Sorry for taking so long in updating, but Spring Break didn't go as I had planned and I had no time to write. Hopefully the next chapter will be quicker in coming. Thank you so much to those who reviewed. I love getting them! Enjoy!
The SecretChapter Six: Welcome to the Order
CRACK.
Draco Malfoy's head whirled to the side as the back of his father's hand connected to his cheek. The momentum was so powerful that the rest of his body followed, causing Draco to spin painfully into the wall then slump to the floor as his legs collapsed beneath him. Raising a shaking hand to his right cheek, he felt blood oozing from the cuts made from his father's rings. He could already feel his split lip starting to puff up, and his right eye was being forced closed little by little.
His usually perfect blonde hair was roughly grabbed as his father used it to drag him to his feet. He was then violently shoved into the wall, his left shoulder connecting with the hard stone with a sickening crunch. His arm was twisted into an odd and painful angle beneath him as a punch to the gut knocked all the wind out of him.
Throughout the whole beating, Draco had fought to conceal his emotions and his pain from his father. He was filled with anger, hatred, betrayal, but most of all enormous amounts pain. He gritted his teeth, determined to not give his father the satisfaction of hearing his son cry out in pain.
It was this determination to not show pain and emotion that only allowed the escape of a hiss of pain as another backhand across the face caused his head to slam against the wall. Gritting his bloody and broken teeth to ensure he would not cry out again, Draco slumped to the floor once more. He didn't move a muscle, hardly daring to breath. He hoped fervently that his father would think him unconscious and leave him be.
Lucius' heavy breathing was moving closer and Draco forced himself to relax his muscles, waiting for the final kick that would inevitably come.
With a grunt, Lucius swung his foot into the gut of his crumpled son's body. He snarled at his son in disgust one last time before sweeping out of the cold, damp room.
Draco lay completely still for several moments after his departure, making sure his father had really left. Slowly and painfully, he rolled onto his back and held a piece of torn cloth to his now bleeding nose. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he waited for his mother and a house elf to come for him. This was the pattern that had evolved since the beginning of the summer.
Sure enough, approximately fifteen minutes later, his mother and a house elf, Daisy, rushed into the room.
Narcissa took one look and her crumpled and bloodied son and tears began to stream down her face. She immediately took one of the rags she had brought and started to clean the blood off Draco's face. When finished, she cut away the excess robes and cleaned the rest of his body. Once the blood was more or less gone, she allowed Daisy to begin healing her son's body while she focused on his face.
"What was it this time, my Dragon?" she asked quietly, her distress slowly turning into anger and a thirst for answers.
"S-s-same as l-last t-time, m-mum," he said tiredly, his words slurred and broken because of the pain and exhaustion from the beating, as well as from hitting his head on the wall one too many times.
He continued after his mother healed his lip and cleaned some of the blood from his swollen tongue. "B-beating me into s-submission, h-hopping that it w-will lead m-me to the D-d-dark Lord," he paused again, allowing Narcissa to heal the cuts on his cheek as well as a gash on his temple from hitting the stone wall.
He grunted in pain, and then smirked in disgust.
"D-does he r-really think that b-beating me into s-submission is going to make me w-want to be like h-him? Or to s-serve his Master? D-does he really th-think I don't know what g-goes on during the revels? Or that I h-haven't seen him come home half d-dead sometimes from the curses and punishment and t-tests of loyalty?" Draco's words were becoming less slurred as Daisy and Narcissa continued to heal him, and as his anger and resentment towards his father grew.
"Why would I w-want to serve someone if I am to be punished more by m-my Master than by my own enemies? Does h-he not see the stupidity in that? And if he thinks b-beating me all summer is going to suddenly turn me t-to the Dark side, he's more of a fool than I thought he was. He had more of a chance of h-having me join when he was leaving me alone. But now, if he tries to lay a hand on me one more time, or on you, I'll leave, Mother. I'll go to Dumbledore if I have to."
Exhausted by the release of anger, Draco slumped once more against the wall. Daisy and Narcissa had finished healing him, and Daisy had left quietly, leaving Narcissa behind to listen Draco's ranting. She was surprised, however, by the last statement. Never before had he threatened to go to Dumbledore. He'd never even threatened to leave before, let alone go to the leader of the Light. This shocked her.
Noticing the stunned look on her face, Draco said quietly, "Mother, you know it is against the Malfoy code of honor to go against one of your own blood. But I refuse to let myself be destroyed by Father, and if I am not here to be the brunt of his anger, he will turn on you. I've seen him hit you before, even if you do try to hide it from me. I'm not a little kid anymore, you know. I don't want him hurting you."
Narcissa looked at her son quietly for several seconds before answering. When she did, her voice was hard and Draco noticed a gleam of determination in her eyes. She spoke quietly, yet with conviction, "He will not hurt us again, Draco. That I promise you." After a short pause, she continued, "Are you certain you have no intentions of joining the Dark Lord and becoming a Death Eater? Are you absolutely positive that that is what you want?" she asked watching Draco carefully.
Draco thought about her question then shook his head. "Yes, that's what I want. I mean, no, I want nothing to do with them," he stated firmly.
Narcissa considered her son for a short while then said, "Very well then. Come with me."
With that she stood up and walked out of the small room. Draco followed her slowly, with a slight limp from his injuries. They walked through the winding hallways of the basement of the mansion, till Draco no longer recognized any of the rooms around him. Finally, at the end of a particularly damp and cold hallway, Narcissa stopped in front of a plain, rotting wooden door.
Taking out a key ring from a hidden pocket of her robes, Narcissa unlocked the one deteriorating lock that looked like it could be destroyed with a single pull. The crumbling door swung open, revealing a mangy looking dungeon cell, similar to the one they had just left. Before walking into the room, Narcissa began muttering under her breath, and before Draco's eyes, a huge iron door appeared. He noticed that there were no locks or doorknobs on the door, and waited while his mother spoke the incantation to open the door.
The door swung open with a whoosh of air and Draco followed his mother into the room. Looking around, he was surprised to see it was absolutely nothing like the small cell that should have been there. It was still small, but had plush deep blue carpets, a small table and four chairs all made of marble, and a beautifully carved marble fireplace to match. The room was brightly lit by little globes of light that were suspended around the room.
When finished taking in his surroundings, Draco realized that his mother had started the fire and was contacting someone through the Floo network. Curious to see who would be on the other end, he moved closer to the fireplace and peered over his mother's shoulder.
He almost fell down in shock when Albus Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace.
"Hello Albus," said Narcissa, amused at Draco's astonishment.
"Cissa! What a pleasant surprise. And hello young Mr. Malfoy. To what do I owe the honor?" Dumbledore replied cheerfully.
"Would you care to join us for some tea, Albus? There is something that we need to discuss," Narcissa said.
"Why certainly, my dear. I shall be over straight away."
Draco and Narcissa had just enough time to back away from the fireplace before Dumbledore tumbled out. Both Malfoys jumped to steady the old wizard, who was chuckling to himself.
"I've been traveling by Floo powder for decades, and I still have no idea how to stop myself from falling unceremoniously out at every stop. Now then, before I go off trying to figure a way to travel by Floo comfortably, why don't we sit and you can tell me what you needed to discuss with me," he finished with smile.
The three sat down and Narcissa conjured a teapot and three teacups. Everyone was silent as the tea was poured and the first sips were taken. Finally, Narcissa put down her cup and said quietly, "Lucius has been trying to…persuade Draco to join the ranks of Death Eaters. The attacks started at the beginning of the summer, and have been getting progressively worse. Today was the third time this week, and was by far the worst it has ever been. Another hit to the head and I'm afraid Draco could possibly have had permanent brain damage, although I have a feeling he is unaware of exactly how severe today's injuries were."
Dumbledore looked at Draco, who noticed the twinkle was missing from the wizard's eyes. Dumbledore noticed the state that Draco's robes were in, and the slight discoloration that marked his pale skin in places where the bruises had been the worst.
"This is very grave indeed," he said sadly. Looking intently at Narcissa, he asked, "And what are you and young Mr. Malfoy going to do now?"
Glancing once more at her son, then back at Dumbledore, Narcissa answered, "I believe that would be up to you Albus. I believe he is sincere, but the choice is wholly up to you."
Dumbledore nodded, and then gazed at Draco once more.
A number of uncomfortable minutes passed before Dumbledore spoke once more.
"Draco, do you really wish to not become a Death Eater like your father and join the ranks serving Lord Voldemort?"
Draco winced at the name, even though he had grown up hearing it from his father, and answered truthfully, "I never wanted to be a Death Eater. I can't even stand saying, or even hearing the Dark Lord's name, so how would I ever be able to serve him? I'm terrified of meeting him, and would rather kill myself than subject others to the pain and torture I know my father has inflicted on people."
Dumbledore looked slightly surprised for a second, and then smiled warmly. "I must say, this is quite different from your usual attitude, Draco. It's a very mature decision you've just made. Why the change of heart, if I may ask?"
"Well, I never wanted to be like my father in the first place. The whole attitude at school was an act, a mask, so to speak. It was all to stop other Slytherins from writing to Father about my unSlytherin behavior and such. At the end of the school year, when Cedric died, I realized exactly what Father and the Dark Lord were doing, and it sickened me. I never want to be like him, so I told him that I didn't want to follow in his footsteps and become a Death Eater. As you can see, he didn't take that news very well and has spent all his time either ignoring me, or trying to beat me into obedience."
Another couple of minutes went by as Dumbledore processed this information slowly and carefully. Glancing once more at Narcissa, he turned back to Draco and said, "Would you, instead, be willing to work for the Light? For the Order?"
Stunned at being asked this, Draco was silent until he sputtered, "Y-y-yes! I'd be…I mean…of course I want to help!" Slightly embarrassed at his unMalfoy-like outburst, he turned a shade of red that rivaled the Weasley hair color, and sat watching his hands in silence.
He looked up when Dumbledore chuckled. "Well at least we know you'll be enthusiastic," he joked, relieving Draco of his embarrassment.
"What would I be able to do to help?"
"As of right now, I'm afraid nothing more than sending me owls at anything that might seem strange or uncharacteristic of your father and the 'friends' that come to visit. I do know that Death Eaters have a tendency to share information with one another, as a type of contest you could say, as to who is doing what for the Dark Lord. Any useful information would be greatly appreciated, as I am sure you are aware, especially now that Voldemorte is indeed back."
"Yes, sir. Um, may I ask you a question?"
"Of course, Draco. Please feel free."
"What do I tell my father the next time he, well, tries to persuade me to join him?"
"Hmm…yes, that could be a problem," Dumbledore muttered to himself, stoking his long beard in contemplation. "Well, what is today? Saturday the 24th? That gives you approximately a week until school begins, is that correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well then, I believe that tomorrow, Narcissa, you should take your son to Diagon Ally for the day to buy school supplies and such. And maybe a visit to your mother would be in order. I do know how she loves to see you and Draco, and what better time to go than right before the start of the new school term? Do you think that reason would be good enough to keep Lucius from both going with you and demanding to keep Draco here?"
"Well seeing as how he does hate to be in the company of my mother, and how she does get rather cranky and loves to send Howlers when he prohibits us from visiting her, that idea is perfect. If it's alright with you, Dragon," Narcissa answered, looking to Draco for his answer.
"That's fine, Mother. Anything is fine as long as I don't have to stay here, or in the company of Crabbe, Goyle, or Pansy. Speaking of which. Professor, when I do go back to school, do I pretend that I am going to be taking the Dark Mark like the other boys in my year, or are they to know that I refused?"
"I would suggest, Draco, that you continue in the same fashion as you have for the past four years. However, it would be a considerable improvement if you would kindly leave Misters Potter and Weasley and Ms. Granger alone. Not completely I understand, for you must keep up the pretense of hating them. But please, try to no longer go out of your way to cause trouble. And maybe, since we are all fighting on the same side, you might want to try and befriend them. All in private of course, and where no other Slytherins would be. I have a feeling that the Library may be just the place," he finished with a grin and the twinkle in his eyes was now mischievous.
Draco grinned and nodded in return. He then glanced at his mother and asked, "Mother, how long have you been working for Professor Dumbledore?"
"Quite a number of years now Dragon. Since the first reign of the Dark Lord. I was the one who warned the Potters that the Dark Lord was looking for them. Had it not been for that rat Pettigrew, many of my dear friends would still be alive," she answered somewhat saddened by memories of the past.
"What do you mean, your dear friend? You were friends with Lily Potter? No way!"
Dumbledore and Narcissa laughed at the look on Draco's face before Narcissa answered with a smile, "Draco, I do have friends that don't constitute of Death Eaters, my dear. Almost all of my true friends were fighters for the Light. In fact, I was one of those 'Bloody Gryffindors' you and your father, who forgets which house I am from, despise so much."
Draco gasped, and managed to squeak out, "You're joking!"
Laughing again, she answered with a smile, "No, Dragon, I assure you, I am not joking. Most of my very best friends were Gryffindors, minus those I made from your father and his sister Gina, before they became Death Eaters."
"Father has a sister? He's never mentioned one," Draco stated in confusion.
"Technically, your father no longer does have a sister, for she died shortly after your father and I were married However, that is a completely different and very long story, one I do not wish to go into right now," Narcissa finished with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"So you've been spying on Father this whole time? How did you prove your loyalty to the Dark Lord?"
Narcissa shivered, and answered, "In ways I do not even want to think of, Dragon. And yes, I have been giving the Order information for many, many years and will continue to do so until I am physically unable. There are many who are like me, Draco. Be very careful who you give your trust to. Many people are not who they seem, and I do not want anything to happen to you, or to myself. Understand?"
"Yes. It's not like I trust any of the Slytherins anyway. But I understand perfectly."
"Good. But remember that it is not only students, Dragon. Many adults, yes including teachers at Hogwarts, are not what they actually appear to be. Do not judge people quickly, especially Gryffindors and Slytherins, for then you are setting yourself up to be surprised. And that can be very dangerous, especially during a war. Always remember that Dragon. Never under- or overestimate people. It can lead to your downfall. Alright?"
"Yes."
"Good, now why don't we go tell your father that dear Mother is expecting us first thing Monday morning. Albus, you'll write to her and let her know of the developments?" Narcissa asked?
Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Yes, my dear. Of course." Turning to Draco, he said with a smile, "Welcome to the Order, Draco. I am very pleased you have decided to join us."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Next Day
Sun was streaming through the windows of the room, bathing the bed in bright sunlight. The window was open slightly, allowing the sweet scents and noises of the morning to filter into the room.
"Mmmm," came from the bed as the bird's songs and sunlight roused the figure from peaceful slumber.
Stretching slowly, content to lie in bed and bask in the peaceful sunlight and song of the birds, Harry Potter rolled onto his stomach and peered out of the window next to his bed. Judging by the sun, and the lack of bustling activity on Privet Drive, Harry concluded that it was probably around seven-thirty or eight o'clock on this beautiful Sunday morning.
Heaving a sigh of content, Harry rolled over once more onto his back. Interlocking his fingers behind his head, he absentmindedly twirled strands of thick black hair through his fingers, thinking about all that had happened this summer.
The Dursleys had been informed by Dumbledore about the events of the last year, especially the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia definitely didn't seem too happy at the fact that their despised nephew was the cause of potential attacks on their home by the most powerful dark wizard in the world. However, they had been extremely cautious around him ever since, no longer feeling safe threatening or ordering him about. At least, not as much as in previous summers.
At first, Harry had basked in his new freedom, no longer worrying about running into Dudley's gang, or being driven into slavery by his aunt and uncle. They still forced him to cook and clean and garden, but never with the underlying threat that he would be kicked out or locked in the cupboard once more if he refused to cooperate. Dudley and his gang only picked on Harry when they had absolutely nothing else to do, or when no one else was around to beat up.
With this new freedom, Harry had spent most of his free time taking walks around Privet Drive, yet never going far from the protective shields set up for his safety. However, after the first few weeks of this, he became bored and practically wished for the work and distraction that the Dursley's had provided.
With all his free time, Harry had become obsessed about Cedric's death and the return of Voldemort. He slowly sank into depression and made himself miserable by constantly going over what had taken place in the graveyard at the end of the year. Even worse was how he had beaten himself up over what he could have, yet hadn't done to prevent what had happened to Cedric.
He withdrew into himself, not noticing the changes in his relatives' attitudes towards him. They had become unnerved by his silences, and his lack of defiance. He hadn't noticed the looks that had passed between his aunt and uncle, or that his aunt had actually become worried about him. He was oblivious to the fact that Petunia had noticed the dead, blank mask that had taken over Harry's usually alert and cautious face, reminding her of her father after her mother had passed away. This worried her, for after her mother died, her father had stopped wanting to live, and had passed away within six months.
This frightened her tremendously, for she did not want Harry to die, contrary to popular belief. Even though she resented Lily dying and leaving her and Vernon to care for Harry, and the fact that they had to deal with his abnormality, she was praying fervently that he would not die. For as much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had grown slightly fond of the boy. He followed all her orders, cooked, cleaned, gardened, and very rarely asked for things in return. If he died, who would do all that? She certainly didn't want to, and she knew that there was absolutely no chance of Dudley or Vernon doing it. She was also deathly afraid of what those people would do to her and her family if Harry died while in their custody. She refused to think about that, but instead had decided to try being fairly nice to the boy, and trying to talk to him before he left for the retched school. So, she had become less hard on Harry as the summer progressed, although he hadn't seemed to notice.
And because he was so completely oblivious of the efforts Petunia had made for the previous weeks, it came as a complete shock to him when he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door on this peaceful summer morning.
::Who could that be?:: he thought suspiciously. ::No one in this family would ever knock softly, or at all for that matter.::
Harry quickly rolled of his bed, crossed the small room and cautiously opened the door. He was shocked to find his aunt there, looking extremely uncomfortable and fairly nervous.
Shocked, he stood and stared at his aunt questioningly, until she cleared her throat and said in an uncharacteristically soft voice, "Follow me."
Without another word she turned and started walking towards the stairs. Somewhat suspicious, Harry left his room and followed her.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Breathe out going down; breathe in coming up. Breathe out going down; breathe in coming up. Ten more. Breathe out going down; breathe in coming up, one. Breathe out going down; breathe in coming up, two. Eight more."
Eight more times the phrase was spoken aloud, repeated like a mantra in order to keep the boy focused.
Finally finished, the short fair-haired boy sat back on his heels. Concentrating, he conjured a cup of iced pumpkin juice. He drained the large cup quickly, soaking his parched mouth and throat and quenching his thirst. He smiled to himself, praising himself his accomplishments of a summer spent honing his abilities, both magical and physical.
Standing up slowly and catching his breath, the boy crossed his room to look out of one of the open windows. A cool breeze washed over him as his muscles slowly unclenched. Turning back towards the room, he caught sight of himself in the mirror standing in the corner. Admiring his newly formed muscles with something close to awe, he fixed his jaw and once again spoke aloud into the quiet room.
"Not this year...not this year." With that one phrase echoing in his head, he lay down on the floor once more to begin another set of exercises.
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A/N Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. If there're any questions, please ask them in reviews and I'll answer them in the next chapter. Thanks to mdemanatee, InchySquinchy, Sinister Papaya Fondue, Kate, snow-witch707, Eliza, and Thalia the Muse for their reviews!