The days slipped by them like the slow streaming of sand through the
pinched middle of an hourglass. Time hardly ever passed quickly in the
gloom of Malfoy Manor. It seemed impossible, as though the air around them
was so thick with the bitter hum of dark magic that time had to force
itself through.
Rowan had spent these days sat on a carved high-back chair at the end of a long oak table. The setting for this scene was the room adjacent to Lucius' study, it was high ceilinged and seemed to be shaped by the arching beams above, much like the wooden boat like ceilings of olden day churches. Of course it was cold but that did not matter, Rowan needed everything she could to stop herself from falling into a trance of dullness.
You see Lucius had decided to find out her plans and not just ones relevant to him. He had questioned her for hours on end, droning on and on and on without stop. He was obsessed. He asked questions about Hogwarts, about how she was getting on with her work and how she got on in Slytherin.
He also went on about Potter, this wasn't surprising. The boy had made it personal with the loss of Dobby. Lucius reassured Rowan that the elf was not important, it was the boy's defiance that vexed him.
"So you don't believe it then?" She had asked him, as he looked out of the window. He turned to her with an eyebrow raised.
"Believe what?"
Rowan sipped from the crystal goblet, containing some form of red wine. "That Potter's the one to rival him."
Lucius let out a long, low, chuckle. He released the red velvet curtain from his elongated fingers. "Potter?" The derisive laugh continued. "A rival? Now, my dear," He paced towards her chair, his footsteps echoing hauntingly, after reaching his desired place, he slipped his hands onto her shoulders. "If you were looking for a rival to Voldemort, I would urge you to look a little deeper than Potter."
Rowan did not answer, she was concentrating more on the closeness of his breath on the bare skin of her neck. He had given her robes while her uniform was cleaned and pressed. The hot air was laced with alcohol and tobacco, Lucius did not hold back within the privacy of his own grounds.
"What do you mean?" She asked breathlessly. His hands squeezed.
"That it takes more than a pair of glasses and a scar to be a rival." He smiled smugly and sat down next to Rowan, releasing his grip on her.
She gave him a twisted smile back, a thought nagging. "But he isn't just that is he? I mean he's escaped Voldemort since he was one, he's the one he keeps on getting away. You were there last summer, you saw him duel."
"Well you didn't and neither did Anthony." He practically spat the name, his speech already slurred in his half stupor.
"I already told you, Malfoy." She returned his sourness pushing her head closer in to his. "It would have jeopardised my work."
"Ah, yes I remember but you wouldn't tell me why." She began to speak but was silenced by his hand, now using his wand to pour more wine into their goblets.
"Didn't Potter find us out?" Lucius frowned. "Well you were there, Malfoy."
"He might have done."
"Jesus, Malfoy, the only reason I can work on Potter is because he is too busy worrying about your son and the fact his Father is a Death Eater."
"And I'm guessing, the fact you've been one for what sixteen years eludes him?"
She withdrew, a wry look playing on her face and took another gulp of liquid.
"Uhuh."
"Well why complain?"
"Well surely that's odd?"
"Odd?"
"That he isn't suspicious."
"Now why would Mr. Potter be suspicious of you?" He said sarcastically. Rowan's shoulders slumped. "You are not on the brink of capture. Stop worrying. Besides you are with me at present, relax."
"Exactly, I'm with you. What's that going to look like? I wish Voldemort would have thought his plan through before he decided to kidnap me."
Lucius ignored her last comment. "You told Potter you were with me?"
"Yes."
He lapsed into thoughtful silence, leaving Rowan to cast her gaze over her surroundings once more. It was night time, late evening maybe. Yet Rowan found it did not matter, she could never seem to settle in this place, it was too dark. As odd as that might sound, Rowan did not enjoy or appreciate the deliberate displays of dark magic. Of course she had grown up with it, both her Mother and Father's families were well known for the dark qualities and no merger of the two would be any different. Her Father had seen to that. But it had been her way of life each dark curse blended into lawful ones easily. Though in Britain there was always some kind of ritual beforehand. Continentals just got on with it, accepting it and even welcoming it. Albania was a haven for anyone who wanted to practice the Dark Arts because everyone there did, Voldemort supporter or not.
Well that was not strictly true, she thought. No, not all of Europe was Dark Arts obsessed, in fact it had quite a bad reputation. Durmstrang was a bit of a pariah located in some Eastern European country, even Rowan was not sure where. Eastern Europe had been tirelessly working to evade their reputation as a dark place, upping their own Ministries' regulations and Auror to wizard ratios. It had worked, to some extent, all true-blooded practitioners had gone only tourists who wanted t-shirts remained. It was sad but avoided the whole thing from becoming cliched.
These days, supporters integrated into everyday society, they weren't all like the Malfoys which not many people appreciated. Thankfully Potter did not so those like Rowan could work on him without drawing too much attention.
"You'll need more bruises, but not on your face."
"What?" She had been hauled from her thoughts by Lucius' enlightened tone.
"I have an idea, but it depends on how Potter takes it."
"What?" She repeated, lost.
"You tell him the truth, " He saw the appalled look on the girl's face. "Well obviously leave out the Dark Lord side but tell him the rest of it. You've already started to in your letter, just continue."
She could see what he was getting at.
Lucius continued to elaborate on his proposed idea but something soon became apparent to Rowan.
"We shall have to tell Draco."
Lucius looked right at her, his gunmetal eyes boring into hers. She could see that he was in doubt about telling his future heir.
"Very well." He said a little stiffly.
"You never know Lucius, Draco might want to sign up sooner than you think."
************
The Gryffindor Common Room was unusually quiet but Ron and Hermione had taken full advantage of the opportunity and got the most sort after seats by the warming fire. Harry, however, had been a little less enthusiastic. It had been three days since he had heard from Rowan and that was a long time if you were stuck with Lucius Malfoy.
Of course Harry had said nothing to Hermione or Dumbledore. How could he but then again how could he not? He was finding with holding back this information difficult especially as Rowan was involved. But he did not want her dead.
Her letter went round and round his head and he often found himself back in his dormitory rereading it. One point that nagged was her comments on her house. She was in Slytherin, the house he had wished not to be in years before. It had not seemed so important before yet somehow the nag would not go away.
"Well he's in Hufflepuff; it's no wonder he couldn't stop." Ron jerked Harry back to reality. He looked at the boy wide-eyed, bewilderment creeping up on him.
"What?"
Hermione shook her head looking slightly annoyed at Harry's lack of interest. "My charms partner Stephen Moth, he hasn't stopped working on it."
"It?" Harry asked blankly.
"Our project on the banning of sound-blocker Charms. He's been in the library the whole time."
"And you're no stranger to that." He answered dryly. She rolled her eyes at him. Avoiding her he looked at Ron. "And what's being in Hufflepuff got to do with it?"
"Well they are the "hard workers" aren't they?" Harry raised his eyebrows a little surprised. "You know," Ron continued. "It's the house characteristics."
"Oh." Harry replied, cottoning on. "Like the Sorting Hat songs?"
Hermione replied definitely. "Yes. Brave Gryffindor, intellectual Ravenclaws, hard working Hufflepuffs ..."
"And scummy back stabbing Slytherins." Ron finished, making Hermione give him a scathing look too.
Harry sat up in his armchair, taking interest. "You don't believe that? It's a bit stereotypical, surely?"
"Oh no." Hermione cut in. "The Sorting Hat is an incredibly good judge of character."
"But surely not all Hufflepuffs are hard working or Slytherins back stabbing?"
"What?" Ron spluttered incredulously. "Not all Slytherins back stabbing? What are you? Blind?"
"He doesn't mean it like that." Hermione reassured him. "Of course there are variations otherwise there would only be four types of people in the country and it would be boring but on the whole, they share a lot."
"But, well, surely, surely some people are different. You said Gryffindors are brave? Well surely we're only brave because we have to be. You couldn't say that no one else in the school is brave." Harry ignored Ron's snorts of indignancy and concentrated on Hermione.
"Well that is true as well."
"So you could not say that all Hufflepuffs are the same. He may only be hard working because he has to be to keep up with you. People are pushed into doing things like being brave or cunning."
"But the Sorting Hat does not count what you are forced into. You would not be put into a house if you did not have its underlying qualities, it just does not happen. But if you were forced into being brave or cunning and you were not usually then you would only be put into the house that you would suit you."
Ron let out a fake snore. "Why are you so bothered, Harry?"
"I'm not." He said quickly. "I just think it's bad that because you're in a certain house you have to act a certain way."
Ron shook his head and Hermione looked at him a little longer than normal. Harry squirmed a little under her gaze. Sensing his discomfort she dropped her eyes.
**********
The note was simple. It had arrived that night with one of the Malfoy's House Elves. This had amused Draco but he did wonder what his Father wanted.
// Draco, I need you to meet me tonight at 11 o'clock in the Wishing Wand. Use you apparition in the place where I said, do not go straight into the inn but Apparate outside. It is essential that you come Draco. Do not be late. //
Eleven? Then he only had twenty minutes. He swiftly changed out of his Hogwarts robes and into something a little more demure. Blacks would do nicely, he proceeded to redo his hair, slicking it back with a little potion. He needed to look his best for Father, otherwise he would undoubtedly get some awful lecture.
So he set out to that particular spot in the Hogwarts grounds where a uncomplicated Dark charm could burn away any protective charms surrounding the School.
********
"You are sure?" The man asked hoarsely.
"Yes, my lord." It replied in its hissing undertone.
"Into the house?" He asked again, his words half disguised by a voice well used to tobacco.
"Into your own room, my lord. Into a panel in the east wall, he removed something, I could not see what, my lord." The Parseltongue chilled the air it met with.
"The east wall?" The man sat back and thought. "Laesym, was he alone?"
"In the house, my lord but there was another in his carriage." The snake uncoiled and recoiled into a more relaxed formation.
"His carriage? Now why would he have a carriage, Laesym? That is interesting. Have you any idea who was in it?"
"A female and there was an owl, a white one, my lord."
"Did you see her?" He asked quickly, silencing his cough.
"No."
"Very well. Thank-you Laesym, you serve your master well."
The snake bowed his head slightly. "You wish me to tell the others, my lord?"
"Ah, yes, do that and tell them to come to me with their news. Yes, but they must make sure they realise I will be on the move. It seems as though England has been missing Anthony Lennox for too long."
********
The Wishing Wand served as Malfoy Manor's nearest and most convenient wizarding inn. Nearest meant at least fifty miles away from the grounds but that was an advantage as any Muggles that happened to spot them would have no clue as to who they were looking at.
Its clientele did vary from the vaguely wonderful wizards of the Home Counties to the more grotesque variety who would rarely allow themselves to be seen in natural daylight. Unlike the taverns of Diagon and Knockturn Alley, the Wishing Wand was not protected by anti Muggle charms. This meant that ordinary members of the British public were inclined to wander it at unpredictable moments. Therefore use of magic was very discreet, if there was any used at all.
Lucius had chosen a corner table and had ordered two black espressos from Jackson, the bartender. He thought they would need them, one to regain a little sobriety after their wine consumption and two, he thought it added another face of sophistication. Rowan was already seated and Lucius insisted on bringing the drinks over himself, he did not need Jackson bothering him.
After taking his seat Lucius flipped out his solid pocket watch. "He has five minutes." Rowan said nothing but shifted on the uncomfortable wooden bench. The inn was quiet, only a few leech like creatures hung by the bar and some witches in the opposite corner were present. She could see why Lucius had chosen it.
She was a little apprehensive about telling the boy, he might be tempted to tell others. Lucius would certainly put a stop to any thoughts of that, and if Draco did wish to become a Death Eater then silence would have to become his best friend.
The door opened and a bitter chill of cold air whipped around their ankles, the cool pointed frame of the youngest Malfoy stood in the doorway, the wind making his black cloaks dance behind him. Draco scanned the inn with his gray eyes, not giving away his anxiousness. His eyes caught sight of an icy blond profile, his Father was sitting in a corner and next to him was Rowan. His stomach dropped a notch.
His eyes met with hers but she dropped them almost immediately. He drew up another oak chair and muttered a polite greeting to his Father.
"Now, Draco, we are here for a reason." He looked sternly at his son. "It is too compromising for us to speak of it out loud, at least with me present, therefore I shall leave you soon. Rowan will explain everything to you. What she says is invaluable. I sincerely hope you will take on what she says, Draco."
Rowan, who had kept her head down, shot Draco a quick calculating look. He was confused, a little cocky maybe but he was not as ready as she would have liked.
"Right." Lucius drained the small cup in one, pausing to relish its flavour. He did not seem to notice the tension between the two students. Still he soon clapped his hand solidly on Draco's shoulder before doing the top button of his tailored travelling coat up. With a swish and sight of red satin lining the Malfoy had left the public house.
Almost immediately Draco slumped in his chair, drew out a battered packet of menthol cigarettes, flicked the packet open and started to pull on one of the white tips but was stopped in his tracks. Rowan was looking at him silently, her eyes were burning into him, their fierce cold colour lashing at his pale skin.
"Don't stop on my account." She said seductively. The silver dragon turned his head to face hers, slipping the rolled tube out of the packet with an accustomed ease. With the cigarette in his mouth, he lit it with a quick "incendio".
"You want to be careful, there are Muggles around." She shot a quick look around the inn. Draco ran his hand through his hair, undoing his earlier work.
"Fuck them, I need this." He inhaled deeply, allowing the scent to reach every fraction of his brain. The nicotine rush woke him more than his Father's words ever could. "So what's this all about?" He asked impatiently.
Rowan thought it best to show him. She pulled up the fabric swathing her left arm, revealing the Dark Mark burning blackly upon it.
"Ah." Draco whispered looking intently at the scar with his cigarette forgotten. "You're a Death Eater."
Rowan quickly pulled her sleave back down, checking once more that nobody around them was watching. Draco still looked at the mark, his eyes seemingly boring through the fabric. His throat was tight, he swallowed, coughed slightly and looked up at her.
"That's what you've been doing. You've just been initiated." He said in a shocked voice laced with what sounded like admiration and awe. The briefest of smiles flickered on his face.
Rowan shifted uncomfortably, moving the stray piece of dark hair from her face, the strand that would just not stay in place. "No." She said quietly. "I've been a Death Eater for more than fifteen years, Draco."
Now confusion spread its way over her companion's features. "I.." He started, clearly unsure of how to react. Rowan gave a weary smile, one that revealed the uneasy twitch in the pit of her stomach. "Calm down." She said softly. "It isn't that bad."
"Oh no, " Draco began. "It isn't bad at all. It's good, very good. It, well, it's a bit of a surprise." He took another drag of his minty roll, tapping the long tube of formed ash into a red plastic ashtray. "You'd better tell me then, whatever this is about and tell it from the beginning."
Rowan took a sip of the hot liquid and felt it awaken her refined sense of awareness. Now she would be able to tell the boy what he needed to be satisfied as well as keeping her other eye open for any hidden dangers. She would need to stay aware, for simply showing Draco her Mark meant incriminating herself but as she had reasoned, she would need his help as well as his Father's to get to Potter.
"I was born in Albania, not Britain. I grew up there with my Mother's family. My Father is English but felt the traditions there would suit me better."
"Traditions?" Draco interrupted. Rowan smiled to herself.
"The Dark Arts are far more widely used. I was not confined to a Manor. Anyway, my parents moved before Voldemort fell, Father was still very close to him. As you know Potter got in the way of things, he was a setback, a thorn in my Master's side, but soon he shall be plucked out." Rowan became distracted by her own thoughts leaving Draco to sit enthralled by her words. She never bad mouthed Potter at Hogwarts, something that vexed him, and to hear her speak of her master was unsettling.
"Anyway, after Potter, Voldemort fled to where we were, forests in Albania. My Lord had seen me before, in meetings with my Father, but I had not yet joined with them. I was around two by now."
"Two? But that means you are."
"A year older than you. So there you are, I'm working for Voldemort."
"Woah, hang on a minute, Row. You've gone from being a harmless supporter to working for him." Rowan signaled that he needed to tap his cigarette again, which he did if sulkily.
"Draco, what I tell you is important." He rolled his eyes.
"Father's already said."
"Forget Lucius, this is my life on the line. If you breathe a word of my story to anyone Malfoy, then I'm dead. And a certain curse will be working its magic on you too." She checked to see that he was suitably pale before continuing. "Last year, Crouch went in, Voldemort found him to be an invaluable source of information. Except the bugger went and got himself kissed, useless. My master, although he had not counted on this, knew that a teacher inside Hogwarts was one thing but a student was quite different. Word was sent to me that I would be there this year and that my Father and I should not attend the rebirthing last summer. Yet again, the little runt slipped through our hands, but a backup plan was made. I was told not only to collect information but to capture the one and only Potter too."
Draco could not believe what she had just said. "No." He whispered, shaking his head. "Not you, not you getting Potter. No, that's not true."
"Oh I assure you it is Draco. Nothing has been more real, as you shall find out. You are going to help me trap him, my darling."
*****
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since my last update, silly really as it was all ready to load up but I couldn't get to a PC. Well I have German and Latin exams on Monday and Tuesday so AGGHHHH slightly. :/ !! Anyway I hope you review and enjoy! HUGS
Cancerious: Hmmm well you shall have to see what happens to Mr. Potter (I seem to have got into the habit of calling him that!). As for Rowan, I suspect her reaction will be quite different to how most would expect and as for her getting together with Draco, well I think he will have to prove himself worthy..
Serenia-dreamer of the woods: Thank-you! There are a few sappy stories out there but I love 'em just as much as I do the gritty ones! Hehe. I apologise again for not updating, it's all a bit hectic right now. Hope you enjoy!
Jeanne: Yep I did know the Lucy/Lucius thing. I've always been a little unsure of my name but am gradually coming round to it. Well the threads have expanded again and I am actually changing some plot lines therefore I am sorry to say this fic will not be over quite yet! I am seeing some Lucius/Anthony conflict approaching so wands at the ready.
Rowan had spent these days sat on a carved high-back chair at the end of a long oak table. The setting for this scene was the room adjacent to Lucius' study, it was high ceilinged and seemed to be shaped by the arching beams above, much like the wooden boat like ceilings of olden day churches. Of course it was cold but that did not matter, Rowan needed everything she could to stop herself from falling into a trance of dullness.
You see Lucius had decided to find out her plans and not just ones relevant to him. He had questioned her for hours on end, droning on and on and on without stop. He was obsessed. He asked questions about Hogwarts, about how she was getting on with her work and how she got on in Slytherin.
He also went on about Potter, this wasn't surprising. The boy had made it personal with the loss of Dobby. Lucius reassured Rowan that the elf was not important, it was the boy's defiance that vexed him.
"So you don't believe it then?" She had asked him, as he looked out of the window. He turned to her with an eyebrow raised.
"Believe what?"
Rowan sipped from the crystal goblet, containing some form of red wine. "That Potter's the one to rival him."
Lucius let out a long, low, chuckle. He released the red velvet curtain from his elongated fingers. "Potter?" The derisive laugh continued. "A rival? Now, my dear," He paced towards her chair, his footsteps echoing hauntingly, after reaching his desired place, he slipped his hands onto her shoulders. "If you were looking for a rival to Voldemort, I would urge you to look a little deeper than Potter."
Rowan did not answer, she was concentrating more on the closeness of his breath on the bare skin of her neck. He had given her robes while her uniform was cleaned and pressed. The hot air was laced with alcohol and tobacco, Lucius did not hold back within the privacy of his own grounds.
"What do you mean?" She asked breathlessly. His hands squeezed.
"That it takes more than a pair of glasses and a scar to be a rival." He smiled smugly and sat down next to Rowan, releasing his grip on her.
She gave him a twisted smile back, a thought nagging. "But he isn't just that is he? I mean he's escaped Voldemort since he was one, he's the one he keeps on getting away. You were there last summer, you saw him duel."
"Well you didn't and neither did Anthony." He practically spat the name, his speech already slurred in his half stupor.
"I already told you, Malfoy." She returned his sourness pushing her head closer in to his. "It would have jeopardised my work."
"Ah, yes I remember but you wouldn't tell me why." She began to speak but was silenced by his hand, now using his wand to pour more wine into their goblets.
"Didn't Potter find us out?" Lucius frowned. "Well you were there, Malfoy."
"He might have done."
"Jesus, Malfoy, the only reason I can work on Potter is because he is too busy worrying about your son and the fact his Father is a Death Eater."
"And I'm guessing, the fact you've been one for what sixteen years eludes him?"
She withdrew, a wry look playing on her face and took another gulp of liquid.
"Uhuh."
"Well why complain?"
"Well surely that's odd?"
"Odd?"
"That he isn't suspicious."
"Now why would Mr. Potter be suspicious of you?" He said sarcastically. Rowan's shoulders slumped. "You are not on the brink of capture. Stop worrying. Besides you are with me at present, relax."
"Exactly, I'm with you. What's that going to look like? I wish Voldemort would have thought his plan through before he decided to kidnap me."
Lucius ignored her last comment. "You told Potter you were with me?"
"Yes."
He lapsed into thoughtful silence, leaving Rowan to cast her gaze over her surroundings once more. It was night time, late evening maybe. Yet Rowan found it did not matter, she could never seem to settle in this place, it was too dark. As odd as that might sound, Rowan did not enjoy or appreciate the deliberate displays of dark magic. Of course she had grown up with it, both her Mother and Father's families were well known for the dark qualities and no merger of the two would be any different. Her Father had seen to that. But it had been her way of life each dark curse blended into lawful ones easily. Though in Britain there was always some kind of ritual beforehand. Continentals just got on with it, accepting it and even welcoming it. Albania was a haven for anyone who wanted to practice the Dark Arts because everyone there did, Voldemort supporter or not.
Well that was not strictly true, she thought. No, not all of Europe was Dark Arts obsessed, in fact it had quite a bad reputation. Durmstrang was a bit of a pariah located in some Eastern European country, even Rowan was not sure where. Eastern Europe had been tirelessly working to evade their reputation as a dark place, upping their own Ministries' regulations and Auror to wizard ratios. It had worked, to some extent, all true-blooded practitioners had gone only tourists who wanted t-shirts remained. It was sad but avoided the whole thing from becoming cliched.
These days, supporters integrated into everyday society, they weren't all like the Malfoys which not many people appreciated. Thankfully Potter did not so those like Rowan could work on him without drawing too much attention.
"You'll need more bruises, but not on your face."
"What?" She had been hauled from her thoughts by Lucius' enlightened tone.
"I have an idea, but it depends on how Potter takes it."
"What?" She repeated, lost.
"You tell him the truth, " He saw the appalled look on the girl's face. "Well obviously leave out the Dark Lord side but tell him the rest of it. You've already started to in your letter, just continue."
She could see what he was getting at.
Lucius continued to elaborate on his proposed idea but something soon became apparent to Rowan.
"We shall have to tell Draco."
Lucius looked right at her, his gunmetal eyes boring into hers. She could see that he was in doubt about telling his future heir.
"Very well." He said a little stiffly.
"You never know Lucius, Draco might want to sign up sooner than you think."
************
The Gryffindor Common Room was unusually quiet but Ron and Hermione had taken full advantage of the opportunity and got the most sort after seats by the warming fire. Harry, however, had been a little less enthusiastic. It had been three days since he had heard from Rowan and that was a long time if you were stuck with Lucius Malfoy.
Of course Harry had said nothing to Hermione or Dumbledore. How could he but then again how could he not? He was finding with holding back this information difficult especially as Rowan was involved. But he did not want her dead.
Her letter went round and round his head and he often found himself back in his dormitory rereading it. One point that nagged was her comments on her house. She was in Slytherin, the house he had wished not to be in years before. It had not seemed so important before yet somehow the nag would not go away.
"Well he's in Hufflepuff; it's no wonder he couldn't stop." Ron jerked Harry back to reality. He looked at the boy wide-eyed, bewilderment creeping up on him.
"What?"
Hermione shook her head looking slightly annoyed at Harry's lack of interest. "My charms partner Stephen Moth, he hasn't stopped working on it."
"It?" Harry asked blankly.
"Our project on the banning of sound-blocker Charms. He's been in the library the whole time."
"And you're no stranger to that." He answered dryly. She rolled her eyes at him. Avoiding her he looked at Ron. "And what's being in Hufflepuff got to do with it?"
"Well they are the "hard workers" aren't they?" Harry raised his eyebrows a little surprised. "You know," Ron continued. "It's the house characteristics."
"Oh." Harry replied, cottoning on. "Like the Sorting Hat songs?"
Hermione replied definitely. "Yes. Brave Gryffindor, intellectual Ravenclaws, hard working Hufflepuffs ..."
"And scummy back stabbing Slytherins." Ron finished, making Hermione give him a scathing look too.
Harry sat up in his armchair, taking interest. "You don't believe that? It's a bit stereotypical, surely?"
"Oh no." Hermione cut in. "The Sorting Hat is an incredibly good judge of character."
"But surely not all Hufflepuffs are hard working or Slytherins back stabbing?"
"What?" Ron spluttered incredulously. "Not all Slytherins back stabbing? What are you? Blind?"
"He doesn't mean it like that." Hermione reassured him. "Of course there are variations otherwise there would only be four types of people in the country and it would be boring but on the whole, they share a lot."
"But, well, surely, surely some people are different. You said Gryffindors are brave? Well surely we're only brave because we have to be. You couldn't say that no one else in the school is brave." Harry ignored Ron's snorts of indignancy and concentrated on Hermione.
"Well that is true as well."
"So you could not say that all Hufflepuffs are the same. He may only be hard working because he has to be to keep up with you. People are pushed into doing things like being brave or cunning."
"But the Sorting Hat does not count what you are forced into. You would not be put into a house if you did not have its underlying qualities, it just does not happen. But if you were forced into being brave or cunning and you were not usually then you would only be put into the house that you would suit you."
Ron let out a fake snore. "Why are you so bothered, Harry?"
"I'm not." He said quickly. "I just think it's bad that because you're in a certain house you have to act a certain way."
Ron shook his head and Hermione looked at him a little longer than normal. Harry squirmed a little under her gaze. Sensing his discomfort she dropped her eyes.
**********
The note was simple. It had arrived that night with one of the Malfoy's House Elves. This had amused Draco but he did wonder what his Father wanted.
// Draco, I need you to meet me tonight at 11 o'clock in the Wishing Wand. Use you apparition in the place where I said, do not go straight into the inn but Apparate outside. It is essential that you come Draco. Do not be late. //
Eleven? Then he only had twenty minutes. He swiftly changed out of his Hogwarts robes and into something a little more demure. Blacks would do nicely, he proceeded to redo his hair, slicking it back with a little potion. He needed to look his best for Father, otherwise he would undoubtedly get some awful lecture.
So he set out to that particular spot in the Hogwarts grounds where a uncomplicated Dark charm could burn away any protective charms surrounding the School.
********
"You are sure?" The man asked hoarsely.
"Yes, my lord." It replied in its hissing undertone.
"Into the house?" He asked again, his words half disguised by a voice well used to tobacco.
"Into your own room, my lord. Into a panel in the east wall, he removed something, I could not see what, my lord." The Parseltongue chilled the air it met with.
"The east wall?" The man sat back and thought. "Laesym, was he alone?"
"In the house, my lord but there was another in his carriage." The snake uncoiled and recoiled into a more relaxed formation.
"His carriage? Now why would he have a carriage, Laesym? That is interesting. Have you any idea who was in it?"
"A female and there was an owl, a white one, my lord."
"Did you see her?" He asked quickly, silencing his cough.
"No."
"Very well. Thank-you Laesym, you serve your master well."
The snake bowed his head slightly. "You wish me to tell the others, my lord?"
"Ah, yes, do that and tell them to come to me with their news. Yes, but they must make sure they realise I will be on the move. It seems as though England has been missing Anthony Lennox for too long."
********
The Wishing Wand served as Malfoy Manor's nearest and most convenient wizarding inn. Nearest meant at least fifty miles away from the grounds but that was an advantage as any Muggles that happened to spot them would have no clue as to who they were looking at.
Its clientele did vary from the vaguely wonderful wizards of the Home Counties to the more grotesque variety who would rarely allow themselves to be seen in natural daylight. Unlike the taverns of Diagon and Knockturn Alley, the Wishing Wand was not protected by anti Muggle charms. This meant that ordinary members of the British public were inclined to wander it at unpredictable moments. Therefore use of magic was very discreet, if there was any used at all.
Lucius had chosen a corner table and had ordered two black espressos from Jackson, the bartender. He thought they would need them, one to regain a little sobriety after their wine consumption and two, he thought it added another face of sophistication. Rowan was already seated and Lucius insisted on bringing the drinks over himself, he did not need Jackson bothering him.
After taking his seat Lucius flipped out his solid pocket watch. "He has five minutes." Rowan said nothing but shifted on the uncomfortable wooden bench. The inn was quiet, only a few leech like creatures hung by the bar and some witches in the opposite corner were present. She could see why Lucius had chosen it.
She was a little apprehensive about telling the boy, he might be tempted to tell others. Lucius would certainly put a stop to any thoughts of that, and if Draco did wish to become a Death Eater then silence would have to become his best friend.
The door opened and a bitter chill of cold air whipped around their ankles, the cool pointed frame of the youngest Malfoy stood in the doorway, the wind making his black cloaks dance behind him. Draco scanned the inn with his gray eyes, not giving away his anxiousness. His eyes caught sight of an icy blond profile, his Father was sitting in a corner and next to him was Rowan. His stomach dropped a notch.
His eyes met with hers but she dropped them almost immediately. He drew up another oak chair and muttered a polite greeting to his Father.
"Now, Draco, we are here for a reason." He looked sternly at his son. "It is too compromising for us to speak of it out loud, at least with me present, therefore I shall leave you soon. Rowan will explain everything to you. What she says is invaluable. I sincerely hope you will take on what she says, Draco."
Rowan, who had kept her head down, shot Draco a quick calculating look. He was confused, a little cocky maybe but he was not as ready as she would have liked.
"Right." Lucius drained the small cup in one, pausing to relish its flavour. He did not seem to notice the tension between the two students. Still he soon clapped his hand solidly on Draco's shoulder before doing the top button of his tailored travelling coat up. With a swish and sight of red satin lining the Malfoy had left the public house.
Almost immediately Draco slumped in his chair, drew out a battered packet of menthol cigarettes, flicked the packet open and started to pull on one of the white tips but was stopped in his tracks. Rowan was looking at him silently, her eyes were burning into him, their fierce cold colour lashing at his pale skin.
"Don't stop on my account." She said seductively. The silver dragon turned his head to face hers, slipping the rolled tube out of the packet with an accustomed ease. With the cigarette in his mouth, he lit it with a quick "incendio".
"You want to be careful, there are Muggles around." She shot a quick look around the inn. Draco ran his hand through his hair, undoing his earlier work.
"Fuck them, I need this." He inhaled deeply, allowing the scent to reach every fraction of his brain. The nicotine rush woke him more than his Father's words ever could. "So what's this all about?" He asked impatiently.
Rowan thought it best to show him. She pulled up the fabric swathing her left arm, revealing the Dark Mark burning blackly upon it.
"Ah." Draco whispered looking intently at the scar with his cigarette forgotten. "You're a Death Eater."
Rowan quickly pulled her sleave back down, checking once more that nobody around them was watching. Draco still looked at the mark, his eyes seemingly boring through the fabric. His throat was tight, he swallowed, coughed slightly and looked up at her.
"That's what you've been doing. You've just been initiated." He said in a shocked voice laced with what sounded like admiration and awe. The briefest of smiles flickered on his face.
Rowan shifted uncomfortably, moving the stray piece of dark hair from her face, the strand that would just not stay in place. "No." She said quietly. "I've been a Death Eater for more than fifteen years, Draco."
Now confusion spread its way over her companion's features. "I.." He started, clearly unsure of how to react. Rowan gave a weary smile, one that revealed the uneasy twitch in the pit of her stomach. "Calm down." She said softly. "It isn't that bad."
"Oh no, " Draco began. "It isn't bad at all. It's good, very good. It, well, it's a bit of a surprise." He took another drag of his minty roll, tapping the long tube of formed ash into a red plastic ashtray. "You'd better tell me then, whatever this is about and tell it from the beginning."
Rowan took a sip of the hot liquid and felt it awaken her refined sense of awareness. Now she would be able to tell the boy what he needed to be satisfied as well as keeping her other eye open for any hidden dangers. She would need to stay aware, for simply showing Draco her Mark meant incriminating herself but as she had reasoned, she would need his help as well as his Father's to get to Potter.
"I was born in Albania, not Britain. I grew up there with my Mother's family. My Father is English but felt the traditions there would suit me better."
"Traditions?" Draco interrupted. Rowan smiled to herself.
"The Dark Arts are far more widely used. I was not confined to a Manor. Anyway, my parents moved before Voldemort fell, Father was still very close to him. As you know Potter got in the way of things, he was a setback, a thorn in my Master's side, but soon he shall be plucked out." Rowan became distracted by her own thoughts leaving Draco to sit enthralled by her words. She never bad mouthed Potter at Hogwarts, something that vexed him, and to hear her speak of her master was unsettling.
"Anyway, after Potter, Voldemort fled to where we were, forests in Albania. My Lord had seen me before, in meetings with my Father, but I had not yet joined with them. I was around two by now."
"Two? But that means you are."
"A year older than you. So there you are, I'm working for Voldemort."
"Woah, hang on a minute, Row. You've gone from being a harmless supporter to working for him." Rowan signaled that he needed to tap his cigarette again, which he did if sulkily.
"Draco, what I tell you is important." He rolled his eyes.
"Father's already said."
"Forget Lucius, this is my life on the line. If you breathe a word of my story to anyone Malfoy, then I'm dead. And a certain curse will be working its magic on you too." She checked to see that he was suitably pale before continuing. "Last year, Crouch went in, Voldemort found him to be an invaluable source of information. Except the bugger went and got himself kissed, useless. My master, although he had not counted on this, knew that a teacher inside Hogwarts was one thing but a student was quite different. Word was sent to me that I would be there this year and that my Father and I should not attend the rebirthing last summer. Yet again, the little runt slipped through our hands, but a backup plan was made. I was told not only to collect information but to capture the one and only Potter too."
Draco could not believe what she had just said. "No." He whispered, shaking his head. "Not you, not you getting Potter. No, that's not true."
"Oh I assure you it is Draco. Nothing has been more real, as you shall find out. You are going to help me trap him, my darling."
*****
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since my last update, silly really as it was all ready to load up but I couldn't get to a PC. Well I have German and Latin exams on Monday and Tuesday so AGGHHHH slightly. :/ !! Anyway I hope you review and enjoy! HUGS
Cancerious: Hmmm well you shall have to see what happens to Mr. Potter (I seem to have got into the habit of calling him that!). As for Rowan, I suspect her reaction will be quite different to how most would expect and as for her getting together with Draco, well I think he will have to prove himself worthy..
Serenia-dreamer of the woods: Thank-you! There are a few sappy stories out there but I love 'em just as much as I do the gritty ones! Hehe. I apologise again for not updating, it's all a bit hectic right now. Hope you enjoy!
Jeanne: Yep I did know the Lucy/Lucius thing. I've always been a little unsure of my name but am gradually coming round to it. Well the threads have expanded again and I am actually changing some plot lines therefore I am sorry to say this fic will not be over quite yet! I am seeing some Lucius/Anthony conflict approaching so wands at the ready.