Author's Note: Welcome back all to chapter 4 already of Book IV! I've been having a pretty stressful day (and week) and almost forgot to upload a chapter, my apologies! From this chapter onwards, things will pretty much be picking up speed, so strap your seatbelts if you haven't already! ;)

I want to thank my lovely lovely reviewers again for dropping a review and letting me know their thoughts. I'm very happy you enjoyed this chapter! Big thank you to Ghostwriter71, LeahLovesPotter, and Guest for their reviews. Below I respond to some parts of your reviews that I felt required a response!

Ghostwriter71: The train station was renamed "Bath Spa" in 1949 because there was another major train station that was named "Bath Green Park" and they wanted to avoid confusion. As to the feelings... no just kidding, this was really just dad being dad :)

LeahLovesPotter: You'll find out soon enough who the man is! Enjoy!

Guest: Thank you for nitpicking! I am not a Bath native, but try to do research about the places I write about. With Bath being quite a big city, I had mistakenly assumed the train station would be quite big. I have corrected it!

April 26, 1997
London

'You're late. I thought you s…'

For once, Sophie was unfazed by the sneering tone of her friend. Heart still racing and breaths coming out in pants, she instead pushed past him, grabbing onto his hand as she pulled him upstairs and into the drawing room. There, she made straight for the front-facing window, which offered her a view of the street below. Still out of breath, she pointed at the man, who was now looking around confusedly. 'That man, he… he was following me. Ever since I left King's Cross.'

Are you certain?'

'Positively.'

A moment of silence followed, and when Sophie turned to the side she noticed Draco looked pale even for his standards, eyes still fixed on the man down on the street.

'Why?'

'His name is Augustus Rookwood,' he said, not breaking his gaze from the man in question. The gravity with which he said the name told Sophie everything she needed to know – and confirmed her own suspicions. 'He is a Death Eater – follower of the Dark Lord. But I don't understand how he can be here.'

'How so?'

Now he finally turned away from the window, his grey eyes stormy and uncharacteristically vulnerable. 'Because he was locked up in Azkaban with several others last year, following their stint in the Ministry of Magic.'

Sophie nodded, remembering the Battle of the Department of Mysteries and the death of Harry's godfather. Then she sighed, knowing the time to come clean had come sooner than she had hoped – and at a time when her own mental and emotional reserves were running on their end. 'There was a breakout yesterday. Several Death Eaters, including your father, escaped from Azkaban. I wasn't sure if they would tell you the news. I came as soon as could…'

Silence followed her speech and when she looked over at him, she noticed Draco had resumed staring out of the window, at the man who still kept watch there. Several minutes passed like this and where she normally may have kept quiet, her exhaustion now won from her patience. 'Draco, are you okay? I can understand if you're not. I mean, he is your father and…-'

'Screw Lucius,' he said, vehemently and quite suddenly, so much so that it startled Sophie. 'He was the one who got himself and all of us into this whole mess to begin with.' He had pulled away from the window and was now pacing the length of the room.

Sophie watched him, taking in the anger on his face but knowing that it was but part of what he must feel. After all, she knew how he had adored his father growing up, how he had idolized him. Although clearly undeserved, Lucius had been like a god to Draco. Surely there must still be a part of Draco that lamented the loss of his father?

'Do you not think even he deserves a chance at redemption?'

He stopped in his tracks, eyes fixing on her with so much hatred that Sophie had to fight the urge to look away – reminding herself mentally that it was not her he was angry with. Later she would wonder who it was though; Lucius or himself, for falling for the same lies that he criticised his father falling for. 'I don't.

'Besides, it doesn't matter; Lucius wouldn't want redemption even if it was offered to him on a silver platter. He may want to be absolved of his crimes if the war turns badly for their side, but not to renounce the ideologies that led to them in the first place.'

April 26, 1997
London

Hours later, they were still seated in the drawing room. Kreacher – who had apparently taken a liking to the young Malfoy – had brought up a tray of sandwiches which Sophie had wolfed down with admirable gusto. Not many words were exchanged after they had broached the topic of Draco's father, the conversation having left them both drained. Still, in some ways Sophie felt it was a good kind of draining, for the air felt lighter now, filled with less insecurities.

On her part, Sophie was glad to know that the escape of his father had not returned Draco to his previous loyalties. What was more, it cemented what she had felt to be true ever since Christmas; that despite what he may say, Draco had changed for the better. While still admittedly a git, he was not evil. She had given him the wrapped CD soon after that realisation.

'Do you think he knew where you were going?'

She looked up, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had quite forgotten Draco was actually also still there. 'You mean that man – Augustus? I don't think so.'

'Do you think he knew who you were?'

She shook her head, 'I remember seeing him on the day I brought you and your mother to London, when we were waiting on the bus. He must have remembered me as well and thought it enough reason to pursue.' Seeing the frown on his face, she added, 'I don't think he recognised your mother or you either, otherwise he would have surely tried to get to me sooner.

'However… Given my sudden disappearance, he must now suspect there's something magical going on.'

He nodded, face pensive, before he moved back towards the window. 'He's gone!'

Sophie rushed up to join him at the window, verifying that the man had indeed disappeared. 'Do you think that means he has chosen to leave it be?' she asked, hopefully.

'I doubt it. It's more likely that he has gone back to report.'

'Fuck…'

April 27, 1997
London

As it turned out, Draco was probably right, for by the time the two departed the drawing room to prepare for dinner, another man had taken up watch on the corner of the street – keeping an eye on the place where Sophie had disappeared earlier that day. It was a problem without a doubt, but one that they unanimously and wordlessly decided would be one for later.

Back in the room that she now considered hers during her stays at Grimmauld Place 12, Sophie was in the process of brushing out her hair – which, she now noticed, had gotten in quite a tangle during her flight from Augustus Rookwood – when several loud cracks sounded from the floor below, followed by agitated voices.

When she stepped out of the room, she was just in time to hear Remus Lupin announce, '… dead.'

'Dumbledore is dead?' That was Molly, voice trembling.

'Minerva sent me her Patronus as soon as they learned.'

'But how?'

'I'll tell you, Nymphadora,' grumbled an unfamiliar voice, 'Albus Dumbledore was killed – murdered by one that he trusted. We have been betrayed.'

'But who would do such a thing?' Molly requested.

A short silence followed, before at last Remus answered, 'Severus Snape.'

'Severus?' Shrieked Tonks, 'That slimy, miserable…-'

Molly immediately shushed her, 'Not here, Nymphadora, lest you wake Mrs Black. Come, let's talk in the kitchen.'

Below, the sound of footsteps quickly died out, before a door was closed, cutting off any conversation that may have followed. Just then, the creaking of the stairs announced Draco's descent, and from the paleness of his face, she could only conclude that he must have heard as well.

'What happens now?'

It took her a moment to process the question, a moment longer to realise that he was not simply inquiring; he was expecting her to have the answer. But how could she tell him that this was not supposed to happen, not now he was no longer the person instigating the whole thing? How could she burden him with that guilt, in a life in which he may never even have considered doing it. Then again, Snape had made the Unbreakable Vow, which means that Draco must have been aware of Voldemort's order – and at least some of the original timeline was still on track.

'I'm not sure,' she replied honestly, 'Let's just go downstairs for dinner.'

When they arrived in the dining room, they found it fuller than Sophie ever remembered it being. Or perhaps it was not only the number of people, but also the heavy emotion that saturated the air that made it appear so stifling.

Amongst those present she recognised several familiar faces. Remus and Tonks were both there, as was Mrs Weasley and also Mr Weasley. The fifth person she did not know, but could only guess to be Alastor Moody from the battered state of his person.

She and Draco received only a barely cursory glance from the adults in the room before they resumed their discussion, albeit at a volume too low for them to discern much of use. After a moment, Mrs Weasley broke away from the others, forcing a smile on her face even though the skin underneath her freckles was still pale.

'I'm afraid today's course will be rather meagre, but I hope you kids both like carrot soup and some freshly baked bread. Draco, can you check your mother is coming?'

There was no need for Draco to answer, for just then Narcissa came gliding into the room in her usual haughty manner. Sophie almost believed her to be ignorant of the current state of emergency, until, 'So, the old man is dead.'

'Ah Narcissa, what a pleasure you are still here,' that was Tonks, quite literally bristling as she turned towards the Malfoy matriarch against Remus' platitudes,

'I suspect you are happy.'

'Quite the contrary,' Narcissa remarked, quite unimpressed by her cousin's animosity. 'Despite my… reservations towards the man, he kept his word and kept us safe.'

'How did it happen?'

The annoyed gazes now shifted to the younger Malfoy, and Sophie was once again amazed at his ability to read the room in precisely the wrong manner. After a short silence, it was Remus who responded. 'We are not sure yet.

'Professor McGonnagall was terse in her communication. She has temporarily taken over as headmistress to gain control of the chaotic situation. However, she did tell us that Snape… that it happened in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore had apparently requested Snape to follow him up after dinner. Professor Slughorn had come to Dumbledore's office for a question regarding a Slytherin End of the Year party when he heard a commotion. By the time he made it in, Snape had already disappeared.'

'Was anything missing?'

'What was that?'

'After… was anything missing?'

She now felt the weight of the gazes of everyone in the room on her – and with good reason probably. Still, she tried to appear innocent, as if it was completely natural to inquire after stolen goods after the death of a wizard headmaster by the hand of his trusted follower and friend.

'Nothing,' grumbled Alastor, and Sophie was about to sigh in relief. 'But one thing. His wand.'

April 27, 1997
London

'So what's so significant about the wand?'

The remainder of dinner had passed by uneventfully, with Sophie, Draco, and Narcissa mostly silent observers to the discussion of the others. However, with no new information, it was little more than speculation that passed across the table, with only Sophie being anything the wiser. Still, she had kept her mouth firmly shut – until now.

Draco had followed her quietly up the stairs. She had expected him to pass her by and up the next set of stairs. Instead, he had forced himself between the shutting door of her room, and was now watching her expectantly with arms crossed.

'Wand?'

'Don't play dumb with me, I saw your face when Moody told us Dumbledore's wand was missing.'

To her own surprise, she nodded. She knew there was no use in lying to him anymore – and what was more, had no desire to. Over the past months, she had grown to trust Draco, had come to see him as a true friend. 'You may sit if you like – it's a bit of a story.'

He sat down on the empty bed across the room, not breaking his gaze on her for a moment. 'Tell me.'

'Do you know of the Deathly Hallows?'

'From the Tales of Beedle the Bard? Of course, every magical child grows up on those stories.'

She didn't say anything, but rose her eyebrows meaningfully. It took only a moment for him to understand her meaning. When he did, he scoffed.

'The Elder Wand? Surely you're joking; it's a mere fairy tale.' At her silence, he scoffed again, 'It can't be. So the old coot had the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in the world, in his possession all this time and he used it for what? Growing daisies and conjuring smiles.'

'Well it served him better than boasting it in battle like its previous owners did.'

'Really now? Because as far as I see it, he is still dead and the wand is… Did You-Know-Who know Dumbledore had it?'

'Yes.'

'And now He has the Elder Wand…'

'Yes. And I doubt he will be using it to "grow daisies and conjure smiles", as you put it.'

A short silence followed those words as both of them considered the truth of that statement. 'So,' Draco said at last, a hint of scoff back in his tone though Sophie suspected it served more to dispel the gloom that had fallen over the room than that it was genuine in sentiment, 'Seeing as the Wand is real, I'm guessing the Cloak and Stone are as well – and I'm sure you can tell me where they are too?'

And so she ended up entertaining him with Harry's first Christmas gift from Dumbledore. Because she was unsure whether the Stone had already been placed into the Snitch and whether it would indeed pass to Harry, she decided to stay silent on the second subject.

Author's Note: This is quite minor, but I wanted to point it out anyway because it was a very deliberate choice on my side. This is the first chapter where Draco specifically takes distance from his previous ideologies; he calls the Dark Side "their side", rather than "our side". However, this is not to say (and definitely doesn't mean!) that he is now suddenly on the Light Side. I rather think he would now consider himself on neither side.