Part 4

Draco left Ron in the front seat of his car and trudged up the stairs to his place. The letter was still tight in his fist. He had already memorized it.

"I have learned of the tragic circumstances in which your magic was taken from you, and there is but one person in all of the world who can help you, and you do not want that help, because the price is bound to be painful. She goes by the name of Fenella. Never the less, if you wish for the information that can lead you to your savior or your death, you can find it through the mouth of Lucius Malfoy."

His father's name rang clear in his head, over and over again, like bells. He tried to drown it out, but to no avail.

The author of the note was unknown, at least, Flint didn't share the information. Delivered the message, paid him, and off with the merchandise to sell to the wizarding world at inflated prices.

Draco left the note on the coffee table and stepped into the bathroom, meaning to drown his doubts and fears under the shower spray. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and stared in the mirror at his reflection-the tiny scars on his hands and arms from acidic potions that had still managed to burn through his gloves, the large one on his shoulder from a cauldron blowing up on him. He thanked his stars again that it had missed his face.

He wasn't unhappy with himself. What he was, it was nothing compared to his years as Lucius Malfoy's son. Draco Malfoy had nothing, not even friends. Every one was too afraid of him, or hated him. But as just Draco he had Deirdre and a few friends. He took pride in being able to support himself. He had a life.

He finished undressing and opened the shower door.

Myrtle looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Ahh!" Draco jumped back, reaching for a towel to cover himself.

He fumbled with the towel, nearly dropping it on the floor as he wrapped it around his waist. "Don't bother," Myrtle said gloomily. "It's not like I've never seen it before."

"Excuse me?"

"In the Prefect's bathroom, at Hogwarts."

Draco picked up his trousers and put them on under the towel. "You're Moaning Myrtle, aren't you?"

She almost smiled. "Good to know someone remembers me."

"Why are you in my shower?"

"I was waiting for Ron," she sniffed. "I wanted to make him apologize for breaking up with me." Draco started laughing. "What?" she asked, irked.

"You're-you're Weasley's girl friend?" He laughed harder. "And I thought I was pitiful, dating a muggle. This is great. Thank you. You've made me feel a lot better."

"I've made you feel better..." She crossed her arms. "I see how it is. I don't have to put up with this. I'm leaving." She swept herself down the drain.

Though amused, Draco did not enjoy his shower, weary that the ghost would return up the drain or through the showerhead.

Ron was in the living room cradling his head in his arms and moaning. "Something wrong, Weasley?" Draco asked somewhat nastily.

"I feel like I've been run over by a truck...took too much. It got very bad very quickly."

"Well, poor ickle baby. Did you read this?" He picked up the parchment and tossed it into Ron's lap.

"I tried to, but the words ran together. For a moment I thought I had forgotten how to read."

"Let me enlighten you," Draco said harshly. "It says that we can get our powers back. That we can be whole men once again, and stop living like freaks. It also said that my father, the bastard, has the answer. What have you to say about that?"

Ron collapsed on the couch. "Got any aspirin?"

"Whatever." Draco picked up his jacket and walked out the door, leaving Ron to his misery.

***

Draco returned hours later, not drunk, not with Deirdre on his arm. He had simply walked. Walked for three hours before returning. Ron was waiting for him.

"It says we have to talk to your father."

"No bloody kidding."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"I can get you in to see him."

"How? It's next to impossible to get into Azkaban these days."

"My brother is on the board. Junior member, currently. But it's enough. He can get us clearance."

"You really think your brother's going to help you? Or me, for that matter?"

Ron frowned. "Oh yeah. Well, he might be forgiving."

"You are pitiful. And in denial."

***

"I can't believe I'm standing in front of your house. God, it's worse than I ever imagined."

"Thanks so much," Ron sneered.

"No problem," Draco remarked as Ron opened the door.

They found Ginny in the kitchen, pulling a cake out of the oven. She almost dropped it when she looked up to find the two men in front of her. "Scare me to death, why don't you!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" She looked over Ron's shoulder at Draco. "You really have hit rock bottom, haven't you? Spending your time with him, of all people I thought you-well. You are a looser."

Ron sighed, not wanting to argue. "Is Percy here?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He and Draco left the kitchen, heading upstairs.

"I can't say I ever liked your sister much, Weasley."

"I'd have to agree with you there." They knocked on the door of what had once been Fred and George's bedroom, which had been converted into Percy's office.

"Come in." Percy was seated at his desk going over paperwork. He looked up when they entered, taking off his reading glasses. "Ah, my errant brother. Returning, is he? How touching. And he's brought a little friend. Wonderful."

"Look, Percy-"

"Do you know what Mother's been going through these past few days? She was in a perfect panic, thinking you were lying dead in a gutter somewhere, until Fred stopped by last night."

"I-"

"I hope you're happy," Percy continued as Ron looked on sullenly, past Percy and at the bookcase behind him.

He finally decided to simply ignore his brother's comments. "I need a favor, Rather, Draco does."

"And another thing. How dare you bring a Malfoy into this house."

Draco stepped into the argument. "I am not a Malfoy," Draco said firmly. "Not any more."

Percy looked at him warily-his torn jeans, worn boots, and black t-shirt. "Well, you certainly don't look like one. Okay. What do you want?"

"I wish to see Lucius Malfoy. To tell him that I have renounced the Malfoy family name." His fine breeding took it's place in his voice and words, no matter how poor he looked.

'Won't do any good, even if I were to say yes. He's a high security prisoner. Between the lasting effects of the dementors and the spells on him, I doubt he would even realize what was going on."

"I still want to see him."

Percy leaned back in his chair. "Tough."

Ron stepped back in, glancing at Draco. "We've got dirt on you, Percy."

Draco caught on immediately. "And pictures," he grinned evilly.

"You're running for a permanent spot on that board. Imagine how many votes you would loose if they found out that Percy Weasley was a homosexual? Or his brother is a junkie and a squib? Family falling apart while he hides in his office with the respectable Mrs. Longbottom's grandson?"

Percy looked at his brother defiantly. "You wouldn't."

Draco spoke up. "I would."

He sighed. "Okay. If I do this for you-and I don't know why-you have to do one thing for me, Ron. Clean up your act. Personally, I don't care what you do with your life. But Mother does, and you owe it to her."

***

Azkaban was much like it had been before the return of He Who Must Not Be Named, except it had been void of dementors for two years. The prisoners were kept in check by powerful spells, some which were so strong they were reduced to drooling fools.

The guard lead Draco into the empty little room (leaving Ron in the hall to wait), where a man was sitting in a chair.

Lucius Malfoy stared at them with empty eyes. He was thin and dirty. His hair had grown long, hanging limp in matted clumps over the shoulders of tattered robes. "You father, Mr. Malfoy," the guard said formally.

"Leave us," Draco said in a tight voice.

The guard nodded. "I'll be outside the door if there's trouble. But personally, between the dementors and the spells on him, I don't think he's got enough mind to attack anyone." He left, shutting the heavy door behind him.

Draco stood, silent, staring at his father's form. The man that he had been so frightened of in early childhood, hated but obeyed during his teenage years, and pushed away in an attempt to block out his existence as an adult. Now his stood in front of him, pitiful, nothing but an empty shell.

"Hello father." A flash of recognition in the man's eyes, then it was gone. "I'm not here to see you. I don't give a shit about you. It's your fault I'm here in the first place."

"That boy of yours is a terrible seeker, Narcissa. It's a wonder *I* even let him on the team."

Draco stared. "Perfect. Bloody perfect. Well I'll tell you something. I never wanted to be a seeker. I hated being a seeker. I would have made a much better chaser. But no. I had to show up the fabulous Harry Potter-" His voice was cut short.

"Yes, my most gracious master."

Draco knew his father wasn't hearing a word he said. He was lost forever in his own world. It didn't stop him from ranting. "I hate you, you know that? If you were in any other state, I would kill you on the spot. I don't even use your name anymore. I've denounced the Malfoy name. What do you think of that?"

Silence.

"Look, old man. You made my life a living hell. The least you could do is acknowledge that your only son-the last of the Malfoy line-has abandoned the Malfoy family."

Silence.

Draco shook with anger. His father, sitting in the chair, looked up at him. He hit him once, hard, backhanding him in the face. Lucius Malfoy fell from the chair. Draco kicked him in the side. Still no reaction. He didn't even try to get up.

He hauled him up on his feet.

Draco stared at his father's dull eyes. "You're not a person. You don't hear what I say. You have no information that can help me." He stood up and turned away to leave. "There's probably no such person as this Fenella woman," he muttered to himself.

"The prophet Fenella, who foretold the Dark Lord's final downfall."

Draco turned back around. "What?"

His father's voice, no longer misty and distant, was strong. "Once a Death Eater, she went into hiding after the Lord's first defeat. Before her disappearance, she made a prophecy. My Lord destroyed it. All that is known is that it concerned three who once had powers, but are now barren."

Draco stared at his father. "Where can I find her?"

"She fled North. One wizard knows of her location."

"Who?" Silence. "Who, dammit!"

"He's at Hogwarts."

Draco stepped away from his father. "Okay."

***

He slammed the door open. "Well?" Ron asked.

Draco kept his eyes forward. "We have to pay a visit to Severus Snape."

**

A/N 4: So it begins. Finally! Yes, I have a plot! :) Who knew that the fun little slash gag at the beginning would be useful? (I certainly didn't.) Chapter five, enter Hermione (finally), and Sevvie's cameo.