just got my O.W.L. results," Draco replied, handing the envelope to his father. "I thought you'd like to know."
Lucius scanned the results several times, before handing them back to Draco with a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Well done, Draco."
"Er…thank you," Draco replied awkwardly, folding the parchment back up a second time. "I'm sorry for…yelling at you the other day. It wasn't my place to tell you what you should do. You're my father, and I should trust your judgment."
Lucius stared passed Draco for a long moment, muttering, "Trust has to be earned." He did not turn to face his son until Draco reasserted his presence by impatiently clearing his throat.
"There is no need for you to apologize to me, Draco," Lucius informed him, though both his voice and his expression remained distant. "I hold nothing against you."
"Er…really?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "I…well…thank you, dad."
Lucius nodded in reply, about to close the doors, but Draco instantly stopped him, demanding in a fluster, "What's going on, dad? Why did you apologize all of a sudden? Is Voldemort going to—is something going to happen to us?!"
"Draco," Lucius sighed, focusing his silver gaze directly on his son, "you know full well that if something was happening I would be sworn to secrecy. The Dark Lord may be a lot of things, but careless is not one of them."
"So, that means something is happening?!" Draco demanded, his eyes filled with obvious fear.
"No, Draco, do not worry yourself," Lucius replied simply, turning his back to him. "Can you…please leave? I would prefer to be alone right now."
"Yes, sir," Draco nodded obediently, heading back down the long corridor. He was anxious now, not sure what his father was talking about or trying to hint at, if anything at all. Perhaps it really was nothing to worry about and Draco was just overreacting.
He entered his room with a grim expression, before sitting himself at his desk, where a blank sheet of a paper that had been addressed to Goyle lay. "Well…I suppose I could use something to get my mind off all this."
Gregory Goyle,
I write this letter in hopes that you are well and that your mother is not too hard on you, especially now that your father has returned. Much has happened since last I wrote. First of all, my mother left with Aunt Bellatrix a few days ago on a visit to France, so I am alone with my father now. Before you become too concerned, let me inform you of the strange occurrences right before my mother left. Father apologized. He first apologized to mom, and then he said he loved her when she was leaving. Afterwards, he apologized to me. Do you not find this odd? I asked him what was going on and he said that even if something was going on he would be sworn to secrecy. I do not know what I am to expect, but I am more than certain something will happen this summer involving my family and the Dark Lord. Writing this all down is just making me more confused, but I would really appreciate your opinion on the matter. Anyways, I made an 'Outstanding' on every O.W.L. except Care of Magical Creatures. This really upsets me, but I suppose I should be grateful. How well did you do? Well, I hope to see you soon, even if you have to come with your hideous mother. I hope things are not too tough on you over there.
Always your best-friend,
Draco Malfoy
He sealed the envelope and gave it to his black owl. "Give this to Goyle," he instructed, opening the window, and the owl was as obedient as a servant would have been. Draco sighed, lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling.
"What's going on, dad?" he wondered, his silver eyes unfocused.
It was passed dinner at the Burrow, and Hermione and Ginny were on their way to the attic to pay Harry and Ron a visit before Mrs. Weasley forced them all to their appropriate rooms. Hermione opened the door with a broad smile, but when she glanced inside it vanished.
"No, get out!" Ron yelled. He had stood with his pajama bottoms half-way on, but when the girls had entered he had abandoned them for his blanket. Harry, who was merely missing a shirt, calmly closed the door with an apologetic smile.
"That was rather…odd," Hermione said, arching an eyebrow. "Ron really likes to freak out about things like that."
"Yes, I got him back at last!" Ginny exclaimed proudly, punching the air.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"Do you remember during Christmas Break? When he and Harry opened the door while I was changing? Well, I've threatened to get back at him while you're around, because he did it while Harry was around, and I've finally done it!"
"Okay…that's not weird at all," Hermione said sarcastically.
The door opened and an unconcerned looking Harry stood behind it. "Sorry about Ron's outburst…he's a little melodramatic about stuff like that, in case you haven't noticed yourselves," he said with a smile, stepping aside to let them pass.
Ginny laughed at the sight of Ron lying on his bed with his blanket up to his neck and his face redder than his hair. "It's about time you learned what it feels like!" Ginny snapped.
"Hey, Harry's the one who opened the door, not me," Ron replied in a meek voice.
"And Hermione's the one who opened the door this time, but who cares?!" Ginny exclaimed, sitting on Harry's bed with a smile. Ron pushed his bedspread away and sat up. He now wore a tight orange shirt and matching night pants, but his face was still red.
"Did you two finish all your summer homework?" Hermione asked, addressing Harry and Ron.
"Everything except Potions," Harry answered with a sigh, and Ron nodded as if to agree with him.
Hermione shook her head exasperatedly, "Would you like some help?"
"Yes!" they exclaimed jointly, handing her their essays.
She glanced down at them, only to find that they were both blank sheets of parchment. "You haven't even started?!" she shrieked.
"No," Ron shrugged simply, and Harry looked bashful.
Ginny giggled at this, as Hermione could not help but roll her eyes at them. "I'll give you a good lead, but I'm not doing it all for you," she replied, folding them into her pocket.
"Why not?" Ron asked in confusion.
"Thanks, mione," Harry sighed in relief. "Starting is always the hardest part for me."
Hermione nodded in understanding, her eyes wandering to his forehead. "Harry, has your scar been hurting at all?"
"No," he answered simply.
"You'll let me know if it does, won't you?" she asked uncertainly.
"Yes, Hermione, I will," he snapped, no longer wanting to continue the conversation.
"It's a bloody shame we didn't get to hear that prophecy," Ron said, his eyes staring intently at the wall. "You know…the one about you-know-who and Harry?"
"Dumbledore told me about it," Ginny said.
Everyone in the room turned to her in confusion, their expressions shocked. "He told me what it said too, but…why did he tell you, no offense?" Harry asked.
"Actually he told Malfoy…I was just in the room at the time," Ginny shrugged.
"Why would he tell Malfoy about my prophecy?!" Harry roared angrily.
"Well…Professor Dumbledore didn't bring it up, Malfoy did. It was near the end of the year when I was talking to Dumbledore about you, Harry. I told him I was concerned and asked if you would be alright after the death of Sirius. That's when Malfoy walked in. He took no notice that I was even in the room, but simply marched right up to Dumbledore and asked straight out if there was any way to kill Voldemort. Of course, you can imagine that I was shocked by this, but Dumbledore seemed to be expecting it."
(Flashback in Ginny's POV)
"Draco," Dumbledore greeted with a pleasant smile, "please take a seat. I will be with you shortly."
Malfoy refused this and snapped again, "How can the Dark Lord be defeated, professor?!"
Dumbledore sighed and shook his head heavily. "Mr. Malfoy, there is a prophecy that tells of the downfall of Lord Voldemort. If you would first be seated, I will tell you what the prophecy says." He stared up at the git for a moment, his blue eyes kind, despite the enraged look on Malfoy's face.
"Fine, but make it quick," Malfoy said shortly, slumping into the chair in front of the headmaster's desk.
"Very well, Draco…give me a moment," Professor Dumbledore said, closing his eyes, as if recalling a distant memory. "THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…." Dumbledore opened his eyes and focused them on the young Malfoy.
"So basically Potter's the only one who can do it? Is that what all this sham really means?" the git asked, arching an eyebrow. "Well this sucks…and I actually hoped that the Dark Lord would be defeated one day! Thankyou, professor, you've been of so much help!" He rose to his feet, almost knocking the chair over as he did so. He turned to leave the office, but the headmaster stopped him.
"Harry will defeat Voldemort, Draco," Dumbledore said calmly, and Malfoy scoffed. "You doubt him?"
"Yeah, I doubt him! Potter can't do anything without his friends at his back! He's completely helpless! What I don't get is why you don't doubt him! You're supposed to be a genius, and yet you place your trust in this sniveling little whelp?!"
"I trust Harry…that is my answer," Dumbledore said firmly, his head raising a fraction.
"Well, there's nothing you've told me that I don't already know!" Malfoy snapped, about to head back out the door, but he stopped suddenly. "Neither can live while the other survives, you said?"
"Yes, that is what the prophecy predicts," the headmaster answered simply, arching a curious eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"Does that mean…that someone else could kill him?" Malfoy asked, his silver eyes eager. "Maybe Potter won't be able to survive while the Dark Lord's around…but can't someone else finish him off? Does it have to be Potter?"
"It does also say that either must die at the hand of the other, though," Dumbledore corrected with a stern look.
"Perhaps Potter can help in the defeat of the Dark Lord…maybe that's all the prophecy means…or perhaps it was still speaking of when he was a child, when he vanquished him in the beginning," the conceited git suggested, cocking his head to the side, as if deep in thought. "Perhaps another could destroy you-know-who the second time, now that Potter's already had his fair share of glory."
"Hm…perhaps you are right, Draco," the professor shrugged, still doubtful though. "Perhaps Harry doesn't have to kill Voldemort. There may indeed be a possibility that the task was intended for another, but the odds are highly slim."
"Thank you for your time, professor," Malfoy said, and when he noticed me his mouth formed a smirk. "Please proceed with whatever you were doing before I so rudely interrupted, Weasle."
(End flashback and regular POV)
"And then Malfoy left the room, seeming highly pleased with himself," Ginny concluded, shrugging her shoulders. "Don't ask me why, I was just a witness."
"Alright," Harry said simply, his brow furrowed. "I suppose that makes more sense…sort of."
"God, that's weird," Ron thought aloud, his eyes staring at some inanimate object. "I'm sorry, but that's really…really…just kinda off."
"Why would Malfoy wanna kill Voldemort?" Harry asked no one in particular.
"Well," Hermione started, slightly nervous upon the mention of Draco, "he could have been angry with Voldemort because he got his father sent to Azkaban."
"But Malfoy said he wanted to make Harry pay for it, not you-know-who," Ginny reminded her matter-of-factly.
"He coulda been mad at everyone for it and was in some sort of serial-killer mood," Ron suggested with a chuckle, earning him a slap from Hermione.
"Well, regardless what the reason, it is almost midnight and any minute now mum's gonna come up here and start yelling at us…and I don't want to fall victim to that serial-killer," Ginny said, leaning over to give Harry a side embrace. "C'mon, mione."
"'Night, Harry and Ron," Hermione sighed, following Ginny out of the room.
"I'm serious, that's just strange," Ron continued, turning to Harry, who was setting his glasses on the nightstand. "Why would a wimp like Malfoy wanna know how to kill you-know-who? Something's wrong with that family, I'm telling you."
"'Night, Ron," Harry said shortly, turning his back to him as a sign that the conversation had ended.
"Alright, 'night, Harry," Ron sighed, pulling his blanket up to his chin and lying down.
"Hmm…you're right about one thing, Ron," Harry mumbled through a yawn. "There's something about the Malfoys. It's not wrong, really…just different."
"Nope," Ron corrected. "It's wrong."
Draco lay in his bed, gazing up at the ceiling once more, his silver eyes staring past it. The things his father was saying had been bothering him and he could not keep the thought of Voldemort from his mind. He was becoming paranoid, and every little sound made him turn his attention from his thoughts to the source of the noise, so that when there came a gentle knock at his door, his hand shot for his wand without a second thought. When he rounded on the intruder, he found that it was merely his father.
"Are you alright, Draco?" Lucius inquired, entering the room slowly.
"Yeah, sure! Sorry about that, I thought you were…someone else," Draco muttered, setting his wand back on his dresser, cursing himself for his behavior. "Dad, what is going on?! What's the Dark Lord up to?! What can't you tell me?!"
Lucius released a sigh, sitting on the bed, his silver gaze fixed on his son. "Whatever is happening…you know I cannot tell you, Draco," he answered in frustration.
"But…can't you give me a hint? Isn't there some way you can let it slip without the Dark Lord knowing?" Draco demanded anxiously.
"I would have been able to, but he has given me enough orders by now that I cannot even tell another death-eater when the next muggle-raid is," Lucius rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
"Could I guess? Does it have something to do with him sending you to kill Potter?" Draco shrugged, and Lucius chuckled. "Did I guess right?"
"Not even close, Draco," he corrected, a faint smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry. As long as you do as I say, you will be alright."
"So it has something to do with me? Or am I off again?" Draco asked with a scowl. "This is driving me crazy not knowing! Is he going to try to kill me or something?"
"No, he can't do that…that would be breaking his part of the Unbreakable Vow," Lucius replied, and Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Draco…I wish I could tell you everything…but you shall find out soon enough."
Draco glanced outside with a distant expression. "It's raining again," he observed, not wishing to linger on the subject for fear of becoming more aggravated. "It's been raining a lot lately." When Lucius did not reply, Draco looked up at his father, concern written on his face, giving up on the distraction. "It's something…terrible…isn't it, dad?" he asked in a low voice, and his father only sighed. "I wish I knew what was going on."
Lucius shook his head at this, replying, "If you knew, you would prefer otherwise."
"Is it really that bad?" Draco asked worriedly, his gaze unfocused again.
"Don't worry about it," Lucius tried to reassure him, pulling his son into a side embrace. "I love you, Draco…you do know that, right?"
"Yes," he nodded miserably, burying his face in his father's shoulder. "I love you, too, dad."
For a long moment, Lucius stared past the window at the falling rain, his silver eyes distant and unfocused. He was pulled back when he felt the weight of Draco's head on his shoulder increase and he heard his heavy breathing. With a sigh, Lucius gently placed his son's head to rest on the pillow, and he tucked the blanket securely beneath his chin.
"Sleep, dragon…while you can."
A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I meant to finish this chapter sooner, but I got side-tracked. I hope you like it, and I would love to read your review. The next chapter might take a while, so please, bear with me.