MUDSNAKE

by Flye Autumne

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: YULE

Draco was pouting, and for once it wasn't because Pansy had mussed his hair. "I just can't believe she never even responded," Draco said for the umptenth time.

"Maybe she didn't get the invitation?" Pansy suggested doubtfully.

Draco shook his head. "The invitation was delivered - multiple times - Archimedes would have come back with it otherwise. She has to be ignoring it - I didn't think we did anything to bother her that much -"

Pansy bit her lip. "If it makes you feel any better, she hasn't responded to any of my owls either. So if she's mad, she's mad at the both of us."

Draco frowned. "I just don't get it! I'm a Malfoy! I should have at least gotten a thanks-but-no-thanks owl! And I'm her friend," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Look, I know you're upset about this, but I'm here, the rest of our yearmates are here, and we can still have fun even though Hermione - " a hairbrush clattered to the floor, and Pansy continued on, blissfully unaware of the effect her words had on the Malfoy matriarch, " - isn't here. C'mon, let's go. I'm sure the ballroom looks amazing."

The two exited the room as Narcissa Malfoy sank down onto a chair.

Hermione - was that a common name? No, it wasn't really, was it? And - Narcissa's gaze rested briefly on the third drawer of her vanity - it was too much of a coincidence, and there is no such thing as a coincidence.

Narcissa opened the drawer with trembling fingers, unlocked the hidden compartment in the back, and pulled out a heavily creased letter. She swallowed hard, unfolded it, and began to read:

Narcissa,

I know I haven't written, but something has changed. My mum - your sister Andromeda, would not owl you - she did not believe you would respond, so I decided to go against her wishes and contact you instead. I know you do not know me and have no reason to read my letter. Please read it. It is not for my sake, but for the sake of another.

Let me introduce myself - as well as I can over letter, at least. I am your niece, Nymphadora Tonks, and currently a trainee at the Auror Academy.

We are working on a case regarding a Hogwarts student and need the help of you and your family. I am not supposed to give this sort of information out over letter, and in fact I am breaking numerous protocols by telling you this much, but this is the scoop…

The letter went on to detail an increasingly concerning picture. Narcissa had initially dismissed it out of hand - her Draco would never associate with someone who was muggle-raised - but then -

The girl's name had come up in conversation. And it's not as if Hermione is a common name.

An immense feeling of guilt washed over Narcissa. Here, she had assumed that the letter was a typical guilt-trip to get her (and Lucius) to donate their time and effort to a case to which they had zero personal connections. It would not have been the first time an event of that nature occurred.

I should have known.

I should have looked closer before turning it away.

I should have known that anyone close to Alastor Moody would view our family as a last resort.

Narcissa stood up, placed the letter in a discreet pocket in her dress robes, and exited the room. There's only one thing to do now: play the perfect hostess, enjoy the gala, and speak to Lucius as soon as possible without arousing suspicion.

Smile firmly in place, Narcissa descended the main stairwell.

Ron clutched his chess set nervously. He and Harry were the only two Gryffindor first years staying over the winter holiday, and Ron was very bored. The twins were off on some sort of mischief-making adventure that he, Ron, hadn't been included in.

It just wasn't fair. He had messed up one time - just once, and it was something he completely regretted and apologized for - and now the twins wouldn't include him in anything.

And now he was bored. Very bored.

Ron gazed down into the common room where Harry was curled up in an arm chair reading some sort of book. Ron shrugged. He had no idea why anyone would read a book for fun, but he was determined to overlook it. He missed his friendship with Harry - the black haired boy had been spending all his time with Neville recently, and Seamus and Dean were just not as fun to be around as Harry.

Ron descended the stairs and padded over to where Harry sat. "Hi Harry. Whatcha reading?"

Harry looked up from his book. "Sorry. I didn't catch that."

"Oh. Er, I was wondering what you're reading. And if you wanted to play wizarding chess with me," Ron added hurriedly.

Harry showed Ron the cover. "It's Breaking Ballycastle - it's all about the Ballycastle Bats and how they won the 1948 European Cup after a twenty year slump. They had an all new team, you see, the new coach, Filo Snatch, decided that the old players just weren't making the cut anymore and that he was going to have an all new team," Harry said excitedly. "They were ranked last in the league, so they knew they had nothing to lose. Snatch implemented all these new plays - the Hawkshead Chaser Formation, Diversionary Seeker Tactics, you name it. Everyone thought he was completely barmy, but then the team started winning. You know, now they're second only to the Montrose Magpies."

"So are they your team then? The Ballycastle Bats?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, Neville gave me the book as an early Christmas gift, and it's been a really fascinating read - I only learned about Quidditch this year though, and I've never been to a professional game before, so I can't say I really have a favorite team. Do you have a favorite team?"

Ron perked up. "The Chudley Cannons, of course!"

Harry frowned. "Didn't they -"

"Have a losing streak? Yeah. They're gonna make a comeback though. I'm sure of it."

"If you say so."

Harry reopened his book.

"Er, did you want to play chess," Ron said quickly.

Harry looked somewhat surprised. "Er, sure. I mean, I dunno how to play chess but -"

"I can teach you!" Ron interjected enthusiastically, "My great-uncle Bilius taught me, and it's not terribly difficult - I don't suppose you have a chess set, do you?" Harry shook his head. "That's no problem - you can probably borrow Percy's old set - and if he's not around you can always use one of the spare ones from the common room. Won't be as good as Percy's - he's pretty good at chess so his chessmen might actually give you some useful advice - but better than nothing, you know."

Harry gaped at him. "Your chessmen talk?"

"Yours don't?" Ron was baffled, "Honestly, next thing you're going to tell me is that muggle chess pieces don't fight each other."

"Er, wizarding chess pieces fight?"

"Of course they do! How does muggle chess even work - never mind, I don't want to know - let's go get Percy's old chess set!"

Ron darted off to the staircase, and Harry watched him go. "Magic is cool," he murmured, then stood up to follow Ron.

"Percy!" Ron shouted, pounding loudly on the door. "Percy!"

The door opened, and Percy poked his head out grouchily. "What is it, Ronald? Can't you see I'm in the middle of OWL review? Exams are only months away - I'm already in danger of falling behind on my study schedule -"

"We were, er, wondering if we could borrow your old chess set -"

Percy sighed. "Fine. You better not bother me again though!" He summoned a wooden box and placed in Ron's outstretched hands.

"Thanks Perce!"

"Thanks Percy!"

The prefect grumbled and shut the door.

"C'mon, let's go back to the common room."

Ron led the way back downstairs and set up the chess sets on a low table by the fire. "Alright," he said, poking a pawn with his wand. "This is a pawn. They generally move one space directly forward like so. The exception are that on their first go, they can move two spaces forward, and when they take out other pieces they move one space forward on the diagonal. Got that?"

Harry nodded. "That's a pawn, it goes forward one square unless it's their first go or if they're taking another piece out."

"Right. So this one's a knight…" Ron went on to explain the rest of the chess pieces and their moves while Harry nodded along. "So if you think you've got all the moves down, we can play a game - it's really the best way to learn, and if you don't remember where pieces go, you can just ask."

"Okay. Who's going first?"

"You have the white pieces - white always goes first in chess."

"Okay. Er, how do I move?"

"Just say the piece's name, then which square you want them to go to."

"Er, alright. Pawn to f4."

Ron smirked inwardly. He loved to play chess, especially with this particular opening. "Pawn to e6."

Harry looked at the board, and Ron could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "Pawn to g4."

"Queen to h4. That's checkmate."

Harry gaped. "What? How?"

"It's a chess move I learned from my great-uncle - I fell for it too, the first time, so don't feel bad. With chess, you have to get use to start thinking several moves ahead for both yourself and your opponent and not make split-second decisions."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Like in real-life?"

Ron's ears burned. "Yeah. Uh, yeah. Um, I can't say I'm proud of that. It - it was something that I really shouldn't have done."

Harry shrugged. "Everyone makes mistakes, you know. Just, ah, try not to make such, er - " he hunted for the right word.

"Idiotic?"

"No, that's not - well, kind of, you know."

"I mean, it was bloody stupid thing to do, now that I think about it," Ron said gloomily. Here I am, trying to be friendly, and Harry bloody Potter can't forget that I made a dumb mistake!

"Yeah. Er, so how about another game?"

Ron looked at Harry hopefully. "Sure." Maybe he could be forgiven after all.

Narcissa surveyed the grand ballroom. The gala is proceeding quite nicely - just where in the name of Merlin is Lucius? There was Draco, socializing nicely with his peers, especially that Parkinson girl, and Lucius - Lucius was stuck talking to the (incredibly idiotic) Minister of Magic. Narcissa internally winced with sympathy. Lucius' generous donations to the Ministry had certainly helped them out of a couple rough patches, but speaking with Cornelius...well, that was akin to attempting a scintillating discussion with a flobberworm.

Narcissa suppressed a shudder - Cornelius was most certainly not on her list of favorite people, and picked her way over to Lucius.

"Good evening, Minister. I trust you are enjoying the gala?"

Cornelius smiled in what was clearly meant to be a jovial manner. "Of course I am! How could I not? You Malfoys always throw the most excellent events - really puts the Ministry to shame, I'll have you know."

Narcissa shrugged elegantly. "I would like to borrow Lucius for a moment. Do you mind?"

"Of course not!"

Narcissa made her way through the throng, Lucius following close behind her.

"Cissy, what - "

Narcissa silenced him with a look and ducked into a nearby room, casting numerous privacy wards as she went.

"Cissy, what in the name of Merlin is going on?"

"I thought you would enjoy a break from conversing with Cornelius." Narcissa paused, "There was a letter... "

Lucius immediately grew concerned. "Not a cursed one, I hope."

"No. One from Nymphadora Tonks."

"Your other sister's spawn."

"Yes."

"Well, what does that have to do with us?"

Narcissa drew the worn piece of parchment out of her pocket. "It's easier if you read it."

Lucius' eyes darted back and forth across the page, then he swore quietly. "Draco knows this girl?"

"She's one of his friends at school. And in Slytherin."

Lucius swore again. "I never wanted to get involved with the Auror department again but this - this is something else." His silver eyes shone brightly in the dim room. "We will do something about this - it will be good for the girl - and our public image," he added, almost as an afterthought. "You will have to reconcile with Andromeda, or at least with her issue, you know."

"I know. I just keep worrying about the girl -"

"I'm sure she is fine. After all, Yule is tomorrow - even muggles celebrate it - the entire case should clear up in the New Year."

Narcissa sighed. "I know, I just - "

"Don't worry yourself about it. Relax and enjoy the gala."

Narcissa lifted the charms on the room, and the pair swept back into the grand ballroom.

Meanwhile, over 100 kilometers away in Surrey, a tall man advanced on a small girl.

"I thought we taught you to be more respectful."

The girl cowered. "I - "

"It seems like being at that boarding school made you forget some things, eh? Most kids aren't as lucky as you - we feed you, clothe you, and how do you repay us?" The man's voice was rising, he was almost spitting out the words, "with blatant disrespect?"

The girl closed her eyes and mumbled something.

The man grew still.

"What did you just say?" he asked, voice suddenly low.

"Nothing."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you dare lie to me. What. Did. You. Say."

"I said don't talk to me like that. Don't make me feel bad about myself."

"I'll talk to you however the bloody hell I want! I'm the parent, you're the child, I make the rules! You have no say, you hear that young lady, no say at all. You need to remember your place in this household."

The girl stared blankly ahead. "It hurts my feelings when you talk like that."

"Too bloody bad!"

"Don't tell me I won't be as successful as you." Her voice was detached.

The man leaned in close and grabbed the girl's wrist hard enough for her to feel an odd crunch. "Well you bloody well won't. Let's play a game, shall we? When you're fifty years old, just like me, we'll count up the number of toys you have and see who wins, eh?"

"Let go of me." The girl started to struggle. "You can't say those things, and you won't intimidate me."

"I will do whatever the bloody hell I want."

Tears were streaming down the girl's face. "You're hurting me - let go. Let go!" She struggled harder.

"You're out of control. You're a danger to yourself. I'm -"

There was a burst of light and the man fell to the floor. The girl took one look at the man and another look at her wrist and promptly threw up.

In London, Auror Bartleby looked at the chart in confusion. There had been a sudden burst of magical activity in Surrey, and there were only two magical children known to reside in that district, one of which was currently at Hogwarts. Oddly enough, the spike didn't register as underaged wanded magic, but as something else. Bartleby shrugged and filled out a missive. He'd never seen anything like that before, but he'd also only been working for a month. Bartleby took a swig of his butterbeer. It wasn't like he had to worry about it, anyway. It was now Moody's problem.

A/N: Thanks so much for the outpouring of support for last chapter! My muse went into overdrive -hence the extra long chapter- I hope you all enjoyed it!

As usual, thanks to my fantastic betas Scintilla of Myself and Delos-Solon.

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