Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter. Don't sue me.
CHAPTER 12 - GHOSTS OF THE PAST
Back at Hogwarts, Brandon looked down at the Hogwarts yearbook for 1977, a book
that he now wished he'd never opened. In the interests of curiosity, his main
besetting sin, he'd agreed with Draco that the coincidence of his mother's name
was too interesting to ignore. It was interesting, oh yes...but he could have
lived without that particular knowledge. The pictures of his mother
(undoubtedly his mother) wearing Slytherin robes and hugging a teenage version
of their DADA teacher - who was hugging her back as if he had the right - were
all too damning.
Ben Greyson's face was open, pleasant - he was sandy haired, with clear blue
eyes and friendly features...his father had the same features, his mother the
same colouring. Kate's hair was rich and dark, she was quite beautiful, but she
didn't have the clear-cut elegance of centuries of selective breeding...and her
eyes were green. But Lucien Brandon Malfoy - at fifteen years old, and even now
- looked far more like Bran than Benjamin ever had, even allowing for shared
features and Kate's blood. And the eyes, the silver eyes, were the key. Bran's
eyes were the same colour as Luc's, as Draco's, and as Draco's father. It was
undeniable - completely incontrovertible - and it was clearly impossible. Five
or six years lay in between Kate's disappearance and Bran's birth...
He wasn't sure that he wanted to believe the evidence of his eyes and his
magic. Because it was true, no matter the fact that Kate and Luc had not met in
twenty years, no matter that she had been wed to another man a full nine months
before Bran's birth...
He was Luc Malfoy's son.
And that meant that his mother had lied to him, all his life; she'd known,
surely she'd known of his paternity…of course she had, otherwise she wouldn't
have tried so hard to ensure he knew something of the High Clan, of the Game.
All those late night fights between his parents were now explained - her
insistence on his extra education - the languages and the etiquette, the
history and the philosophy, and most of all the discipline she had always
expected of him and that he had always hated...
She'd expected him, from a very early age, to be intelligent, articulate, and
self-controlled, subtle, cynical, and self-reliant. He supposed she'd been
preparing him for the day when he encountered the High Clan and the truth of
his birth, but at the time he hadn't quite appreciated that...he'd been much
too concerned with pleasing his father - the man he'd known as his father - by
ruling his school and his classmates, on field and off, and sowing his wild
oats, as his father had once put it.
He'd been the perfect Gryffindor - popular and well liked, up to every
challenge and dare, and too secure in his own immortality to even think the
world was a dangerous place. A natural athlete physically, mentally and
magically, he'd been successful at everything he'd turned his hand to, and he'd
never thought of himself as innocent or, indeed, as any different from anyone
else.
The first time he'd met the true Draco Malfoy, he'd recognized the epitome of
what Kate had tried to mould him into, and he'd been, despite himself, despite
the scepticism instilled by his father's disparagement, quite
impressed...perhaps enough of his mother's strictures on subtle authority and
self-control had sunk in for him to appreciate just how much influence Malfoy
wielded, and with what skill...but it had been purely academic appreciation.
He'd not identified with Malfoy, not classed himself as one of "them"
- he'd been an outsider, different from them with their High Clan ways and
their Death Eater forebears.
And now, it seemed, he was indeed one of "them", by blood, if not by
birth and upbringing...and he could no longer hold himself aloof in his
superiority. His father was not an influential Auror liaison with a spotless
reputation; his family was not upright, sturdy and moral New England stock.
His father was an ex-Death Eater, a bastard son who hadn't kept to his place
but had taken control of a trading House (instant upper class disdain
manifested) by murdering anyone else who stood in his way...oh, he knew there
was no proof, but everyone knew it - just as they couldn't conclusively prove
who'd slaughtered Caine de Sauvigny, his main rival and half-brother, but were
all but certain that it had been Luc. He was a conscienceless, remorseless
killer and he felt no regret or guilt for the crimes he had committed, but
instead regarded them as the necessary price for success.
His family...well, his family on his mother's side he knew - a muggle aunt and
uncle and cousin, who, from all he had heard, were quite...well, vulgar was
really the only word he could think of, no matter how top-lofty that
sounded...and there was Harry Potter, whom he'd met once or twice and thought
quite modest, despite his fame - or perhaps because of it. Had he not been a
Slytherin, and Potter a Gryffindor, he thought he would have honestly liked
him...
And on his father's side - House Malfoy, the oldest, coldest and most powerful
Clan in society, respected, or perhaps feared, throughout the wizarding
world...notorious, throughout history, for their ruthlessness and their intrigues...more
than capable of taking what they wanted through overwhelming force, they
preferred the more subtle, less obvious methods that would draw less attention
to their land and estates, and would deflect the more boldly ambitious
warlords' greedy eyes elsewhere. Ruling through manipulation was much easier
than ruling through force.
As for the House, well, it was just as ambitious and ruthless as the Malfoy,
with a past just as notorious, although it had been relatively clean since the
balance between Slytherin and Gryffindor children had begun to shift in
Gryffindor's favour - the stories about Jean-Marc's son
Mikhail's...expansion...into Hong Kong had been legendary...and Luc's ascension
had provided more fodder. How an unacknowledged, bastard son had even come near
the seat of the tai-pan had become legend almost immediately after he took
over, and it got wilder and wilder with the telling. He was ambitious,
ruthless, and brilliant - his name was spoken with awe in the financial
quarters of both Diagon Alley and Muggle London...
So here he was, Brandon Greyson/Malfoy, with a mudblood for a mother and a
"prince of the highest High Clan" for a father...the child of two
almost opposite extremes.
And the Lady only knew what that made him, or what he felt about it at the
moment.
As for how it all came about, what factors had led to this crazy situation...
He closed the book slowly, shutting off the sight of all the photographs
looking out on the real world, trapped in a happy memory or a triumphant moment
of time - such as the 1977 Quidditch final, Slytherin v Gryffindor - a game
that was legendary even now. He knew the story: Gryffindor's wonder team, the
veritable Gods of the school, against the Lords of Slytherin, the elite circle
of aristocratic Slytherin High Clan heirs - so completely matched that it had
been more than three hours before, after a furious chase involving spectacular
aerial acrobatics, Slytherin seeker Katherine Evans had finally snatched the
snitch right out of James Potter's hands...and had received a bludger straight
to the head, smashed deliberately and maliciously by Sirius Black...
Only Dumbledore, the other Lords, and the former Slytherin head of house,
Professor Carus, knew how close Black had come to death when Luc realized who
had hit that bludger...
So Kate had died, or disappeared, and everything had gone to hell after that.
Within a year, Voldemort had become more than a crackpot nuisance, most, or
indeed all, of the Lords had bent knee to the Dark Lord, and the world turned
upside down and inside out.
From talking to Kate, Bran knew that during their sixth year, the Malfoy
brothers had not yet contemplated joining Voldemort's crusade – so what had
changed in twelve months to see them both turn towards him?
And he did know they were both Death Eaters, or at least they had both been,
and Lucius still was - you couldn't stay for any amount of time in Slytherin
and not learn of the affairs of the High Clan. Rumour ran on wings throughout
the whole of the wizarding world, and Slytherin was a hotbed of intrigue, speculation,
rumours and gossip – especially about the major players of the Game.
As much as was known about them, there was much that was hidden, or that wasn't
discussed, and playing without knowing all the rules and all the information
was a major disadvantage. Such as the knowledge that he himself was now a very
valuable pawn, and his mother even more so. Now he knew why the others stared
curiously at him and then at Luc, why his unconscious use of his wandless powers,
far more common now than it had been before he'd met Draco, caused others to
raise their eyebrows in unspoken speculation.
And possessing that small, vital piece of knowledge - not just supposition, but
knowledge - he'd be able to contribute his own part to the Game. But he would
be even more crippled if he only knew one fact, and not the vital background
information – so he asked. If he was,
indeed, a child of the Malfoy, then he had a right to know, to understand.
He would ask Draco.
**********************************
They were lounging outside on the grass, underneath some shady trees, watching
the clouds in the blue, blue sky - at least Bran was, he rather thought Crabbe
and Goyle were off in their own little world, somewhere beyond the ken of
anyone who could think for themselves. Nick had closed his eyes and was lying,
sprawled flat out on his back, 'meditating', and Marc, quite conspicuous in his
red and gold trimmed robes, was nonetheless quite comfortably lounging with his
head pillowed on Nick's stomach, also meditating.
He had noticed that the Slytherins were quite unreserved about casual touches,
between both male and female, especially when both were of an equal rank.
Between Nick, Marc, and Draco, the touches bordered on intimate – he'd remarked
on this, once, and Nick had only shrugged and said that the ardeur tied them
all together, and touching reinforced it. He'd smiled with almost feral
mockery, and added that sex reinforced it even more...
Bran hadn't had the courage to pick up that gauntlet.
Leaning back, lazy in the afternoon sun, he'd been thinking of the revelations
of the morning, and about his father, Luc Malfoy, the tai- pan, and his rather…unusual
relationship with Snape. He'd had the feeling that it all related back to the
Death Eater days, running so deep it was still valid today - and that it could
have a very significant impact on the war they all knew was coming. Incomplete
information could be fatal...
So turning to Draco, sitting cross legged in the lotus position, still managing
to maintain an air of dignity, he stared at him until the eyelids had lifted in
that blank, serene face, and silver eyes stared with mild curiosity into his.
"Snape and your uncle haven't come back yet?" he asked almost absently,
thanking his mother for teaching him tact and indirect speaking.
For all his lessons, he was still only a learner - he hadn't had much practice
putting his skills to use. Draco had been playing verbal games all his life.
"No, I don't believe so," he murmured noncommittally, blocking the
question.
The look in Draco's eyes - dispassionate measurement - daunted him for a moment
until he reminded himself that he, too, was Malfoy – for what it was worth,
unacknowledged as he was. He squared his shoulders and met those Slytherin eyes
steadily.
"Do you suppose they're lovers?" he tried for shock value, this time,
but was spectacularly unsuccessful - Draco's eyes reflected only amusement at
Bran's frustration.
"Not now," came the reply almost absently. At Bran's scowl, he gave
up and laughed. "Not this time, and not for a while, from what I
know..."
Finally, Bran conceded defeat. "Why not?" He asked bluntly. The two
de Sauvigny boys had opened their eyes halfway and were watching them both,
veiled eyes amused beneath their concealing lids. They seemed to be indifferent
to the conversation, but he noticed that they were concentrating beneath their
masks...
Draco smiled thinly. "Do you want the short version, or the long
one?"
Bran affected a bored yawn - not a particularly obvious one, because that would
be rude, but a small, languid one. It was, he supposed, the equivalent of
languidly waving his scented handkerchief, or taking a pinch of snuff...
"By all means," he drawled in his best High Clan accent, as if he were
affected with terminal ennui, "let us have the long version; I vow, we've
nothing else to do today..."
Eyes laughing, Nick reached over and swatted Bran's arm. "Respect your
betters, Yank," he half scowled. "And besides, your accent is bloody
awful..."
Draco cleared his throat half seriously, and Nick turned his attention
dutifully towards him. The look in those silver eyes was enough to quell any
levity. "What you must understand," Draco's voice was now quite
serious, "is that however many years ago, Voldemort was not nearly as
feared as he is today..." he inclined his head in acknowledgement of
Bran's half flinch at hearing Draco say the name so casually.
"He was regarded as something of an eccentric, a crackpot guru much like
all the other cultists who abounded in the Muggle world, living in communes and
exploring their spirituality. His message of racial purity was seen as old and
stereotypical, and his promise of a new world nothing more than any of the
other would-be revolutionaries of the century had ever preached. He had very
few followers, and they were only those with nothing to lose by going against
the current authorities."
Bran nodded - Professor Malfoy had been teaching all of this in DADA, but on a
general basis. Here, he believed he was going to get a more comprehensive,
detailed view...
"One of his earliest followers was Augustus Snape, Professor Snape's
father. Even then, the Snapes had little money and less legitimate power – they
had just enough to get by, and maintained their status in society because of their
brilliance with Potions; the Snapes have always been Potions Masters, going
back to the very first. But Augustus wanted more than that - he wanted to wield
real power, real influence, but couldn't do that under the current Ministry.
Hence his devotion to Tom Riddle, a half blood son of a third rate House - had
matters been otherwise, he would never even have spared the man a second
glance."
Bran smirked. Draco would never be accused of favouring class equality...
"But to lend real credibility to his cause, Voldemort needed the support
and backing of the powerful players, the leaders of the High Clan. He played on
their prejudices, their grievances, their desires and their ambitions, talking
of the pitiful economic climate breaking many of the old Houses, blaming it on
the Muggles and their wars and secret weapons build up, playing on their fears
of the Muggles rising up and turning against them, and promising them a return
to the old days when the High Clan ruled supreme, without the interference of
the peasants..."
Nick nodded. "Tell them what's going wrong, what they should fear, and then
give them someone to blame – it's how Hitler got into power, how he convinced
an otherwise rational populace to do what it did."
Bran raised a brow. "I thought you Slytherin elite didn't approve of
anything to do with Muggles."
Marc laughed softly. "Luc always says that as long as they're willing to
give him money, he doesn't care whether the customers are Muggles, wizards or
anything in between. The House operates fully in both the Muggle and the real
world, and he deals with Muggles everyday; to do that, you have to know all
about them and their world…"
"A very practical man," mused Bran, mentally reevaluating his
biological father.
"Oh, yes," murmured Draco. "But then, he's had to be..." he
uncurled from his lotus position and stretched out on the ground, crossing his
hands under his head. "Gradually," he continued, "gradually more
and more High Clan Lords and scions crossed over to his side, lured by the
promise of what everything they wanted to hear, until really the only
influential Lords not on his side were Marcus Malfoy, my grandfather, and
others who were, in the larger picture, quite irrelevant – but the Lord of Clan
Malfoy was the one feather Voldemort needed in his cap to convince all the
doubters, and Marcus failed to comply."
"What?" interjected Bran, thoroughly surprised. "I thought the
Malfoy would be the first to join."
Draco only looked at him, and Bran had the grace to flush.
Ignoring it, the sprawled and supine Malfoy heir went on. "He had no need
to upset the status quo - it was all too favourable to him as it was - but he
had reckoned without Augustus Snape, who was bound and determined to see his
Lord succeed at any cost. He'd already managed to secure Malfoy patronage for
his only son and heir, who had now gained the friendship - if not the trust -
of both the Malfoy brothers..."
"He tried reasoning, first, and then bribes and promises. When that didn't
work, he turned to threats, and finally to sabotage – some planted evidence,
enough to bury even Marcus Malfoy, in the hands of an ambitious, well-connected
auror with more zeal than sense, and no responsible Clan Lord could ignore such
a threat. Conveniently for Snape, news leaked that this auror had important
evidence about well-placed Death Eaters, and that the information would shock
the wizarding world to its core. He did everything but outright accuse Marcus
of being a Death Eater – certainly it was more than implied."
Draco's smile was thin and strangely bitter. "My grandfather would not be
bribed, or reasoned with, or threatened, so when manipulation failed, it was
time for force. Marcus broke into his house the night before the release of the
information, and found the auror dead in a most horrific manner, along with his
family and his servants, and the information gone, with the Dark Mark in the
sky above the roof. Two days later, he found out where the information was, and
the price for its retrieval..."
He broke off, flicking his hand. "I don't know the exact details, and I
don't think there is anyone still alive, other than Voldemort, who still does; suffice
it to say that things got worse and Marcus was drawn deeper and deeper into the
shadows, until at last even his will was broken down and he gave in - and the
Lady knows what threat prompted that - finally bending his will to the Dark
Lord's. And then Snape's final revenge struck."
Marc raised brilliant blue eyes to Draco's silver - they could have been limpid
with mockery, and no doubt they should have been, had these been normal
circumstances. But something of the story they were hearing had come through to
them - the hopeless story of a man fighting against overwhelming odds and
slowly being dragged under. It was almost Gryffindoric, really...
"Marcus thought to turn traitor against his new Lord." Draco's voice
was impassive and colourless, and his face was empty - all signs that what he
was saying was affecting him deeply. "He set up a meeting with an
influential Ministry member who trusted him enough to believe his word over the
word on the street, saying Malfoy had turned, and could no longer be trusted.
Somehow Snape got word of it, and sent word of his own to another foolish auror
with more zeal than sense, advising him anonymously that a notorious Death
Eater would attempt to assassinate a ministry member on that night, and to be
extra vigilant..."
Nick made an almost silent hiss as he realized where this was going, and a half
instinctive avert sign with his hand, almost as if he could will away what was
coming. But the lifeless voice continued.
"There was indeed an attempt on the ministry member's life -
unfortunately, the ministry member was killed and his house destroyed, along
with the Death Eater, who was identified as a young sprig of an aristocratic
Russian family, the overzealous auror and another, anonymous body that was
never identified; and any witnesses to Marcus Malfoy's death and innocence were
eliminated with one throw of the dice."
He smiled mirthlessly. "But word spread quickly enough through the High
Clan grapevine. It was the very next morning when the two Malfoy brothers were
awakened to the news, delivered by a triumphant headline in the Prophet, that
their father was dead and the Ministry suspected him of having close ties to
the Death Eaters. They very nearly lost everything in that investigation."
Crabbe and Goyle, who had been listening to this, blank faced and vacant eyed,
suddenly chose to speak up. "I thought," said Crabbe with malice
glinting in his rather small eyes, "that the Malfoy were all powerful and
all knowing?"
Bran, Nick and Marc blinked at this show of independent thought, but Draco
didn't turn a hair. He had known of this, they realized. Had known that Crabbe
and Goyle could think for themselves, and could pose a potential danger; he
played a far deeper game than they had previously thought.
Draco's eyes were utterly blank as he turned to face his two henchmen. He
didn't bother to say anything, simply let his power flare slightly, let it
brush tangibly against the air and the skin, alerting him to the level of his
power, should he choose to unleash it. The reminder was hardly subtle, but
clearly effective. Crabbe and Goyle backed down - at least for now.
He continued on as if there had been no interruption. "The two brothers,
already slightly disillusioned from the knowledge that their father had bent
knee, although they had known it was coming for a long while, were quite upset
by his death and the subsequent investigation - upset and outraged by both the
elder Snape and by the Ministry..." he paused, reflectively, and then
continued. "And then, almost a month later, Luc's only anchor, Kate, is
killed by a bludger, leaving him quite undone..."
Bran frowned. "But she didn't die," he pointed out, "she
disappeared."
Draco nodded. "I have always found that to be rather too convenient – perhaps
there's something more to that, too. And then two weeks later, Augustus Snape
was found, the victim of a slow and horrible death, exquisitely painful and
quite imaginative..."
"There was no Death Eater retaliation?" asked
Nick, always practical.
"No," Draco said in bitter amusement. "You see, that was the price
of my father's Dark Mark."
Dead
silence fell. A line had been crossed, something put into words that had never
before been said. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater - they all knew it, but it
had never been admitted openly between them.
"Revenge?" ventured Bran, braver, or perhaps more foolhardy than the
other two.
"Is it not the new Lord's duty to properly avenge his predecessor's death?
And to ensure the survival of his Clan above his own wellbeing? If he had not
joined, Voldemort would have made short work of an inexperienced, sixteen year
old boy; perhaps he thought he could keep himself aloof, and not be sucked
under, once he had fulfilled his purpose for joining. Perhaps he knew exactly
what he was getting into, and had decided to make the best he could of it."
"And Luc?" asked Marc, fascinated and repelled by such coldblooded
machinations, mixed with the passion that ran through everything the Malfoy
did. The key, he supposed, was to harness it...
"Luc knew exactly what he was getting himself into, and was more than
willing to pay the price; of course, there were easier ways of eliminating the
competition for tai-pan, but none so quick or so...sure. And there was the
extra bonus of another revenge - against Snape, yes, I'm quite sure that he was
in on that - but also against Black, against the Ministry who had so callously
invaded their grief and their mourning, against the whole world now that there
was nothing but cold ambition to live for..."
"Why not against Voldemort, who started the whole process?" asked
Bran, the outsider who saw clearly to the heart of the matter.
"Ah, now that is the point: you see, they could achieve revenge against
Snape, and against the Ministry, and against the rest of the world, if they
took the Dark Mark. If they went up against Voldemort alone, especially then,
then perhaps they would have died, and the Malfoy line with them. Perhaps it
would be easier to do what could be done and to leave other, larger, more
difficult considerations for later, when they were stronger, more sure of
themselves."
"They are stronger and surer now," said Nick quietly. "But why
has Lucius gone back?"
Draco sighed, closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know," he
murmured finally. "I honestly don't know." But looking into those
eyes, Nick saw the deception there, saw the lie at the bedrock of the half-truth,
and wondered just what Draco was playing at. The other two, Bran and Marc, not
being so familiar as Nick with Draco's moods and expressions, saw nothing
amiss, but to Draco's right hand, there was just the slightest hint that
something was wrong, that there was something left unsaid, something very, very
important.
As they got up off the ground, groaning good naturedly about tired muscles and
old age, the intensity of the former conversation was lost, and they reverted
back to fifteen year old boys. But still, not looking behind them, they were
not aware of the calculation deep in the usually blank eyes of Crabbe and
Goyle, who had been told to watch out for signs that the Malfoy were
considering any disloyalty...
Only Draco knew. And he had been ordered to plant the seeds himself, and then
to let them grow...and then to ignore them, when the time came...He hoped his
father knew what he was doing.
**************************************
