The Inspectorate for Elfish Labour Conditions

Chapter 7: Notice of Intention

Music: The Patronus Light, John Williams (Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban)

The last copper rays of sunlight were setting the horizon behind Malfoy Manor ablaze when Draco returned from a visit to Astoria. Outside the gates, he dismounted from his Nimbus 2001, ran a hand through his windblown hair, and straightened his jacket. He would be in before nightfall.

When travelling, Draco often preferred the longer broomstick ride over a swift Apparition. Up in the air was the only moment when he could enjoy a real sense of freedom. But the visit to Astoria had not been as joyful and carefree as it should have been. A certain restlessness had been plaguing him for the past week, and he hadn't been able to shake the feeling off for the visit. His responses had been vague, his mood withdrawn. He had finally excused himself, reassuring Astoria that he was fine when she had glanced at him searchingly. He'd felt guilty knowing that the reason for his absentmindedness was another bookworm who'd recently come back into his life.

Though he didn't have the right to expect this from her, he had been subconsciously looking for some word from Granger after the inspection visit to Malfoy Manor. He'd placed all of his hope on the inspection outcome but when it finally arrived and it had contained only the inspection results, it had affected him more than he'd expected.

When Granger had appeared on his doorstep after so many years, he'd realised how much he'd missed talking to her after they'd both gone their separate ways. And it hurt, knowing that there would not be a next time. Draco had considered Owling her and inquiring after her wellbeing but had finally decided against it. If a note from him to Hermione Granger fell into the wrong hands, she would have to explain herself, and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost.

The sensation of an invisible power pulling at him dragged him from his downcast thoughts. The manor wanted him to enter through the gates and face his frozen life again. His mother was probably wondering what was taking him so long. With a sigh he complied, leaving behind nothing but a wisp of smoke as he passed through the gate.

Draco had not been looking forward to the graduation ceremony. This was partially because knew the effect his family's presence had on people and partially because it would mean the end of the school year and of Potions Class with Granger.

Of course, his reluctance did nothing to prevent the festive moment from inescapably drawing closer until he found himself on the raised platform in the Great Hall, waiting for the Headmistress to hand him his diploma scroll. He vaguely remembered that Professor McGonagall had been glowing when she shook his hand. His excellent results had placed him right behind Hermione Granger, which had actually surprised him. Of course, Granger had finished top of their year, and it had taken all his self-control to bite back a smile. Some things would never change. At the very least, his accomplishment had earned him a semi-polite applause from the crowd as he'd returned to his seat beside Granger, while the Weasel had thrown dark looks at him from the row behind the graduates. Granger's face had been unreadable as she'd been applauding for him, but somehow he'd felt that she'd meant it.

His family had left right after the ceremony had ended. At the Great Hall's mighty doors, he'd turned around one last time and his eyes had fleetingly met with Granger's. For a moment, it had seemed as if he'd seen slight disappointment in her gaze. Convincing himself it had only been his imagination, he'd nodded at her ever so slightly.

'Goodbye, Granger,' he'd thought silently, 'have a happy life.'

And now he was home again, a fresh graduate from Hogwarts. He followed his parents to the downstairs drawing room, and his father briskly crossed the elegant space to the liquor cabinet to pour himself some Firewhisky as his mother smiled at him sadly.

"No matter what, I'm proud of you, Draco, for going back to school and passing your exams with such good results. I hope you had a good year."

Draco returned the smile behind his father's back and, as he loosened his Slytherin tie, he excused himself to change out of his school robes for the last time. But his father wasn't prepared to let him go yet.

"I hope it was a good year indeed," he stated bitterly. "Did you actually learn something worthwhile?" He gave his son a hard stare.

"Lucius," Narcissa started reproachfully, but Draco shook his head at her.

When he looked his father in the eye, his expression showed nothing of the defiance he felt at his father's words. "Actually, I did, father," he replied calmly. "I learned to cast a Patronus."

The sound of the crystal whisky glass shattering into a thousand pieces accompanied his footsteps as he turned on his heels, and his lips curled in a bitter smile.

Granger's visit to Malfoy Manor had revived long-buried memories of the former Gryffindor. Precious memories. Memories of quiet collaborations at Potions Class and Patronus lessons during the Christmas holidays. Memories of a delicate understanding which had developed between them, based upon a shared interest in learning and silent acceptance of the other, amidst the sea of other people's expectations.

Astoria had only partly been able to fill the void left by Granger when they had finished school, but he'd been grateful for it nonetheless, knowing that he couldn't hope for more. That was, until Granger had unexpectedly shown up on his doorstep, driven back to the house where she'd been tortured by his aunt in order to find closure. Not for the first time, Draco's hand went to where her lips had touched his cheek after he'd Apparated her back to The Burrow. The softest of caresses had now become the most powerful good memory he had. A new memory of Hermione Granger.

Walking down the long approach with his broom in his hand, Draco's steps slowed down until he finally came to a full stop. His heart sank in his boots as he looked up at face of the looming building behind which waited his mother, who would probably want to know if he had finally proposed to Astoria. He could already imagine his mother's reproachful gaze at his dissatisfying answer. His face darkened, and he knew he needed more time to clear his mind and ready himself to face his mother. He mounted his broomstick again to go for a long, nocturnal ride.

It promised to be a long night.

After he'd changed into one of his black suits, Draco had decided to go to the manor library, hoping to find some distraction from the downcast atmosphere he had come home to, knowing that from now on there was no chance of escaping it anymore. It had been mere minutes after he'd settled himself on the sofa with a cup of tea, brought to him by one of the house-elves, that the door opened and his father marched in with a grim expression on his face.

"Show me!" Lucius snarled, looking definitely agitated as he gave his only son a hard stare.

Draco had to fight back a lazy smirk he knew would only upset his father even more. "Show you what, Father?" he inquired smoothly. Dejectedness and pity wrenched Draco's heart as he watched his father struggle to say the word.

"Show me the bloody...Patronus!" he finally hissed.

Draco nodded curtly as he rose to his feet. He'd already expected as much. "Of course, Father."

It was a difficult moment. He had to block out all of the anger and frustration radiating from the older Malfoy and open his mind to the gentle, intimate memory of Granger playing with the ferret Patronus on New Year's Eve. It had become his chosen memory ever since. His father never saw Draco's eyes softening as he spoke the incantation and the ferret jumped from his wand. Draco effortlessly made the Patronus run a few circles around the both of them until he ended the spell. The silence was deafening.

"A weasel?" When Lucius finally found his voice again the mocking tone elegantly masked his disgust.

"It's a ferret, Father. Not a weasel," Draco sharply corrected him, seeing in his father's cold, piercing eyes the grave disappointment he'd feared to see. Lucius obviously had expected to see a more heroic animal for a Malfoy.

"Is that not the animal Barty Crouch Jr. turned you into in your fourth year?"

Draco involuntarily flinched at the memory but nodded slowly. "It is."

He stepped back as he waited for his father to process the information, knowing exactly what his father was going through at this moment. A Patronus was known to repel every aspect of the Dark Arts Lucius had ever stood for and believed in. That Draco had wanted to learn this spell was a clear rejection of that path and, in extenso, of Lucius himself, who'd raised his son believing in the rightfulness of said path. However, Lucius was also a clever man and knew that Draco had to move on in a world that wasn't friendly toward their former views anymore. And despite himself, he was proud of his son for succeeding in mastering such an advanced piece of magic.

Giving his father some space, Draco walked over to the window that looked out over the rosarium. It promised to be a good year for his mother's roses.

"So, Patronuses are on the Hogwarts teaching program now?" Lucius inquired casually as he stared holes in Draco's back.

Draco let out an inaudible sigh, feeling terribly weary all of a sudden. Already his father was struggling to cope, and there was one other thing he hadn't told his father yet. "They aren't, Father. Granger taught me."

"What?!"

Draco now turned around, a smooth smile plastered on his face. "It doesn't matter anymore, Father. I've finished school, and I also happened to learn the Patronus spell while being there. It's time to look to the future, Father. If you'll allow me, I will establish a Malfoy charity foundation to create a new basis for our family in the wizarding community."

It had been something that he had been turning over in his mind for a while now, and he felt now was the time to ask for his father's permission. Lucius was looking at his son in complete bewilderment. But after what seemed like an eternity to his son, he finally nodded and strode out of the library, carrying himself with as much dignity as he was able to muster.

Draco was left standing by the window, a forlorn expression on his face.

"Master... Master Draco..."

Panic... Pain... Agony... They consumed him, dragged him down, trapped him in a pit of utter and endless horror. Somewhere in the distance he heard a begging voice cutting through it, but he kept his eyes trained on Hermione Granger's face wincing with pain. A tear escaped her eye as she looked at him in despair. Why was she looking at him that way? Didn't she know that he couldn't help her, even if he wanted to?

A cackling laugh screeched in his ears, and Granger let her head hang, squeezing her eyes shut. She was in pain and it tore through his entire being. But just as he reached out to her, an excruciating pain went through his left forearm. With a cry of anguish, Draco gripped his arm and fell down on his knees before Granger while the angry red mark beneath his palm turned jet black.

His breathing came in ragged in- and exhales as he desperately reached for the squeaky voice coming from above. Somehow, he knew that if he could succeed in reaching that voice, he would be safe. He tried to bend his steps toward that voice but failed, and panic rose inside of him. He'd done it countless times before. So why couldn't he now? His labouring breath drowned out all other sounds as the purple drawing room disappeared before he was suddenly surrounded by violent flames escaping from the black marble fireplace. Coughing violently, he spun around, looking for a way to escape, only to discover the flames were everywhere, scorching him, caging him, guarding him.

He was quickly becoming lightheaded and his vision had begun to blur when something changed. Big, sturdy columns started to grow from the flames, unfolding arched ceilings like flowers unfolded their delicate petals. Draco went quiet. This part of the nightmare was new, but he recognised the Gothic corridor the retreating flames had left behind. He was back at Hogwarts. He hesitantly stepped forward and discovered that he was in his school robes again. Murky moonlight shone through grimy, leaded windows and brought out the silhouette of someone else. He narrowed his eyes, and he began to discern gleaming curls falling on a Gryffindor scarf. A blissful feeling of peacefulness settled upon him as the young woman belonging to those curls turned around a smiled at him. It seemed as if he'd done something to please her and his lips curled up in a happy smile.

"Master Draco...wake up!"

A violent pain exploded in his face, and Draco bolted right up. He turned around with eyes open wide as a sharp feeling of regret and anger at being pulled from the dream - from her - temporarily cut him off from his surroundings. It wasn't until a small, moaning sound reached his ears that he started to come to his senses. There was a hand hovering above him that was gripped in an iron clasp. Draco looked down. He was sitting up straight in bed with cold sweat rolling down his bare chest and clammy sheets that were tangled around him from his waist to his feet. The faded Dark Mark on his forearm was glaring at him triumphantly as he held in his hand the bony wrist of a painfully moaning house-elf that was hanging several inches from the ground. Draco immediately let go of the house-elf.

"I'm sorry," he said automatically. "I didn't wake up, didn't I?

The elf had slapped him in the face like he was told to do in such a situation. The house-elf nodded silently, looking up at his master with big, shocked eyes. Draco sat down on the bedside and let his head hang in his hands. All of the adrenaline left his body. He was soaking wet and exhausted.

"Did I wake the Mistress?" His hoarse voice was barely more than a whisper.

"No, Master," the elf squeaked reassuringly and he was answered by a deep sigh.

"Good." Draco took his wand from his bedside table and made the sweat disappear from the sheets, untangling them in the process. "Thank you for waking me up, Squeaky. You can go back to sleep now."

The elf nodded and had lifted his fingers to leave the room with a single sharp snap when he hesitated and turned back to his master. Draco now stood by the window he'd just opened, his silk pyjama pants softly billowing in the cool wind. He knew that the young man wouldn't go back to sleep this night. "Master..."

"Yes, Squeaky..." The master sounded awfully tired.

"I...Squeaky must tell Master...that Master was talking in his sleep before he woke up."

For a moment, there was only silence, until Draco finally spoke. "What...what did I say, Squeaky?" There was wariness in his voice, fear almost.

"Squeaky hasn't heard the Master say it before... Master said - it's an otter."

Draco's reaction wasn't as surprised as the house-elf would have expected. He only nodded wearily as if he understood the meaning of the random words. "Thank you, Squeaky."

"Master..."

"Yes, Squeaky..."

From his tone of voice the house-elf could tell this was the last time Draco would grant him time to speak. "Master also said, 'if done correctly they can deliver messages from the caster'."

"What?" With two long strides Draco reached the house-elf. "What did you say?"

Squeaky jumped a bit at the shocked expression on the young Malfoy's face. The sound of his demanding voice was as sharp as the gleam in his eyes. But his fierce reaction was too much for the shocked house-elf. He blinked in panic.

"I... Squeaky...doesn't remember anymore, Master," he piped with difficulty as he miserably let his ears hang.

Draco calmed down somewhat at the pitiful sight. "It was only manner of speech, Squeaky," he responded in a softer tone, trying to reassure the house-elf. "I do remember what you said..."

Squeaky's words had unearthed a memory from many years ago, when Draco had received a message like he'd never seen before, from someone he'd never expected to receive one from. A Christmas greeting brought to him by a Patronus when he had spent the remainder of his Christmas Eve alone in the Slytherin dormitories. He had never actually told Granger, but after a very lonely evening, he had basked in the warmth of her message given him by the serene, silver otter. He had never given the event another thought, though, engulfed as he'd eventually become in mastering the Patronus spell himself.

But the house-elf's words had reminded him of something else, too. Something Granger had said during the first Patronus lesson. Suddenly, her off-handed remark was more important than ever. Draco restlessly looked at the bedroom door. He suddenly needed to leave this room.

"Squeaky, do you understand what you said?" Draco asked, almost automatically before he would dismiss the house-elf. A last check, because his thoughts were already miles away.

Squeaky hesitantly looked up at his master. "About the Patronus?"

He flinched when he suddenly saw Draco's piercing gaze fixed on him. His reply had snapped back Draco's attention to the magical creature.

"Yes, about the Patronus," the young Malfoy said emphatically. "Listen, Squeaky..." He knelt down to come at eye level with the small house-elf. "It's very important that you tell nobody, not even the Mister and the Mistress, about this. Will you promise me that?"

The house-elf nodded with big, shocked eyes.

"Good. Now return to your dorm and get some sleep."

With a pop the house-elf disappeared to the attic, but Draco didn't even register the sound anymore as he threw some clothes on him and determinedly went to the broom shed. It was time to get started.

The very first time Draco had attended the ball of the Order of Merlin, it was the first ball held after the ending of the Second Wizarding War. The Golden Trio and Ginny Weasley had attended as guests of honour. When they arrived at the ballroom, everyone lowered their gazes in respect for the youngsters who had saved them all. It had been the start of a new tradition.

From his spot amidst the Second Class laureates, Draco had found himself staring at the marble floor, waiting for the moment to pass, until an indescribable feeling compelled him to raise his eyes. Making sure to keep his head down, he looked up and stared right into the caramel eyes of Hermione Granger. There was a mixture of uneasiness and melancholy in her expression as she held his gaze. She clearly felt unsure how to react to this token of appreciation and, strangely enough, she sought reassurance from him of all people. Weasley, smirking proudly, completely failed to see her discomfort.

Without a moment's thought, Draco slightly tilted his head and gave her an inconspicuous nod in encouragement. The corners of her mouth lifted in a barely noticeable smile, which changed into an expression of relief when the music started to play. As the crowd started to spread across the ballroom she turned around, the small train of her simple but elegant forest green dress gracefully following her movements. The grateful expression on Granger's face had lingered in his memory long after Draco had left the ball.

Daylight was breaking when a cloaked figure appeared in a snow covered field and lowered his broomstick. The standing stones of Stonehenge rose up in the distance, bathed in the blood red glow of the early morning sun. He took down his hood and revealed a concentrated expression on pale, regular features. Closing his eyes, he slid into stance and his voice resounded across the valley. A shimmering ferret sprang from his raised wand. The young man effortlessly maintained the jumping Patronus as he allowed himself a slight smile. He hadn't seen the ferret for a while.

Ever since he'd mastered the Patronus spell, he had regularly cast one to keep himself in shape. But when over a year ago he had started seeing Astoria Greengrass, this habit slowly started to subside. His happy memory had increasingly started to feel like a betrayal to her who should have absorbed all of his thoughts.

But as he stood in the field, it felt liberating to finally be able to let the image of Hermione Granger take over his thoughts again. He smiled bitterly as he realised that the old memory he never seemed to get rid of when seeing Astoria today had almost naturally been replaced by another, even happier memory of Granger. The moment outside The Burrow when Granger had reached up to him and softly kissed him on the cheek. His eyes fixed on his Patronus, Draco went over the few words Granger had used on explaining the technicalities of casting a messenger Patronus to him. This would be the hard part.

Several days passed by, quietly accounted for by the standing stones of Stonehenge announcing the coming of winter solstice as Draco practised the transformation of his regular Patronus into a messenger Patronus. He first learned how to make his Patronus convey a few small words, which gradually changed to whole sentences and, at the end of the seventh day, the Patronus could retell a complete event. As he watched the ferret talk to a bare tree, a rare smile appeared on Draco's lips. It was a smile of relief and hope. He had found a way to reach Granger.

This year's First of December, Astoria's presence by his side somewhat eased the annual torment that was the ball of the Order of Merlin. Shyly but proudly, she walked beside him down the red carpet - a classic beauty in her old rose coloured dress, immensely enjoying being present at such an important event.

For her, Draco even paused in his steps to let the photographer from The Daily Prophet take a picture of them, knowing that it would please her, and she was beaming by the time they entered the theatre. As always, everyone present inclined their heads in respect when the Golden Trio and Ginny Weasley entered the ballroom, and Draco carefully raised his eyes. What he saw took his breath away. Granger looked absolutely stunning in an off-shoulder, Gryffindor red dress, a dream in chiffon and glistening crystals and the first red dress she'd ever worn at the event. Holding her head high, she was looking before her in a silent fashion that betrayed practice. But then she slightly turned her head, knowing where to look.

When their eyes locked, Draco was shocked to see an expression of infinite sadness disclosed in the radiant witch's expression, and suddenly he noticed the hard line around her lips as Weasley, who was standing next to the most beautiful woman in the room, seemed indifferent to her presence. At that moment the music started to play, and Draco's attention was drawn away by Astoria looking at him questioningly. With a slight bow, he invited Astoria to dance but as they whirled around the dance floor, he wished that instead of being here at the ball, he and Granger were squeezed into a school desk and that he could tell her that they would have a whole double period of Potions Class ahead of them if she wanted to talk.

"Would you please Owl these letters? That will be it for today, then."

Draco leaned back in his chair, watching as the small house-elf's long fingers closed around the many letters meant for the charities the Malfoy foundation now supported and nodded. Its ears flapped in the process.

Draco felt satisfied that he had been able to do all of this work today, despite the fact that his thoughts had constantly drifted toward other, more important subjects. He sighed and bowed forward to open a drawer, taking out a familiar brown envelope. The Ministry seal was already broken. By now he knew the content almost by heart. His eyes immediately went down to the last paragraph, rereading what it said.

This letter contains my intention to decide favourably upon the discontinuation for at least two years of proactive inspections of the Malfoy household. If you do not agree with the intended decision, you can appeal to the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Your motivated appeal will be considered in the final decision concerning further proactive inspections of the Malfoy household.

The notice of intention was signed by the Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, on behalf of the Minister of Magic.

"I do not agree," Draco murmured to himself before he put away the letter and went downstairs for dinner. Tonight he would cast a Patronus.

The evening seemed to drag on endlessly as Draco had to sit through a four course meal, trying to appear as normal as he could. Luckily, putting on a mask of impassiveness had become second nature to him, and he could tell his parents noticed nothing of the restlessness he felt. His father dilated on having met with the Minister of Magic today, after having been barred from entering the Ministry for six long years. Somewhere in the back of his head, Draco registered that this was important to his father and also that it might be the result of his hard work for the foundation, but he couldn't care less right now. He only nodded and sometimes mumbled something in assent.

Finally, after two long hours, he was able to excuse himself to bed, claiming to be tired from working all day to Owl the replies to the many applications in time. His father disapprovingly narrowed his eyes. He still stuck to the opinion that Draco needed an assistant, but his mother didn't seem to suspect anything for a change as she kindly bade him goodnight.

When Draco locked his bedroom door behind him, an expression of relief momentarily passed over his face. With a small, efficient wave he lit the candles as he loosened his tie, took off his jacket, and rolled up the sleeves of his light blue oxford, revealing strong arms and an expensive gold watch with a silver dial, along with the faded mark on the inside of his left forearm he'd learned to ignore.

The expression on his chiselled features was one of deep concentration as he stood still in the middle of the room, performed a quick spell to form a sound bubble around him, and then closed his eyes before exhaling deeply. Draco lifted his wand and relived the tingling sensation of Granger's soft lips caressing his cheek and the small, involuntary sigh against his skin as she'd pulled back. "Expecto Patronum!"

The bedroom was bathed in a soft silver light, the candles turning pale against the magical glow, when a lithe creature sprung from Draco's wand. Draco straightened up as he maintained the connection with the ferret as it went to sit on his hind legs, looking up at him serenely.

He drew in a shallow breath, then meticulously started to instruct his Patronus. "This message is for Hermione Granger..."

"Draco Malfoy..."

A small, rather vulnerable sigh escaped him when Draco subconsciously reacted to his name in his sleep. He turned his head and it came to rest against the other side of the ear chair, his body slumped down in the seat. His arm hung limp from the armrest while his hand still loosely held his wand. After sending off his Patronus, he had slowly lowered himself into the nearest chair and made the sound bubble disappear with an absent-minded flick of his wand as he stared at the large, multi-pane window through which the Patronus had jumped into the night. His head had become strangely empty as he finally had been able to voice the concern he'd been feeling about Granger's wellbeing. His Patronus had listened quietly until he was finished speaking.

"All right, you can go now," Draco had finally concluded his message and the ferret had disappeared.

"Draco Malfoy..."

The tinkling voice ripped through his dreams and forced him to wake up, on another level as painful as a slap in the face from a house-elf. Draco gasped and bolted upright, eyes widening as he reflexively let go of his wand. The dry sound of wood clashing with wood broke the nightly silence and, for a moment, Draco stiffened, waiting for his mother to come knocking on his door to see if he was all right. Nothing happened, though, and he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as his attention was drawn to a silvery glow that presented a sight he hadn't seen in a long time. Before him swam an otter-shaped Patronus.

"Granger," he breathed. His sleep was forgotten.

The otter nodded slowly. "I come with word from Hermione Granger. She wants to thank you for your message and tell you how glad she was to see your Patronus again."

A/N: I would like to thank my beta Crimson Eyed Sakura for her wonderful work.

Thank you very much for reading!