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If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or you can walk with Kings- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of good distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And- which is more- you'll be a man, my son!
|If- Rudyard Kipling|
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Part 9- Dulce Domus
Malfoy Manor...
Draco sat outside his mother's chambers disconsolately. She had not been lucid for a whole day. The others were beginning to get restless. Dumbledore's quest for the Healer was urgent. They couldn't wait longer than another day.
"Draco..." He looked up.
"Mia."
"You have a beautiful home." She smiled. "It's very- large..."
"And cold, and gloomy, and dank. It's more like a fucking dungeon than house. I bet you've never seen a house made of flagstone before." Draco refused to smile back.
"No, I haven't. It's unique." Hermione glanced into the room. "How's your mother?"
"Sirius Black's still with her. Keeps babbling, she can't even hear him anyway." Draco stopped and glanced at her. "I didn't know they knew each other so well."
"Neither did I." Hermione stopped. "Draco, you have to tell me. What happened back there? I know you've been hiding something from me for some time."
"It's unfair, I can fool anyone but you."
Draco stopped and looked down. The time was ripe. He took a deep breath and told her.
---
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The library, Malfoy Manor...
Harry glanced around at the shelves around him. Possibly every imaginable book was stacked on those tiers. He looked closer at the titles, many could not be read. The binding was dusty, but looked quite unworn...all except one. Harry glanced around quickly and pulled out the book. For a second nothing happened.
Then the shelves started to jerk apart, a slight screeching noise pervaded the room. A dark passageway opened up, with a feebly glowing light at the end of it. Harry smiled to himself.
"Lumos!" He muttered and started to step in.
"Arrête-toi! Stop, 'arry- no!" Harry halted as Fleur Delacour yelled.
"Fleur, what is it?" Harry asked.
"You must not step in zere! It will kill you,-" She made a slicing motion with her dainty fingers. "-if you do not 'ave a person wiz Malfoy blood beside toi!" She muttered a french spell under her breath and suddenly a life-size doll of Harry appeared in her arms.
"Watch." She said as she tossed the simulacrum in. As it crossed the shadowy threshold a silvery blade, not unlike the one at the gate, sliced it in half. As it fell to the floor, the doll's body seemed to trigger some sort of magical ambush. Captivity Charms bound it to the floor as some magic Harry had never seen before reduced the body to a heap of fine brown dust. As the last of it crumbled, it combusted. The ashes disappeared completely under the flames, which, after burning all remnants of the intruding object, snuffed out.
It seemed as if nothing had ever happened in the dark corridor.
"Ouch." Harry said. Fleur slid the book back into place and the grim passageway closed. "Thanks."
"You are welcome, anytime." Fleur's accent had lightened considerably. Harry noticed that it was only when she was excited or upset that it sounded thickly french.
"So, you've been here before?" He kept his voice casual.
"Yes, Draco and me are very good friends." Harry tried not to feel the twinge of jealousy that invaded his mind.
"I'm surprised you two never dated." Fleur laughed.
"Oh, 'arry, of course we were, how you say...- together, for some time. We told each uzzer we could- date other people...then I met zis idiot Damien and he met zis 'ermiohnay and we are just good friends." Fleur said it without a trace of embarrassment or jealousy.
"Friendship is a great thing." Harry said.
"It has it's merits. But, sometimes, it is not enough." Fleur touched Harry's hand. He wanted to draw it away but it remained resolutely fixed there. He told himself that he didn't feel the chill go down his spine as she touched him.
"But Fleur- what about Cho?" Harry said, weakly. Perfect, Harry, go to your last defence, the current girlfriend.
"Do you love her?"
Harry stopped. "No..." He faltered. "But Fleur- I don't love you either."
"Ah, but you could. How long have you and Sho-" She stumbled over the name. "Been going together?"
"Since year five...three years."
"Why?"
"Well...she's pretty...and popular- she's nice, too. She likes quidditch..." Harry stopped. "What are you smiling at, Fleur?"
"I have an idea. 'Arry, I am a Seeker, also, so I'll tell you what. You and I will play each uzzer, if I win, you will consider my offair, if you win, I will nevair ask for more zan friendship."
"But- what about the teams?"
"We will 'ave this match when we get back to Hogwarts." Harry looked down.
"Fleur, I don't mean to sound boastful, but...I am quite good at Quidditch." Fleur smiled.
"I know, 'Arry Pottair, but so am I."
---
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One of the guest bedrooms...
Ron Weasley sat on the edge of his bed. A large, full length enamelled mirror reflected his gaze.
"Well, this isn't how I expected to spend Graduation Day and after." He said, to noone in particular.
The mirror in front of him clouded. "Really?" It said. Ron jumped back.
"Eh, mirror's don't talk!" He yelled.
"Don't be foolish, Ronald Weasley, do you live in the Wizarding World or not?"
Ron nodded and calmed. "Sorry. So, what's your name?" As he said these words, the haze in the mirror started to arrange itself into a crude figure. Slowly, the lines became finer and imbued with more colour.
"I am Galatea. Ga-la-tay-ah, not Galatee." Ron stared open-mouthed. The figure had formed into a beautiful woman of around seventeen with long blonde hair and large grey-blue eyes. Her complexion was pale in an ethereal way, but her body was not unnaturally thin. She was not fat, but rather curvaceous. She resembled Narcissa Malfoy and to an extent, Fleur Delacour.
"Wow- I mean, hey..." He said.
"So, tell me your worries, Ronald Weasley. I will ease the burdens of your world." Her voice was mellifluous, her accent tinted Scottish.
"I don't know what I'm going to do!" He burst out savagely. "Percy's already personal Aide to Fudge, I mean, he's practically the Minister. Fred and George's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes stores are a complete success. Ginny's doing so well at Potions that Snape actually likes her, Harry's going to be one of the commanders of the war, Hermione's the smartest witch in over a century...but me? What am I going to do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know." Ron said bitterly. He stopped and then looked up. "But even that-that's all right. It's just that now Hermione's with Draco Malfoy." Galatea's face suddenly twisted.
"What? He never told me!" Her voice became shrill.
"Well, he is. What's so great about Malfoy that she can love him and not me?" Galatea's face assumed a haughty sneer.
"Draco Malfoy is perfection embodied. I will talk to you on the condition that you never say a word against him." Ron snorted.
"Hermione and now you. How come everyone I talk to starts to love someone else?"
"But I saw you with another in the hallway. Dark skinned, pretty girl- wearing blue?"
"Padma Patil- but I don't know. I think she only likes me because I'm friends with the 'great' Harry Potter and we have more money now. I don't think she likes me for me."
"Then why are you with her?"
Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well, 'cause something is better than nothing, right?"
"What about Fleur Delacour? I have seen you stare at her." Galatea said serenely.
"Well, Harry hasn't talked to me yet, but I saw him and Fleur holding hands. I can tell, they like each other. And that's another thing, Harry doesn't talk to me anymore. We were such great friends...till Malfoy came along. Now Herm avoids me and Harry and Draco are hitting it off. This would have never happened if Malfoy had just left us alone." Galatea seemed about to say something cutting but stopped.
"Yes...he should have just left you- alone."
"Left who alone?" Draco Malfoy walked through the doors. "Galatea! I told you not to talk to guests. I might have to confine you to just a few mirrors if this keeps up."
"I'm sorry Draco, I just get excited when we have guests."
"Yeah, well. Anyway, left who alone?" He asked. Ron's face coloured.
"Draco, you have a new girlfriend." Galatea said accusingly. Draco in turn glanced at Ron.
"Yeah, well..." He repeated uncomfortably.
"You promised to tell me about everything!!" Her voice felt like shattered glass. "You broke your promise!"
"So what, you're not real anyway." Galatea's eyes filled with tears. "By Slytherin, Tea-..." He pronounced the 'a' at the end. "I didn't mean-...Tea, please-"
"You did mean it. Goodbye Draco Malfoy, I thought we were friends!" She turned and her figure started to move farther away in the mirror.
"Galatea!" Draco hit the mirror with his hands. "I'm sorry! Come back here."
The figure didn't stop.
"Fine, you've forced me- ceasaeum et accium!" He pointed his staff at the mirror and the figure stopped dead. Slowly, Galatea came back into view.
"Let me GO!" She yelled.
"Malfoy, just leave her be, will you?" Ron interjected. Galatea turned to him.
"Ronald, do not command him." She said, through gritted teeth.
"Look Tea, I'll introduce you to her later, I swear."
"Fine, now let me go. She'd better be nice!" He lowered his wand and Galatea disappeared.
"Who the hell is she?"
"Slow down, loverboy. She isn't real. If you had read anything in your entire life you would know that."
"Eh?"
"Galatea was the perfect being created by Pygmalion. I created her, that's why she thinks I'm perfect."
"But- why? All that trouble..."
"Well, everyone needs a friend, right?"
---
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Draco's chambers, the left wing...
Harry walked through the huge silver doors inscribed with a green dragon. Draco's chambers started with a large living room. It had a WizVis, WizardVision, set in the middle with large black leather chairs all around it. The walls were hung with posters of popular singers and actresses, dominated by a large one of the Weird Sisters. To the right hung a poster of the Rouen Rangers, a high-ranking French Quidditch team and a poster of the Glasgow Grindylows, the premier Scottish team.
Harry pushed open the door to Draco's bedroom, curious. In the middle stood a large four-poster bed draped with green chiffon hangings. An enormous chest of drawers and cupboard stood to the right of it and a large emerald studded mirror beside it. Pictures of Draco from babyhood to adolescence glared at them from the walls. A large painting of Rouen, France stood to one side.
Harry advanced to the cupboard and opened it quietly. He gasped, apart from the usual Robes hung perfectly tailored Gucci and Armani Muggle clothes. Baggy dark coloured buttoned shirts, turtlenecks and black trousers populated the space along. He didn't seem to own a single pair of jeans or t-shirt, or anything light coloured. Black, green and dark wine were the only colours present. A classic black leather jacket hung to one side with gloves.
Leather shoes and a pair of wine coloured boots stood at the bottom. Harry opened the other half of the cupboard. Draco's dress robes and party clothes hung there. Harry glanced briefly at the flamboyant haute couture wear.
Only Draco Malfoy could pull this stuff off. He thought, looking at a sparking black shirt. He closed the cupboard and glanced around the room. On top of the dresser stood numerous oddly shaped bottles. Gels, hair dye, hair spray, deoderants, cologne, aftershaves and creams stared back at him.
Harry smiled, he knew Draco was vain. A flash of movement caught his eye. Above the bed stood pictures of Draco's friends. Harry glanced over it, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson were conspicuously absent from the hangings. Instead, most were pictures of extremely alluring girls; almost all of them with blonde hair and blue or green eyes. Each picture had the girl's name scribbled on it with a message to Draco.
Harry recognised a few. The largest, and obviously the newest was Hermione's, which waved and smiled at Harry, Fleur's picture winked at him and waved and Parthenope's glanced haughtily at him. Harry thought he recognised a few teenaged WizVis actresses. One picture which didn't move caught his eye, Harry gaped, it was from Natalie Portman.
"Isn't she a Muggle?" He asked himself aloud.
"Yes, but a very pretty one, don't you think?" Harry whirled around. "Nice to see you're making yourself at home."
"Ah, Draco- well, just curious." Draco smiled.
"That's okay. Admiring my old girlfriends?" Harry laughed.
"How come I don't see Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy?"
"Are they friends?" Draco glanced up at the waving pictures. "Pretty, aren't they? So, Fleur tells me that you might be going out with her."
Harry blushed. "Well- that is to say, um-..."
"Ah, still at that stage, are we?" Draco pulled back a curtain to reveal a sort of music player. "Want to listen to some music? I have some Muggle stuff."
"You do?" Harry moved closer and read the CD titles. "Blink 182, Metallica, Savage Garden, Third Eye Blind...Eminem-"
"Oh yeah, let's play that. I like Eminem." Draco put in the CD and turned up the volume. "Anyhow, I need to get some books and all, we're leaving tomorrow." He yelled, over the loud music.
"Can I come?" Draco hesitated for a split second.
"Sure." He said. He muttered a spell and a trapdoor opened underneath the large rug. Draco eased himself into the passage and Harry followed.
As they walked past, each torch flickered to life. Draco tapped a stone to his right twice and an opening appeared. Harry followed Draco through. He blinked in the murky blackness, they were in a high ceilinged room, not unlike the library, with books covering the shelves. The only thing, instead of tables and chairs were jail cells. Harry could see metal manacles through the grimy bars of the cell. In the centre of the room were huge iron and wood implements. Harry didn't even want to know what they were for.
Draco caught his look. "These are the dungeons. In the centre over there is the rack, our collection of thumbscrews is hanging over there, the waterwheel is near the pool- you can't really see it and our 'chair' is over to the left. It's where anyone who offends the Malfoys are tortured."
Harry looked closer at the instruments, he could swear that there were bloodstains on them. "Ever seen anyone get the treatment?"
Draco fixed him with a glance. "Potter- look, I'm just going to call you Potter, it's too much trouble calling you Harry."
"Fine, Malfoy." Harry said smoothly.
"Sometimes, Potter, sometimes I never know what you're thinking." Draco chuckled.
"It's easy with you, Malfoy." Draco glanced up.
"Oh, really?" He said, mockingly. "And why is it so easy?"
"Because you never think, Malfoy." Harry said, laughing. Draco's self-assured smiled flickered for a second and all of a sudden he began to laugh.
"Well, Potter, you actually can think of snappy repartees. Congratulations." Draco stopped laughing. "It feels amazingly odd to laugh in the Dungeons."
"What did you want from here anyway?"
Draco evaded his eyes. "Some books- ah, here they are." Draco took down a couple of books and quickly hefted them into his bag.
Harry glanced down, he had the distinct impression Draco didn't want him to see the books he was taking. Harry smiled to himself, deciding to use an old trick he had used on Cedric Diggory.
"Diffindo." He whispered. The seams of the bag ripped.
"Shit!" Draco muttered, as his books slid onto the dungeon floor.
Harry saw some of the titles as Draco picked them up. Before the Destruction: Facts and Fiction, Advanced Curses and Hexing, Beginners Necromancy, MageWars in History, Duelling: Swords and Spells.
"Had a nice long look, Potter?"
"What are you trying to do, Malfoy? Those are Dark Arts books."
"No really? If you hadn't noticed, this is DeathEater Central." He said, sarcasm edging his voice.
"What's going on?"
"Go ask Hermione. She'll tell you."
---
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The Malfoy Clan Gallery...
Padma Patil walked through the large hall filled with paintings. Most regarded her haughtily, some jeered. She took no notice of them. She stopped in front of a particularly old one. The painting depicted a dark skinned woman, the only one in the room.
She wore a beautiful blue silk dress and her hands were folded in her lap, clutching a lace handkerchief. Her eyes were a hazelnut brown and her hair was arranged in intricate raven ringlets. She looked down at Padma.
"And who be ye?" She asked, in a clear but cultured voice. "Ye are not of the Malfoy blood." Her lip curled.
"My name is Padma Patil."
"Thou are not one of Purity, it is clear to be seen."
"Who are you?" The woman's nose lifted higher.
"Lady Ravenna Valwracen Argentus Malfoy." She said. "What be your business, girl?"
"I am here with some of my friends. Narcissa Malfoy has had an- accident."
"Ah, the old consort of my uncle's heir."
"Your uncle?"
"Salazar Slytherin, ye know of 'a?"
"'a?"
"I forget thou are not familiar with my tongue. Ye know of him?"
"Yes, everyone knows of him...but I didn't know he had a sibling. Who?"
"Tis none of thine concern. Ye are on a Quest?"
"For a Healer."
"So the prophecy unfolds. Be ye of strong heart, thine world shalt change for eternity." Lady Ravenna smiled. "But then ye know little of this. I give thee one word of caution, for I realise ye are the one in the prophecy-"
"What?"
"'The lady of the Raven's house', ye are mentioned in the prophecy. So heed my syllables." She stopped.
Wilt break her sacred joining Vows.
The one of Flame will walk no more
If the Traitors walk with the Sorceror.
The Maid of Undead's wish shalt come to be
When the Lord comes forth with his plea.
But she too will join her minions state
Arion's rider will fulfill her Love's fate."
"I don't understand."
"Lady of the Raven's house, tis all the news I may bear. Now haste from here, tis the time to dine." Lady Ravenna settled back into her regal pose as if she nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
The dinner bell chimed.
---
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The Dinner Hall...
Fleur and Harry walked into the green-lit hall. The light flickered over the silver plates eerily and the shadows loomed grandiose over the table. Draco, Hermione, Padma, Sirius, Remus and Ron were already seated at the table. It was made of cut and polished crystal, jarringly modern in contrast with the rich decor of the room. Draco motioned for them to be seated.
He leaned back and picked up a large bronze club. With a calculated swing he hit the large gong behind him. The sound rung pure, the table vibrated ever so slightly. Precisely after the last chimes had dissipated, the large double-doors to the Hall swung open.
With measured steps, servants brought out platter after platter of food. The last dish was brought in and the room was filled with servants. Ron gaped in awe, there were at least ten in the room and every one of them ghosts.
Draco struck the gong again and the covers lifted off the dishes. The platters rose off the table and arranged themselves in a lethargically revolving circle, pausing at each plate. The servants faded away from view.
Hermione glanced down at her plate and swallowed uncertainly. She directed her gaze to Fleur and Draco, both were enjoying their food. Remus and Sirius seemed to be managing quite well, as was Padma. Harry, Ron and she glanced at each other.
Draco saw them. "I daresay you aren't used to the food?" He drawled.
"Well...that depends, what is it?" Harry said. Draco smiled, slightly patronisingly.
"Well, the shredded stuff is Choucroute, it's mainly cabbage. Your soup is Vichysoisse, cold fish soup, the meat is steak, plain and simple, only thing it's marinated in red wine. The dessert is blancmange, try it, it's excellent. The other dishes on the table are merely for taste, if you dare, that is." He smiled. "We also have some wine- it will be served after dinner with your chocolate mint."
There was an odd kind of silence for a few seconds. Nobody seemed sure of what to say. Nobody wanted to volunteer to begin the conversation.
"So Ron-..." Padma began, but something interrupted her.
"Master Malfoy, sir!" Darius whooshed through the wall.
Draco looked shocked. "Darius! The dinner code- and in front of guests too! Strict silence!"
"But Sir, it is a matter of the utmost and vital import!"
"Spit it out, then."
"Lord Malfoy is at the front door with the Master, sir." Padma gasped. Sirius went white.
"We can't let them take Narcissa." He said.
Draco glanced at him. "Nobody's doing anything of the sort. We'll finish our meal. Darius, invite Lord Malfoy in, it is his home after all, and extend your invitation to his companion."
Darius looked unsure but bowed and turned nonetheless.
"What are we going to do?" Ron said, worriedly.
"He's going to kill us." Padma said, with resignation.
"Not before I kill him." Harry muttered in response.
Lupin drew out his wand as Hermione steeled herself for the ordeal. She had never felt such loathing rise in her heart as now. A hatred as never before split her soul like a dark chasm. She said nothing.
Draco remained calm. "Let them come. Didn't you think they would?"
All of a sudden the doors once more burst open. The glowering red eyes of Voldemort stared piercingly at all in the room. Lucius Malfoy, shrouded in black, cowed behind.
"Would you like to dine with us?" Draco asked calmly. Voldemort looked surprised and took a step back.
"Where's Narcissa?" He hissed.
"You murdered her already, why ask?" Draco replied coolly. Voldemort's face contorted as Lucius Malfoy whitened..
"My God!" Voldemort said, reverting to his Muggle past. "But, did she say anything- about your sister?"
Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you want with Celeste?"
Voldemort turned away. Lucius stepped forward. "You've brought filth into my house, boy."
Draco stood up. "No. It's my house. I'd advise you to leave right now. You killed my mother and I shan't forget." Lucius backed away at the rage in his son's eyes.
Draco looked murderous, he blinked his eyes and, as with Pansy Parkinson, channelled his power. Lucius was on his knees, mumbling incoherently. Draco stepped closer and he flinched. Voldemort suddenly came between them.
"Enough!" He commanded. "You have been too insolent with the Dark Lord. Crucio." He hissed.
Draco hefted his staff out lazily. "Incanteum Reflecto, Magnificus Deca." He said. The jet of light suddenly pulsed and reversed direction, ten times more intense than before. It struck Lord Voldemort in his abdomen and he collapsed on the floor with a blood-curdling yell.
Within a second he was up again. "I am the greatest Dark WIzard in the world, little dragon. Did you think an ancient spell would vanquish me?"
"I can do more that that." Draco replied coolly. "Go from here, both of you, or the next spell will be fatal." Draco looked capable of it. His eyes were angry and his face contorted into a grimace of anger. "I've learned a couple of things, father, and I don't need you any more."
Only Harry and Hermione witnessed the scene with minimal surprise. Only they knew of the Trident's Curse and Draco's fate. Draco was Sorceror Daemersgrale's heir.
Voldemort turned his glowering eyes onto Draco's. "You act as if you are Salazar Slytherin, boy." He said quietly.
"He was my ancestor." Voldemort's face looked uncertain.
"Then you and I are- related." Harry looked aghast at such a normal conversation taking place between Voldemort and Draco Malfoy.
"It's a pity, that." Voldemort appeared not to have heard him.
"You, one of Slytherin's blood, consorts with Harry Potter?" He said venomously, turning his eyes onto Harry, who had stood up.
"He is a- friend." Draco said, Harry looked surprised, but no more so than Voldemort.
"Then- I will kill your unwisely chosen friend."
"Ah, like you killed him when he was a baby? Like you killed him in the Chamber of Secrets? Like you killed him after the Triwizard Tournament? Like you killed him at the All-England Quidditch Cup?" Draco let his scorn sink into him. "I don't think so...what I do think, however, is- that he will kill you." Draco smiled maliciously. "Darius, show our departing guests out."
Draco Malfoy turned and sat down at the dinner table. The only evidence of his shock were his shaking fingers.
The clock chimed nine.
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