The dining room of the Manner swiftly whirled into focus around him, and
after taking a moment to let the spinning stop, Draco stepped out of his
own familiar fireplace.
In his immense relief to be home, the tension in his stomach began to slip away. He grinned nervously to himself, and ran his hand through his hair.
BANG!
The door flew open, and in swept Lucius Malfoy, his face as cold and expressionless as usual.
The smile on Draco's face disappeared almost instantly, and the knots which had just been beginning to loosen in his stomach immediately tightened again.
"F-father."
"Good evening, Draco," his father's drawled, still showing no emotion. "You certainly took your time getting home."
Draco hesitated for a moment, not sure quite how to respond.
"I, uh... You see, I..." Draco stammered, desperately trying to think of something to say, and at the same time, waiting nervously for his father's short fuse to blow, and for his future to be scarred by some sort of hideously traumatising punishment.
Nothing.
Lucius Malfoy continued to stare at his son for a moment, before raising his hand to his mouth, clearing his throat, and turning towards the door.
"Somebody to see you."
Draco's eyebrows shot up so high they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline as Noah Baron-Williams walked into the room.
What was HE doing here? As if regaling his father with stories of his apparating catastrophe wouldn't be fun enough, he now had to explain his failure to the man who had been so sure that he would succeed.
Draco broke out in a cold sweat, and directed his glance ashamedly at his feet.
"Master Malfoy," as Noah spoke, Draco slowly looked up to meet his eyes. "Welcome back to the wizarding world." Noah reached into a small satchel he was carrying, and pulled out a small scroll of parchment, fastened with the Ministry of Magic's recognisable red wax seal. He presented it to Draco.
A wave of confusion washed over Draco. He had already received his notice of failure, so what was this? Surely it wasn't necessary to receive a second confirmation of his idiocy. And in front of his father, of all people? Draco cringed, and fingered the parchment warily - could it be a Howler in disguise? He shuddered at the thought, his imagination working overtime trying to conjure up any kind of explanation for the piece of parchment in his hand.
"Well don't just stand there like a fool, Draco." Lucius Malfoy said coldly. "Open it." He turned to Noah Baron-Williams, who nodded towards Draco.
His hands shaking, Draco broke the seal on the parchment and began to unroll it. As he opened it, rows of letters began to arrange themselves in front of his eyes.
"Read it aloud." Noah instructed.
Draco's eyes widened in horror, yet he obeyed.
"For the attention of Draco Malfoy," he read, his eyes widening more and more as he read further down the page.
"This is to certify that you have reached the required standard necessary to pass your official Apparating Test." Draco stopped reading, and shook his head. He re-read the previous few lines, and looked up. "But this can't be right. I-I thought that..."
"Carry on." Noah was grinning.
Draco uneasily smiled back, still avoiding his father's cold glare. He continued to read.
"You have successfully completed stage 2(i) of the Apparating Test, whereby you were deliberately sent to a popular Muggle zone and expected to find your way home without the aid of magic. It is necessary to be able to act rationally in the face of an emergency situation without jeopardising the secrecy of the wizarding world.
"Congratulations! You are now entitled to apparate to any area you desire. This is a magnificent privilege - use it well."
Draco grinned as he stopped reading aloud, and skimmed the last few paragraphs. Along with his ability to now pop, quite literally, in and out as he pleased, he was also entitled to free treatment at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries if he managed to splinch himself, or receive any other such 'damage' as a result of apparation.
"But Noah," Draco began, speaking slowly, although his brain felt as though it was working at a hundred miles an hour, "I don't understand... What about Next Street? How did I..."
Noah laughed.
"Ah yes, a clever charm that one." Noah stared at the ceiling wistfully. "Invented and patented by Brutus Abbott in the seventeenth century." As Draco continued to look baffled, Noah elaborated. "A simple re-directional charm. It's been used for years." He laughed. "It's always been one of my favourite ones; sending young witches and wizards in the direction of Oxford and landing them on Oxford Street. It's almost a shame we examiners can't see you once you've disapparated. I can't even imagine the hilarity in watching panic set in when you think you've failed..."
"Yeah, bloody hysterical." Draco muttered under his breath.
"But you've passed, and that's the important thing." Noah cheerfully added. "No need for Floo powder anymore. I find it a rather dusty way to travel, always feel a bit grubby afterwards. Speaking of grubby," Noah lent towards Draco and whispered in his ear, "you have ash in your hair."
Draco half-smiled. "Thanks for that."
"No problem." He winked. "I never really liked the Leaky Cauldron's terminal, always preferred the one in the basement at Selfridges." He raised his eyebrow at Draco, who nearly choked the breath of air he had just inhaled.
"Anyway, my work here is done." His eyes twinkled as he smiled at Draco. "Many congratulations." He turned and bowed to Lucius, who had barely moved since entering the room. "And good day to you, Mister Malfoy."
Lucius nodded frigidly in return.
Noah disapparated with a pop.
Lucius turned to Draco. "I'm still waiting to hear your explanation of why it took you so long to get home."
Draco froze. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore his father's grey eyes boring into his own. He decided it would probably not be the best idea to tell his father that he had spent the whole day with a girl of muggle parentage, and he KNEW that his father would not want to hear the rest of the story.
When his son didn't answer, Lucius rolled his eyes. "Get out of my sight." As Draco turned to leave the room, his father continued speaking. "By the way, your mother and I are going out now." Draco turned back to face him. "We've been invited to dinner with Cornelius Fudge and his wife." He shook his head, as if the idea of dinner with the Minister of Magic could be seen as nothing but a recipe for monotony.
Draco's tall, blonde mother waltzed into the room clothed in her expensive burgundy dress robes. She smiled faintly at her son as she took her husband's arm. "We will be back at midnight."
With that, the two of them disapparated.
Draco scratched behind his ear, wondering what to do with himself until midnight. He took off his jacket and smirked to himself.
POP!
It was a pleasant thing not to have to walk up the steep flights of stairs to his room.
Draco hung up his jacket, and walked over to where the mirror hung. Noah was right, he did have ash in his hair. He dusted it out, and stretched his arms out to full length above his head. He yawned.
It had been a pretty exhausting day.
He glanced out of his bedroom door at the levitating grandfather clock on the landing. He was free to apparate as he so desired, and had all the time in the world...
Draco grinned to himself as an idea came to him. He reached across to where his jacket hung, and put it back on. Standing in front of the mirror, he reached over to a nearby shelf and took hold of a tube of 'Magical Vanity Gel'. Squeezing some into his hands, he massaged in into his scalp.
"Keratin-morpheus!" He commanded. The magical gel began to style his hair for him.
Satisfied with the final result, Draco flashed a dazzling, yet rather arrogant, grin at his reflection. His sharply defined spikey hair definitely had a desirable affect on him, anybody could see that. He only hoped that Hermione was as impressed with the real him as he was with his own reflection. He laughed at his own conceit, and wiggled his eyebrow at his mirror-self.
"Adora!" Draco yelled, still facing the mirror. He heard his house elf racing up the stairs, tripping over her own feet several times, or so it sounded, from the frequent wails drifting up into his room.
Not ten seconds later, an exhausted house-elf almost fell into Draco's room.
"Y-yes sir." She wheezed, gasping for air and holding on to the wall for support.
"I won't be requiring dinner tonight. I'm going out."
"B-but," Adora's eyes widened in dismay, "You know you're not allowed to leave the Manor without your father's permission."
"So don't tell him." Draco sneered. "That's an order." His expression softened slightly. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, and it won't hurt you either, if you know what I mean..." He stared with intent into her round, frightened eyes, remembering the last time he had got his poor house- elf into trouble, and cringing slightly at the memory of finding her sitting in front of the dying fire each night for a week, sobbing into a dirty rag and refusing to look at him unless forced.
"I-I is not understanding you, sir."
Draco rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and took a deep breath, preparing to explain again. "I have to go and see somebody tonight. A girl." He looked expectantly at Adora, whose small mind was quite obviously working quite hard from the looks of utmost concentration on her ugly little face. Realisation suddenly dawned on the daft creature, and a sly smile began to form.
"Ah, I is understanding now... All right Master Draco, I shall not tell your father about you going out. In fact," the small smile stretched into a grin, which made her appear rather ghoulish, "I can pretend that you was never even telling me." She looked to Draco for approval.
Entertained by her sudden burst of enthusiasm, Draco laughed and nodded. "You are dismissed."
Adora bowed, and turned to leave the room.
"Oh, and Adora," Draco quickly added. Adora spun around to face him. He smiled, "have a pleasant evening."
Adora was beside herself with excitement at being addressed as an equal, and rushed from the room, tripping over her feet again.
Draco grinned to himself. Some things would never change. Everybody knew that there were some things Malfoys just wouldn't do unless the end result directly benefited them. And Draco knew that Hermione had a real soft-spot for house-elves.
Stepping away from the mirror, Draco pictured his destination and prepared to apparate.
With six hours to burn before the parental units, as Lisa had called them, returned, and a mode of transportation with estimated travel time of about one second each way, that left him and Hermione with a LOT of kissing time...
**THE END**
In his immense relief to be home, the tension in his stomach began to slip away. He grinned nervously to himself, and ran his hand through his hair.
BANG!
The door flew open, and in swept Lucius Malfoy, his face as cold and expressionless as usual.
The smile on Draco's face disappeared almost instantly, and the knots which had just been beginning to loosen in his stomach immediately tightened again.
"F-father."
"Good evening, Draco," his father's drawled, still showing no emotion. "You certainly took your time getting home."
Draco hesitated for a moment, not sure quite how to respond.
"I, uh... You see, I..." Draco stammered, desperately trying to think of something to say, and at the same time, waiting nervously for his father's short fuse to blow, and for his future to be scarred by some sort of hideously traumatising punishment.
Nothing.
Lucius Malfoy continued to stare at his son for a moment, before raising his hand to his mouth, clearing his throat, and turning towards the door.
"Somebody to see you."
Draco's eyebrows shot up so high they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline as Noah Baron-Williams walked into the room.
What was HE doing here? As if regaling his father with stories of his apparating catastrophe wouldn't be fun enough, he now had to explain his failure to the man who had been so sure that he would succeed.
Draco broke out in a cold sweat, and directed his glance ashamedly at his feet.
"Master Malfoy," as Noah spoke, Draco slowly looked up to meet his eyes. "Welcome back to the wizarding world." Noah reached into a small satchel he was carrying, and pulled out a small scroll of parchment, fastened with the Ministry of Magic's recognisable red wax seal. He presented it to Draco.
A wave of confusion washed over Draco. He had already received his notice of failure, so what was this? Surely it wasn't necessary to receive a second confirmation of his idiocy. And in front of his father, of all people? Draco cringed, and fingered the parchment warily - could it be a Howler in disguise? He shuddered at the thought, his imagination working overtime trying to conjure up any kind of explanation for the piece of parchment in his hand.
"Well don't just stand there like a fool, Draco." Lucius Malfoy said coldly. "Open it." He turned to Noah Baron-Williams, who nodded towards Draco.
His hands shaking, Draco broke the seal on the parchment and began to unroll it. As he opened it, rows of letters began to arrange themselves in front of his eyes.
"Read it aloud." Noah instructed.
Draco's eyes widened in horror, yet he obeyed.
"For the attention of Draco Malfoy," he read, his eyes widening more and more as he read further down the page.
"This is to certify that you have reached the required standard necessary to pass your official Apparating Test." Draco stopped reading, and shook his head. He re-read the previous few lines, and looked up. "But this can't be right. I-I thought that..."
"Carry on." Noah was grinning.
Draco uneasily smiled back, still avoiding his father's cold glare. He continued to read.
"You have successfully completed stage 2(i) of the Apparating Test, whereby you were deliberately sent to a popular Muggle zone and expected to find your way home without the aid of magic. It is necessary to be able to act rationally in the face of an emergency situation without jeopardising the secrecy of the wizarding world.
"Congratulations! You are now entitled to apparate to any area you desire. This is a magnificent privilege - use it well."
Draco grinned as he stopped reading aloud, and skimmed the last few paragraphs. Along with his ability to now pop, quite literally, in and out as he pleased, he was also entitled to free treatment at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries if he managed to splinch himself, or receive any other such 'damage' as a result of apparation.
"But Noah," Draco began, speaking slowly, although his brain felt as though it was working at a hundred miles an hour, "I don't understand... What about Next Street? How did I..."
Noah laughed.
"Ah yes, a clever charm that one." Noah stared at the ceiling wistfully. "Invented and patented by Brutus Abbott in the seventeenth century." As Draco continued to look baffled, Noah elaborated. "A simple re-directional charm. It's been used for years." He laughed. "It's always been one of my favourite ones; sending young witches and wizards in the direction of Oxford and landing them on Oxford Street. It's almost a shame we examiners can't see you once you've disapparated. I can't even imagine the hilarity in watching panic set in when you think you've failed..."
"Yeah, bloody hysterical." Draco muttered under his breath.
"But you've passed, and that's the important thing." Noah cheerfully added. "No need for Floo powder anymore. I find it a rather dusty way to travel, always feel a bit grubby afterwards. Speaking of grubby," Noah lent towards Draco and whispered in his ear, "you have ash in your hair."
Draco half-smiled. "Thanks for that."
"No problem." He winked. "I never really liked the Leaky Cauldron's terminal, always preferred the one in the basement at Selfridges." He raised his eyebrow at Draco, who nearly choked the breath of air he had just inhaled.
"Anyway, my work here is done." His eyes twinkled as he smiled at Draco. "Many congratulations." He turned and bowed to Lucius, who had barely moved since entering the room. "And good day to you, Mister Malfoy."
Lucius nodded frigidly in return.
Noah disapparated with a pop.
Lucius turned to Draco. "I'm still waiting to hear your explanation of why it took you so long to get home."
Draco froze. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore his father's grey eyes boring into his own. He decided it would probably not be the best idea to tell his father that he had spent the whole day with a girl of muggle parentage, and he KNEW that his father would not want to hear the rest of the story.
When his son didn't answer, Lucius rolled his eyes. "Get out of my sight." As Draco turned to leave the room, his father continued speaking. "By the way, your mother and I are going out now." Draco turned back to face him. "We've been invited to dinner with Cornelius Fudge and his wife." He shook his head, as if the idea of dinner with the Minister of Magic could be seen as nothing but a recipe for monotony.
Draco's tall, blonde mother waltzed into the room clothed in her expensive burgundy dress robes. She smiled faintly at her son as she took her husband's arm. "We will be back at midnight."
With that, the two of them disapparated.
Draco scratched behind his ear, wondering what to do with himself until midnight. He took off his jacket and smirked to himself.
POP!
It was a pleasant thing not to have to walk up the steep flights of stairs to his room.
Draco hung up his jacket, and walked over to where the mirror hung. Noah was right, he did have ash in his hair. He dusted it out, and stretched his arms out to full length above his head. He yawned.
It had been a pretty exhausting day.
He glanced out of his bedroom door at the levitating grandfather clock on the landing. He was free to apparate as he so desired, and had all the time in the world...
Draco grinned to himself as an idea came to him. He reached across to where his jacket hung, and put it back on. Standing in front of the mirror, he reached over to a nearby shelf and took hold of a tube of 'Magical Vanity Gel'. Squeezing some into his hands, he massaged in into his scalp.
"Keratin-morpheus!" He commanded. The magical gel began to style his hair for him.
Satisfied with the final result, Draco flashed a dazzling, yet rather arrogant, grin at his reflection. His sharply defined spikey hair definitely had a desirable affect on him, anybody could see that. He only hoped that Hermione was as impressed with the real him as he was with his own reflection. He laughed at his own conceit, and wiggled his eyebrow at his mirror-self.
"Adora!" Draco yelled, still facing the mirror. He heard his house elf racing up the stairs, tripping over her own feet several times, or so it sounded, from the frequent wails drifting up into his room.
Not ten seconds later, an exhausted house-elf almost fell into Draco's room.
"Y-yes sir." She wheezed, gasping for air and holding on to the wall for support.
"I won't be requiring dinner tonight. I'm going out."
"B-but," Adora's eyes widened in dismay, "You know you're not allowed to leave the Manor without your father's permission."
"So don't tell him." Draco sneered. "That's an order." His expression softened slightly. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, and it won't hurt you either, if you know what I mean..." He stared with intent into her round, frightened eyes, remembering the last time he had got his poor house- elf into trouble, and cringing slightly at the memory of finding her sitting in front of the dying fire each night for a week, sobbing into a dirty rag and refusing to look at him unless forced.
"I-I is not understanding you, sir."
Draco rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and took a deep breath, preparing to explain again. "I have to go and see somebody tonight. A girl." He looked expectantly at Adora, whose small mind was quite obviously working quite hard from the looks of utmost concentration on her ugly little face. Realisation suddenly dawned on the daft creature, and a sly smile began to form.
"Ah, I is understanding now... All right Master Draco, I shall not tell your father about you going out. In fact," the small smile stretched into a grin, which made her appear rather ghoulish, "I can pretend that you was never even telling me." She looked to Draco for approval.
Entertained by her sudden burst of enthusiasm, Draco laughed and nodded. "You are dismissed."
Adora bowed, and turned to leave the room.
"Oh, and Adora," Draco quickly added. Adora spun around to face him. He smiled, "have a pleasant evening."
Adora was beside herself with excitement at being addressed as an equal, and rushed from the room, tripping over her feet again.
Draco grinned to himself. Some things would never change. Everybody knew that there were some things Malfoys just wouldn't do unless the end result directly benefited them. And Draco knew that Hermione had a real soft-spot for house-elves.
Stepping away from the mirror, Draco pictured his destination and prepared to apparate.
With six hours to burn before the parental units, as Lisa had called them, returned, and a mode of transportation with estimated travel time of about one second each way, that left him and Hermione with a LOT of kissing time...
**THE END**