A/N: Hey and thanks to all that have reviewed so far- its been great hearing from you. Keep at it! A reviewed writer is a happy writer. ^^

Overall I'm not particularly satisfied with this chapter. I'd love to hear how I could improve it: feedback, please! All you editors and critics out there, here's my call for help!

Oh- I haven't been putting a disclaimer. Just in case:

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I don't own Draco Malfoy, I don't own any part of J.K Rowling's lovely magical world. Thank you for shattering my fantasies. I'll go cry in the corner now and mutter about the cruelty and coldness of copyrights.

[end sarcasm]

Chapter 7

Talking about the Malfoy Estate, his father has always said, requires a certain amount of back history.

During the rise of the Dark Lord, the original manor was evacuated and destroyed by Father himself.

'Becoming a Death Eater involved sacrifice.' 'To be elite was no small thing.' From what Draco can remember, their security was compromised by a spy leak to the other side, and they were forced to destroy the location of all their plans. Father, it is said, set fire to his ancestral home without objection.

But then the war ended in defeat. Their name was all but cleared and Father began again, laying out the plans of a new home for the family name.

The result was his masterpiece, more like a city than an estate. A high outer wall surrounded the area and within it stood many separate buildings connected by a system of garden-lined paths. Each compound was self-contained: the master's chambers, the distant practice rooms adjoining the Quidditch field, Mother's sewing nook.

Nearest to the front gates was the only two-story building in the area, and the largest. The formal ballroom, dining room, drawing room, and kitchens could all be found here, used to play host to social events.

In fact, there was soon to be one any day now- the final soiree his home would ever see. There would be fine music, Draco thought, but not as fine as the music the Malfoy's had played. The food would be excellent as well.

The quality of the guests, however, would see the greatest fall in standards. It made Draco feel sick. Weasley's in his house. Weasley's. He began to think that he would be forced to destroy the Estate himself and save it the indignity.

But then, he was thinking irrationally. 'War may not be the best of times,' he told himself, 'but there is always life after it.' Father had known this, playing one role in war and another entirely in polite society. He had struck a delicate balance, managed to keep his casualties low, and came out of battle mostly unscathed.

He had maintained the Malfoy name.

This was Draco's task. Respect and a certain amount of fear were already established, and his personal duty was in maintenance. Blowing up a home and half the ministry along with it would do little to help.

There were other things he could do.

"This is it," said Lupin heavily.

Harry looked up. They stood at the solid iron entrance gates of the Malfoy Estate and he was awed in spite of himself, ashamed because of this. When had he begun letting Malfoys leave him speechless?

"It's...ugly," he said lamely.

"It's nicer inside." Lupin walked past him and lifted the latch.

"Fine. It doesn't matter, does it?" Harry pushed past and shouldered the door open. "Are we going in or not?"

They went in. Harry shut the gate behind them and steeled himself to hate whatever he might see.

All in all, it wasn't so difficult a task. The paths were lined with gardens but the flowers were becoming feral, overtaking the path with shoots and tremendous blooms. Lupin approached the bushes, standing near enough to touch them. "I should have known this would happen."

"Why?" asked Harry.

Lupin glanced up at him with a look of chagrin. "Well, ah- my mother gardened. For the Malfoys, that is. Back then it was good work."

Harry stopped, staring. "Your mother worked for the Malfoys. Tell me you're not part house elf or something."

"No, thankfully," replied Lupin. "Though the Malfoys do have house elves for most housekeeping. Plants, however, need a more...human touch. Of course, there's more to it than just that, spells and what not. If Fudge had the area stripped of all remaining magic, then naturally the gardens would've grown wild." Lupin jerked his hand back suddenly, scattering petals. "I'm being a fool. I don't know why I'm letting myself go on like this- come on, Harry. Let's go."

They made their way up the pathway towards the main building, an assortment of tan and cream-colored brick. A short flight of steps led to a raised terrace that overlooked the gardens. The afternoon sun threw shadows beneath a portico that encircled the house.

Beneath it were Ron and Hermione, waiting for him. When she spotted Lupin and Harry trudging towards them, Hermione jumped up from her chair and hurried forward to embrace Harry in a ferocious, one-armed hug.

"Harry!" she cried, letting go of him. "And Professor Lupin, you're finally here!" Ron trotted down the steps, grinning.

"Oy, Harry, what took you?"

Harry glanced quickly at Lupin. "We ran a little late." He frowned at Hermione, who had her right arm in a sling. "What happened to you?"

Hermione hesitated- barely, but it was there, nonetheless. She paused, and then laughed too easily. "I- I fell, you see. Tripped over Crookshanks as I was coming down the stairs, it was nothing really. Only a sprain." She lifted it up to show him. "See? It's nearly better now. I can't feel a thing!"

It was such an obvious lie that Harry couldn't help but stare. Hermione flushed.

Ron coughed, grabbing hold of Harry's free arm and pulling him up the steps. "Never mind that, Harry. They'll be wanting you settled in. I heard they're nearly done with the search, so you won't have to stay here for too long. And guess where they're putting you? You won't believe it - they've got you in Malfoy's Room! How bloody excellent is that? Imagine what you could destroy in there!-..."

But Harry was barely listening, instead casting glances back at Hermione. She had trailed behind with Lupin ad looked oddly fretful, almost as if she were on the verge of tears.

"Oy, Harry, are you listening? You won't want to miss the Quidditch pitch. Those Malfoys may all be evil, dirty old sods but they do know how to live."

"Sure, Ron," said Harry listlessly, wrenching his gaze away. "Sure."

"Wait."

Lupin stopped. Hermione Granger had grabbed his arm.

For a moment he wanted to be angry with her. Harry was in danger here, shouldn't she have known that by now? To let him walk away with only Ron as a guard would do no favors for anyone.

But he stopped, he wasn't quite sure why- her hand was trembling on his sleeve and maybe she reminded him the slightest bit of himself. He couldn't ignore it. "Miss Granger?"

She seemed relieved, almost as if she knew that he had been ready to refuse her. "Professor, I just..."

"Yes?"

"I lied to Harry just now."

He remained unmoved. "I thought all of us realized that, Miss Granger." She bit her lip.

"I guess I'm not very good at lying," she said quietly. "But I wanted to know...if Harry will be all right if I told him..."

"What?" he asked sharply. "That you no longer plan on being a witch? That you aren't returning to Hogwarts?"

She gripped his sleeve more tightly. "Do you need to say that as if there were any other choice?"

"It's only what I've told you before. You could better help in this war if you were educated, and you can't help at all if you give up. I'm sure Harry would tell you the same thing."

"I'm not worried about what Harry will tell me," she said. "I'm worried that he'd take it badly if I left."

Lupin sighed. "I can tell you that he'll take it badly, whatever way you choose."

"But which way would hurt him less?" she pleaded. Her expression was desperate and raw, so open that he replied reluctantly, though he knew what had to be done. 

"Stay. Don't hurt him at all." He set down his bag. "Do you want to know the truth? I've been his guardian for the past few weeks and I've seen some things. I've broken his trust," he said bitterly. "And no, he didn't take it well. He won't take anything well, Miss Granger, not anymore."

"I don't understand."

"Please just try then. I don't know how much more he can accept." He studied her closely. "We've got to depend on him now. We've got to do all we can to bring him up to that one moment, so he can fulfill his prophecy."

"I know that!" Hermione cried, covering her face. "I know!"

Rather than reply, Lupin knelt down and retrieved his bag. "Then you know that you have to make your own decision. There's nothing I can do for that."

He turned to walk away but Hermione threw herself at him, catching the back of his cloak and pulling it to her face like a frightened child would. She began to sob, her face pressed between his shoulder blades, his cloak gripped tightly in one fist.

He let her cry undisturbed. After awhile, her choked sobs died down and became a soft snuffling muted by fabric. Gently, he worked himself loose and put an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"Shh," he murmured, trying his best to soothe her. "I didn't mean any of that to hurt you. I think we all want what's best for Harry, that's all it is."

Hermione blinked tears out her eyes, laughing in embarrassment. "I'm sorry...I'm being stupid." She wiped her face with the sleeve of her robe. "I guess I just realized how much my life is part of Harry's, now."

"That's not so silly," Lupin replied. "It's only the truth." He straightened the front of his robes and reached out towards her. "Are you ready to go?"

She smiled. "Finally."

Walking towards Draco's rooms was more difficult than Harry had bargained for. Since the Estate had been abandoned, its gardens had become overgrown. Harry found himself pushing through tangled rose bushes, the thorns catching at his sleeves and nipping persistently at his face and hands.  The scent was heavy on the air, so strong that he could almost taste it in his mouth. Smaller flowers- larkspur, sea lavender, green ivy that had crept through the stone; it was beautiful in the odd way that disorder often was. 

The last stretch of his walk had already been cleared. Harry and Ron emerged, scratched but otherwise unharmed.

"Lucky bastard, that Malfoy." Ron whistled.

Harry couldn't help but be a bit envious himself. Draco's so-called "rooms" were nearly the size of a normal house. Sitting on the front step, orange-haired, was Tonks.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said, standing up to meet them. "But really, Ron-," She frowned in mock-seriousness. "Took you long enough to get him here. I was going mad with boredom."

Ron scowled. "When are they going to get those stupid bushes cut back? I swear, if we aren't attacked first, I'm going to keel over from blood loss!"

Tonks laughed. "Take it like a wizard."

"Hey Tonks," said Harry, nudging up his glasses with his free hand. "Are you assigned to be my guard or is this just a welcoming party?"

She snorted. "Someone's gotten snarky during holidays. I'm guarding you for now at least- I think we'll be doing shifts."

"What I don't understand," said Ron loudly. "Is why they won't let me take a turn."

"You're not part of the Order is why. How many times have I got to tell you? Besides, each and every time a pretty witch strolls by, Ickle Ronnikins blushes and wouldn't notice if You Know Who himself charged in."

Ron buried his face in his hands, but Harry could still see him turning bright red. "I can't believe Fred and George told her that nickname!" he muttered hotly.

"And Hermione is another story entirely-" 

"Sod off, sod off, sod off!"

Edging past them, Harry let himself in. He had barely appraised his surroundings- a glimpse of Draco's Nimbus and a painting hung above the bed were all he really caught- when a piercing alarm screamed through the air, making all three of them hasten to cover their ears.

Harry pitched down his trunk and dashed outside again, wand at the ready. "WHAT'S THE MATTER?" he shouted, wincing.

Both Ron and Tonks had their wands out as well. "THAT'S THE ALARM-" began Tonks.

"NO REALLY," Ron yelled.

She glared at him poisonously and then stumbled down the stairs. Harry and Ron followed. "IT MEANS THAT THERE'S AN INTRUDER ON THE GROUNDS." She turned back and grabbed Harry tightly by the arm without stopping. "WE'VE GOT TO GET HARRY SOMEWHERE SECURE! WHERE'S THAT DAMN LUPIN? HE WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY WITH YOU, HE KNOWS THAT WE HAVEN'T GOT ALL THE WARDS UP, I SWEAR-"

She began dragging Harry down the path, fumbling with her wand all the while. "IF MOODY WERE HERE...," she howled, "YOU'D BE FINE. BUT NO! YOU'VE GOT ME!" She knocked him on the top of her head with her wand. Harry got familiar feeling of having a cold egg smashed there but had no time to think about it.

Ron looked at him and cursed. "BLOODY HELL, HARRY-" Harry glanced down at his toes in alarm. His trainers were blotchy; he could see through to the ground through certain parts of his feet, but not others.

"STUFF IT," shouted Tonks, before running headlong into Lupin. Hermione was right behind him. Still panting, Lupin took one look at Harry and sighed, though the alarm was far too loud for anyone to hear him.

"REMUS-"

"TELL ME YOU DIDN'T TRY A DISILLUSIONMENT CHARM, TONKS!"

"NEVERMIND THAT! WHERE WAS THE BREACH?"

Lupin began driving Harry down the path, Tonks just ahead of him and Ron and Hermione just behind. They heldd their hands up to shield their faces as they ran. "TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT. I'M HEADED THERE TO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON. GET THESE THREE TO THE ENTRANCE HALL."

But then, abruptly, the alarm died. They halted in their tracks and waited.

"I suppose," said Ron after a few beats of silence, "that Tonks is going to tell us that the alarm is off."

"Quiet, you." Tonks scanned the area, but there was no one to be seen.

"Either they've caught the intruder or whoever it was has gotten away," said Lupin thoughtfully. "I suppose all we can do is get Harry back there, and the wards up as quickly as we can."

"Sounds fair enough." Tonks nodded. "I'll go on ahead, to be safe."

She ducked under a low-lying branch and disappeared from view. Taking out his wand, Lupin considered for a moment before giving Harry a sharp tap to the head. A quick glance at his shoulders and toes showed that Harry was whole again.

And then they waited. The alarm still rang dully in his ears, leaving a stain on what would have been a perfect silence. Waiting. His heart raced in his chest. Though his wand hand trembled, it made no sound except in his mind. Waiting. He expected the enemy to appear at any moment, at this moment when they were at their weakest, least protected.

The bushes rustled and Tonks appeared, shaking her head.

"I can't believe this!" she raved, catching her foot on a rock and then kicking at the rock in retaliation. She looked at Lupin, eyes on fire. "They knew we would try to get Harry to safety-"

"What do you mean?" said Lupin quickly.

"They weren't coming for us at all! I went back to that Malfoy boy's rooms, where we're putting Harry- and I saw the door was closed. I didn't remember shutting it on our way out-"

"What happened?" Hermione asked, pressing. "Did you catch them in there? Was something stolen?"

"That's just it!" said Tonks angrily. "They've taken Harry's Firebolt! I mean, really- breaking into the Estate to get hold of a racing broom..."

"What?" said Harry, staggered.

"Harry's Firebolt?!" Ron's eyes grew as round as Dobby's. "His Firebolt," he repeated disbelievingly.  

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. They'd taken his broom. Did everything he own need to be taken from him? Was he to be denied any semblance of a normal life? Harry wanted to scream but suppressed the need, he wanted to throw things but knew- it would do absolutely nothing. He already knew the answers to the questions he would ask.

So, instead, Harry swallowed and moved on.

"I think," he said suddenly, startling the others. "We should go back."

Lupin's expression softened. "Of course."

They went back, and though Harry knew he would not find what he was looking for, he looked for it anyway. As it was, Draco's broom was gone as well.