Chapter Seven: Headlines
Nearly a week after the fateful trip to Diagon Alley, mornings at Grimmauld place were still rather gloomy. Breakfast was somber as Ron, Hermione, and Harry gathered around the table for cold cereal, as it seemed no one else except them, were in the house. As the boys ate, and in between her own spoonfuls, Hermione read from the front page of the Daily Prophet.
There had been chaos after the attack, investigations and repair and every day something new and terrible was discovered, usually a person. "In total, the body count rose to seventeen, twelve of which were injured, three critically, and two dead. Although Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic in London, expressed shock and outrage at the Death Eater attack, suspicions have arisen that the Ministry may have known the aggression was coming, even days in advance. When asked to comment, Fudge declined." She finished reading with a frustrated whine and tossed the paper onto the table.
It was picked up by a slender, white hand. Draco, fully dressed for the day ahead in slacks and a button down shirt, sat casually in his spot at the head of the table. It was a bit of a shock for Ron and Hermione, who knew nothing of the conversation Harry and Draco had had many nights ago in the drawing room. Ever since then, Draco had come to join them for every meal. Harry just smiled and slid the cereal box towards the blonde.
"Total of Seventeen Casualties in Diagon Alley Death Eater Raid" He read the headline aloud and smirked, filling his bowl absently as his eyes darted over the article beneath the bold script and the picture of the Dark Mark glittering in the sky over Gringotts Bank. It was still there, to this day!
"What are you smiling about?" Ron asked as he stabbed his cereal angrily. It was the only outlet for his upset with this whole 'let's be nice to Malfoy' kick that Hermione and now Harry were suddenly on. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" He jabbed the utensil in his hand at Draco, splashing milk.
Hermione's nose wrinkled and she frowned. "Ron, please, you're making a mess."
Draco smiled serenely as he finished the article and folded the paper back up, setting it down on the table. Milk was added to his cereal as he asked, "you mean, Weasley, do I know anything about it because my parents are Death Eaters?"
"Yeah, that's basically what I'm asking." Ron replied acidly, his eyes narrowed. "If you're having such a difficult time keeping up I can write everything out for you."
"Honestly," Draco replied with a roll of his eyes as he hooked an arm over the back of his chair and leaned into it. "I knew all about the attack months and months before. In fact, I have a calendar hanging up on the roof of my trunk counting off all the days until the big hoorah!" He made a small, explosive gesture with his fingers. "It's the day marked with the evil, sharp toothed smiley-face."
Harry made a slightly disturbed face at this and glanced at Hermione, laughing nervously. He was kidding right?
"So funny I forgot to laugh." Ron complained, partly to spite Harry, and shoved his mouth full of breakfast. "I wonder where my mum went." He muttered, glaring down into his bowl as he chewed. If his mother was here, she wouldn't let Malfoy walk around smiling about a Death Eater attack. Or, at the very least, she'd give him some work to do so he wouldn't have to look at Draco's rat face all morning.
"There's a meeting for the Order today," Draco informed him in a bored tone before he started on his cereal. The look of distaste he got whenever he ate anything at this table had diminished somewhat. Of course, it was pretty difficult to screw up cereal. He would have only himself to blame. "It's a little strange, isn't it? That they go everywhere else to hold their stupid meetings. Isn't this place supposed to be the H.Q.?"
"Oh, right!" Ron seethed anew. It seemed no matter what Draco said or did it brought him one step closer, teetering over the edge into outrage. "And how would you know that they're having a meeting, Malfoy? Huh? What are you, skulking around this house eavesdropping on everyone's conversations? Spying on them? Collecting information for your hooded little friends?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, collecting her cereal bowl and bringing it to the sink to pour the milk out. She couldn't sit here and watch Ron make a fool out of himself.
"I read it on the note she left stuck to your door, nimrod." The blonde replied blandly. "Didn't you see it, Weasel?"
Harry couldn't help himself anymore. At his best friends disgusting lack of detail recognition, he laughed out loud, clapping his hand over his mouth to stop himself when Ron glared at him.
"What's so bloody funny, Harry? You think he's pretty funny huh?" Ron's voice was lifting as he got to his feet. Harry's brows rose slightly as his friend turned on him. "Which part was it? That I'm a nimrod or a weasel? Which part was funniest to you?"
"I wasn't laughing at that, Ron." Harry replied a bit desperately. Ron was really angry. So angry, his face was starting to change colors. This was the last thing he needed, for Ron to be upset with him.
"Right. Sure. Of course not." Ron growled, slamming his hands down on the table. "You and your new chum are really pissing me off!"
Harry's brows furrowed, his gaze narrowing to tiny slivers of green as Ron spoke. "What's the big idea! I can't even laugh anymore without you thinking I'm turning on you! It's not my fault you did something stupid so stop trying to take it out on me!"
"Uh oh." Draco looked from one boy to the other, both of them on their feet with their fists at their sides. "It looks like trouble's brewing in paradise!"
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Both Gryffindors shouted at Draco and then glanced at each other in surprise. The fact that they both shared the same desire to yell at the mouthy blonde soothed their ruffled injustice and slowly the two boys reclaimed their seats.
"Whatever." Ron said briskly, looking away with a noncommital wave of his hand.
"Fine." Harry muttered and lifted his bowl to drink his milk.
"Boys!" Hermione shook her head as she left the kitchen.
Draco ate his cereal.
****
Dear Draco,
Your mother and father would first like to express our fondest, most sincere yule time wishes to you during the holiday season. Your mother is especially disappointed that you have chosen not to return home during your winter break and I have decided to cheer her up with a vacation to the Alps. You know your mother has always enjoyed mountains, especially during a snow storm. However, please pay close attention to your mail as you know your mother cannot let an opportunity to shower you with gifts pass. Be sure to respond to her love with a lengthy letter of thanks.
In regards to the other matters in your letter that you labeled to be most 'pressing', I must say that I am disappointed. Away from my guidance, your plebeian behavior astounds and disgusts me. You are the arms and legs of the Malfoy family every moment you are away from our home, an ambassador, if you will, and even if you aren't aware, there are others who are watching you as an example on how to conduct themselves. You must lead them appropriately in ways that will endear and sway them to your side. I know this is a difficult concept for you to grasp and maneuver so I will spell it out plainly for you so that you can understand.
As I have told you, I will tell you again, and as many times as it is necessary for you to finally comprehend. No matter what your personal feelings may be, it is not wise to appear so adverse to Harry Potter. He is, after all, regarded as the savior of wizard kind, he who saved us all from the shackles of the Dark Lord.
I am sure you remember the speech I gave you repeatedly on the importance of appearances. I will stress this again as once more I see you've left the 's' off of that all important word. It is okay to sneer in private if in public you wear a smile. Do you understand this? I have never thought of you as a dull boy.
Regarding the Chamber of Secrets, the petrification of muggle born and squibs, the heir of Slytherin: keep your head down. These are matters that do not involve you. As my son, you are separate from all of these things. The Chamber of Secrets is nothing but a legend. Whatever is happening to those children, although truly tragic, is none of your concern. Steer clear of this situation, do not relate to it or stick out because of it.
Instead, I suggest you use this opportunity to concentrate on your studies. Although I've been generous enough to give you a racing broom this term, if you cannot improve your grades I will be forced to take it away. I don't believe a Seeker can play games without a broom.
Work hard. Knowing your curious nature this will be difficult. Rest assured, however, that some day, I will tell you everything.
Your father,
Lucius
****
After the members of the Order that stayed at Grimmauld Place over the summer returned home from their meeting, things began to change. None of the children were allowed outside unattended, and even then, not more than a few feet from the house. During the day, but especially at night, there were many more visitors. Because they stayed all night or all day long, Harry surmised they were guards although they moved and changed guarding points too erratically for him to be sure.
Like always, it was difficult to glean any information from any of Grimmauld's guests about just what had been discussed at the meeting, what had happened and decided on, that things at the house had changed so rapidly.
For weeks the front page of the Prophet was a colorful array of terrible stories. A terrible cycle of Death Eater attacks on wizarding communities, buildings, and on authorities, counting the body toll, repair, and the next attack. It went on and on, day in and day out, and well into the balmy, days of August.
Fear and terror was widespread as those who had survived Voldemort's first reign of power recalled similar events and details. Terrible murders and terrible violence they had thought long since over and healed, were returning to them with full bloody force. For those that had been born since Voldemort's defeat, the terrors were new. Terrible nightmares and stories brought into reality. Their questions were asked, fears expressed, with round, wide eyes and trembling fingers and answered in the same way.
It was terrible to the point that Harry could no longer stand to read the paper. He didn't want to hear about how people were suffering, living in fear. Most importantly, he avoided the editorials. At least every day one or two people wrote to the editor complaining about him. Where was Harry Potter? They asked, as if they expected him to swoop in and save them all.
At breakfast one morning when Mr. Weasley sat down to join them, he had something to say. Mrs. Weasley had been nervous all morning. She'd bustled about in the kitchen and rambled at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco about school and N.E.W.T.S, which they would have next year, before she left, without eating anything, to go back upstairs. "Molly and I are going to go into London today," Arthur explained as he cut up a banana, dropping round slices on top of his cereal. "Your sister's coming back a bit early from her trip because of everything that's been going on. Last night, the town she was staying in was attacked by Death Eaters."
"What?" Harry couldn't hide the alarm from his voice. Hermione gasped out loud, slapping her hands over her mouth. She glanced nervously at Ron who had stopped reading the comics in the Prophet and was now staring at his father.
"Don't worry, don't worry," Arthur added quickly with a gentling motion of his hands, patting down the tense air. "She's okay, she wasn't hurt, but still, she's coming home."
"Well I'd say!" Ron finally announced, his eyes narrowing as he flipped the paper over to the front page. Today, the Death Eaters had moved into muggle cities. That meant the place this morning's article was talking about was probably the same American muggle city that his sister had gone to. "I knew she shouldn't have gone. I had a bad feeling about it."
"Well, your mother and I are going to collect her today. We'll be gone for a while, the four of you should stay here. Your mother wants you to start cleaning your bedrooms, start getting ready for school. If you need anything, Lupin and Professor Snape are in the basement, but try not to bother them."
No one really needed to ask why Professor Snape and Lupin were in the basement at this particular moment. The full moon had been marked in red on every calendar and was swiftly approaching.
"Can't we go with you?" Ron asked, turning towards his father with an intense look in his eyes. Ginny was the only other Weasley child left besides himself, and the only girl in their family as well. He wanted to be there when she arrived. He had to make sure she was well taken care of. He had to make sure she really wasn't hurt. "Or I can at least?"
"Eh..." Mr. Weasley looked at his son to his breakfast and back again. "I'll talk to your mother, Ron, but you know how she can be at times like this."
"I'm going." Ron announced in a firm tone and got up, tossing his bowl into the sink and leaving the kitchen. "I'll go get ready right now!" There was no way, Harry knew as he watched Ron dart up the stairs, that he was going to get left behind.
"When will you be back?" Draco asked, watching Mr. Weasley over the lip of his tea cup. He had been so quiet up until that point, Harry had forgotten that Draco was even there this morning.
"What? Uh..." Arthur looked a little confused as he addressed Draco's question. The blonde had been staying there for over two months now and this was the first thing he'd ever said to him. "Well, by dinner time for sure. Although maybe," And here he looked towards Hermione and Harry "maybe the two of you can make something for dinner? I'm sure Molly–"
"Of course." Hermione interjected. "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, Harry and I will take care of everything." Mrs. Weasley should be able to spend time with her daughter instead of losing herself in the kitchen making dinner for them.
Arthur smiled as he finished his cereal and prepared to leave the kitchen, picking up the Prophet since everyone seemed to be done with it. "Thank you, Hermione. We really appreciate this." She smiled at him. "I'll see you later," addressing the group as a whole, Mr. Weasley left the kitchen to collect his wife and son.
Although Harry and Hermione were able to finish their breakfasts in time to see the three family members off to collect the fourth, Draco alone seemed to possess the ability to make the same cup of tea last until the trio of red hair had completely driven away.
When the two Gryffindors sat down at the kitchen table with a cook book, Draco excused himself, leaving his dishes on the table before disappearing upstairs.
"He's acting weird, isn't he?" Hermione asked, looking from over the top of the book to her friend. "He's hardly snarked at anyone since this whole Death Eater thing."
In return, Harry blinked and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Hermione. He's probably just trying to not be involved. It would be too easy for people to jump to conclusions about him if he acted either too happy or two upset by everything in the paper. Especially with Ron, you know how he is. He's just waiting for an opportunity to catch Draco in the act of doing something he shouldn't."
"He still thinks Draco's a cohort of the Dark Lord, huh?" Hermione rolled her eyes with a sigh and turned the page. "I don't know where he gets his ammunition from. I think Draco's making a genuine effort, more or less, to settle in."
Harry thought about that, looking over at Hermione with a warm smile. He was glad she was on his side with the whole Malfoy situation. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand it if everyone in the Prophet, plus his two best friends, were against him. "I think he is too. He told me one night that he was ready to make a change. If he was ever going to be a Death Eater, I don't think that's what he'll choose now."
"Well I don't see how he could." Hermione agreed before a curious knit tugged on her brows. "What do you mean he told you? When was this?"
"Weeks ago." Harry brushed it off.
"Well where were Ron and I?" How long had Harry been sneaking off doing important things like this without them? Ron's opinion of Draco may have been seriously altered if he had been there for the conversation Harry was referring to.
Harry smirked, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "Snogging."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she looked for salvation in the pages of the book. "Oh," She said quickly.
Thankfully, Hermione was spared from any furthering of the conversation as Draco walked past them towards the drawing room. What made it peculiar was the fact that he was wearing his robes, like he was planning on going out somewhere. The two friends looked at each other, eyebrows raised, before they set the book down and followed him.
"Hey Draco!" Harry called, and the blonde paused in the doorway to the drawing room looking back at them. "Where are you going?"
"No where." He replied with a cat-like smile before disappearing into the room.
"Hey! Hey, hey!" Naturally they followed, Hermione already scolding. "We're not allowed to go anywhere, Draco, you can't just–" But as soon as they poked their head into the drawing room it was already too late. The flames in the large, monstrous fireplace were already burning bright emerald, Draco among them.
"Malfoy!" Harry glared.
"Diagon Alley!" Draco replied with a smirk and in an instant he was gone.
****
Lucius Malfoy had been more than a bit startled to have anyone come bursting into his cell at this time of day in Azkaban Fortress. Let alone four someones. It was true he was monitored, he knew he had to be, but really the only time someone actually came into his cell was very early in the morning, which had already happened, and very late at night, which was still hours and hours away!
The proud man lifted his head as his room was suddenly flooded by a handful of people. "Lucius Malfoy," a strangely familiar voice said although he wasn't able to put his finger on just who it was.
"W-what?" He asked blurrily, his throat and lips dry. He couldn't make out just who his visitors were, their shapes were too dark. They melted in perfectly with the shadows around him. As they came closer and laced their arms through his, hefting him to his feet, he began to understand.
A hand, the only bit of skin he could make out on the cloaked figures, grabbed his wrist and pushed the sleeves of his robes up over his forearm revealing the snake entwined skull on his pale skin, surrounded by poorly healing cuts and gouges. "My, my," the one that was holding his wrist examined the brand, scraping a finger nail over the abused skin. "Trying to tear it off are you, Lucius?"
The blonde winced, trying to jerk his arm away but the other held him firmly, tearing up already formed scabs. "You should know it's useless by now to free yourself from your destiny." Lucius couldn't help but whimper in pain as a scab was pulled off, bits of freshly formed skin with it. The figure that held him laughed when blood began to well up and drip slowly towards the ground. "It's him." He announced and tossed Lucius arm down. Turning, the figures began to file out, the one who had spoke gesturing. "Bring him."
"What? No!" Lucius' eyes went wide and he pushed his heels into the slick, stone floor. "I don't want to go! You can't make me go, please! I'm useless! I'm completely useless to Him now!" He made futile attempts to wriggle away, to grab the frame of his cell door as he was pulled out of it. "I'm completely useless!"
"You always were." The lead Death Eater snarled and lifted his wand, jabbing it against Lucius' forehead. He hardly had time to realize what was going on before a spell was cast. "Stupefy!" When their captive's body jerked with the force of the point black spell and then slumped unconscious, he was dragged through the smokey, rubble-cluttered hallways of Azkaban Fortress.
When Lucius Malfoy woke again it was with a searing pain in his arm so intense he wouldn't be surprised if all of his flesh had been completely torn off the bone. His holler, as he clutched his branded arm to his chest, accompanied with his writing in the dirt brought many smiles and a few chuckles from the ring of black cloaked figures that circled him. "Your pathetic, worm-like wiggling suits you well, Lucius."
The blonde groaned as the pain persisted for seconds longer before slowly abating to a dull ache. His fingers twitching against his stomach, he curled up into a ball on the ground. His tears mingled with tortured sweat that ran in rivulets down his face and into his clothes. "M-My Lord.." He heard himself stammer as he slowly unfolded himself, pushing himself up.
Lucius got only as far as his hands and knees before Voldemort made a gesture with his fingers. From behind, a foot caught the back of Lucius' head, pushing him back down into the dirt, a heel grinding into his neck.
"You've betrayed me for the last time, Lucius."
Lucius felt the foot on the back of his head draw back as he was once again grabbed beneath the arms. His body was twisted upwards onto his knees, boots pressing his calves into the ground. A hand curled through his blonde hair to hold his head steady.
"You know well the punishment for those who betray me. You've seen it many times." From the circle, Lucius watched with mind-splitting horror as Voldemort stepped forward. His scaly, gray hand with its yellow nails curled tightly around his wand.
Dread welled up in the back of his throat but when Lucius tried to even fidget, the hold the other Death Eater's had on him tightened. Trembling, the reason the sun rose every morning heard himself moan out a sob. "Please don't kill me! Please don't kill me." He begged. "I have been loyal to you! To the very end I've been loyal. I've served you for years! For over half my life I've loyally served you my lord! I've done everything you've ever asked of me!"
"You've done everything I've ever asked of you." Voldemort repeated and although his voice was soft and patient, Lucius knew otherwise. "You haven't done anything I've asked you to, Lucius. You've made many sorrowful attempts but every one of them have failed pathetically. Wormtail is more suiting a servant to me than you are."
"That's not true!" Lucius' eyes were round with fear as Voldemort's wand was lifted.
"Are you saying that I'm lying?"
The conversation had taken a dangerous turn and Lucius tried to shake his head 'no' but whoever was holding his hair cruelly forced him to nod. "No!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, despite the gesture his head was making. "My lord, I would never!"
He could feel the tip of Voldemort's wand, burning hot and inches from his skin as it moved slowly over his face. "You've tried to rid yourself of me." The Dark Lord continued. "After Potter's interference you turned your back on me, like many of the other cowards, few of which are in our presence now. "
"I had good reason, my lord! To prepare the way for your return!"
"I have heard all of this before, Lucius. By now the excuse has worn thin." Voldemort's wand was drawn back. From his stretched position all Lucius could see of it was the glowing red end as it swam upwards through the darkness.
"I-I-I-" He stammered, his mind whirring through all the possibilities of things he could say to placate his master's wand.
"Avada K-" when the cold whisper of the spell began, Lucius shouted the very last option that his mind had settled on. Although it was feeble, it was the most promising.
"My son!" He hollered out loud, his voice breaking with desperation. He closed his eyes, waiting for the Dark Lord's previous spell to be finished, to strike him in the chest and to kill him.
But it never came.
"Your son?" Voldemort asked, his wand frozen in mid spell, crackling venomously with poisonous magic.
"My son!" Lucius said again, this time dread replaced by relief. "Yes my son! My little boy Draco!" Overjoyed at the possibility of having spared his own life, he babbled, "Yes! I've been raising him for you, My Lord! To be your tool. Since he was a child I have instructed him carefully, taught him necessities, so that some day, so that today! So that today he could join your side. I've crafted him as the perfect weapon for you, My Lord!"
"Is that a fact?"
Someone that was holding Lucius up didn't seem to take too kindly to this sudden turn of conversation. The hand in his hair tightened to the point that it began to tear. Lucius' eyes turned wet, but he forced himself not to look away from Voldemort.
"Yes, My Lord!" Lucius whimpered. "He will serve you! He will serve you well! It is the finest gift that I could ever give you. My one and only son. My own flesh and blood."
Voldemort seemed to be weighing this as he looked down at the trembling, tortured pureblood at his feet. After what seemed like an eternity, he stepped away, waving his hand at the knot of Death Eaters responsible for holding Lucius down. "Release him. Take care of him, give him a wand, but keep careful watch. He isn't free of his nightmares yet."
"Thank you, My Lord!" Lucius cried as he was tossed forward onto the ground by those that had been holding him. He was more than happy to press his face into the dirt as the Dark Lord left the ring of his followers. "Thank you! Thank you!"
"Let us hope your son isn't nearly as big a disappointment as you are, Lucius."
****
Draco was rather proud of himself by the time he returned to 12 Grimmauld Place. Even though it was well after dinner time, he didn't seem concerned at the possibility that others had been worried about him. He was carrying several bags with him as he stepped out of the flames of the drawing room fireplace and into the hands of a room full of very angry witches and wizards. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Remus Lupin, Professor Snape, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny Weasley had all gathered, and were waiting for him.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" Shrieked Mrs. Weasley, already on her feet and marching towards him. "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG WE'VE BEEN SITTING HERE WORRYING ABOUT YOU? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ATTACKED! WORSE YET, KILLED! BUT DID YOU EVEN STOP TO THINK ABOUT THAT BEFORE RUNNING OFF LIKE ONE OF MY IDIOT SONS?"
"Hey!" Ron protested but was quickly quelled when his mother cast him a sharp look.
Mrs. Weasley had noted the way that Draco's face had moved from shock, to anger, to rage as she yelled at him but before he got a chance to open his mouth, Snape lifted a pale hand, gesturing to him. "Not wise, Mister Malfoy."
Draco was quiet for a moment, glaring at them before he held up his bags. "I needed to get my school things!" He announced in a biting tone. "It's none of your business where I go anyway! It's not like you're my parents that you can order me around! You disgusting, vi-"
"Malfoy!" Ginny interjected, already getting to her feet. "Don't you say another word about my mother or I'll end you!"
Draco glanced over at her in shock, scoffed, but at the same time looked a little nervous as he settled down. He'd never seen such murderous intent from the littlest Weasley before. "Like you could, really!" He huffed.
"You shouldn't have left like that." Harry protested, although he remained in his seat. "I told you you shouldn't leave but you did anyway."
"Like I care what you'd–" Draco let his voice trail off. There was something odd in the air, past the furious worry of him having disappeared for an entire day. It was as if something else had happened but no one wanted to say it. It made his stomach twist. "What? What happened?"
Lupin sighed and pushed himself up wearily from his chair. He held out a folded copy of the Evening Prophet towards him. Draco set his bags of school things down and took it from him, brows furrowed. "What?"
"Read the front page." Mr. Weasley suggested.
Draco turned the paper over to the headline and instantly felt all of the blood drain from his face. He had to read it again just to be sure it said what he thought it did, his fingers shaking as they gripped the paper's edge. Then he just stared at it, reading the headline over and over, his mouth moving silently. His head buzzed, filled with dizzy thoughts. Finally, aloud, he said "Azkaban Fortress Raided, Lucius Malfoy At Large."
-----------------
**Authors Note**
I wanted to take the time now, about halfway through "Sold!" to say a few thanks. First of all, I want to publically recognize my favorite Beta, Choco, who always takes care of me and encourages me to write the next chapter.
Of course, I also wanted to thank all of you who have replied to my paultry attempt at fan fiction. This is the first chapter fic I've ever officially posted on a site like this and to have all of your support really means a lot to me!
Please continue to support me and read my fic until the very end! Someday, someday I swear there will be some H/D (like, the next chapter for sure)
Nearly a week after the fateful trip to Diagon Alley, mornings at Grimmauld place were still rather gloomy. Breakfast was somber as Ron, Hermione, and Harry gathered around the table for cold cereal, as it seemed no one else except them, were in the house. As the boys ate, and in between her own spoonfuls, Hermione read from the front page of the Daily Prophet.
There had been chaos after the attack, investigations and repair and every day something new and terrible was discovered, usually a person. "In total, the body count rose to seventeen, twelve of which were injured, three critically, and two dead. Although Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic in London, expressed shock and outrage at the Death Eater attack, suspicions have arisen that the Ministry may have known the aggression was coming, even days in advance. When asked to comment, Fudge declined." She finished reading with a frustrated whine and tossed the paper onto the table.
It was picked up by a slender, white hand. Draco, fully dressed for the day ahead in slacks and a button down shirt, sat casually in his spot at the head of the table. It was a bit of a shock for Ron and Hermione, who knew nothing of the conversation Harry and Draco had had many nights ago in the drawing room. Ever since then, Draco had come to join them for every meal. Harry just smiled and slid the cereal box towards the blonde.
"Total of Seventeen Casualties in Diagon Alley Death Eater Raid" He read the headline aloud and smirked, filling his bowl absently as his eyes darted over the article beneath the bold script and the picture of the Dark Mark glittering in the sky over Gringotts Bank. It was still there, to this day!
"What are you smiling about?" Ron asked as he stabbed his cereal angrily. It was the only outlet for his upset with this whole 'let's be nice to Malfoy' kick that Hermione and now Harry were suddenly on. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" He jabbed the utensil in his hand at Draco, splashing milk.
Hermione's nose wrinkled and she frowned. "Ron, please, you're making a mess."
Draco smiled serenely as he finished the article and folded the paper back up, setting it down on the table. Milk was added to his cereal as he asked, "you mean, Weasley, do I know anything about it because my parents are Death Eaters?"
"Yeah, that's basically what I'm asking." Ron replied acidly, his eyes narrowed. "If you're having such a difficult time keeping up I can write everything out for you."
"Honestly," Draco replied with a roll of his eyes as he hooked an arm over the back of his chair and leaned into it. "I knew all about the attack months and months before. In fact, I have a calendar hanging up on the roof of my trunk counting off all the days until the big hoorah!" He made a small, explosive gesture with his fingers. "It's the day marked with the evil, sharp toothed smiley-face."
Harry made a slightly disturbed face at this and glanced at Hermione, laughing nervously. He was kidding right?
"So funny I forgot to laugh." Ron complained, partly to spite Harry, and shoved his mouth full of breakfast. "I wonder where my mum went." He muttered, glaring down into his bowl as he chewed. If his mother was here, she wouldn't let Malfoy walk around smiling about a Death Eater attack. Or, at the very least, she'd give him some work to do so he wouldn't have to look at Draco's rat face all morning.
"There's a meeting for the Order today," Draco informed him in a bored tone before he started on his cereal. The look of distaste he got whenever he ate anything at this table had diminished somewhat. Of course, it was pretty difficult to screw up cereal. He would have only himself to blame. "It's a little strange, isn't it? That they go everywhere else to hold their stupid meetings. Isn't this place supposed to be the H.Q.?"
"Oh, right!" Ron seethed anew. It seemed no matter what Draco said or did it brought him one step closer, teetering over the edge into outrage. "And how would you know that they're having a meeting, Malfoy? Huh? What are you, skulking around this house eavesdropping on everyone's conversations? Spying on them? Collecting information for your hooded little friends?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, collecting her cereal bowl and bringing it to the sink to pour the milk out. She couldn't sit here and watch Ron make a fool out of himself.
"I read it on the note she left stuck to your door, nimrod." The blonde replied blandly. "Didn't you see it, Weasel?"
Harry couldn't help himself anymore. At his best friends disgusting lack of detail recognition, he laughed out loud, clapping his hand over his mouth to stop himself when Ron glared at him.
"What's so bloody funny, Harry? You think he's pretty funny huh?" Ron's voice was lifting as he got to his feet. Harry's brows rose slightly as his friend turned on him. "Which part was it? That I'm a nimrod or a weasel? Which part was funniest to you?"
"I wasn't laughing at that, Ron." Harry replied a bit desperately. Ron was really angry. So angry, his face was starting to change colors. This was the last thing he needed, for Ron to be upset with him.
"Right. Sure. Of course not." Ron growled, slamming his hands down on the table. "You and your new chum are really pissing me off!"
Harry's brows furrowed, his gaze narrowing to tiny slivers of green as Ron spoke. "What's the big idea! I can't even laugh anymore without you thinking I'm turning on you! It's not my fault you did something stupid so stop trying to take it out on me!"
"Uh oh." Draco looked from one boy to the other, both of them on their feet with their fists at their sides. "It looks like trouble's brewing in paradise!"
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Both Gryffindors shouted at Draco and then glanced at each other in surprise. The fact that they both shared the same desire to yell at the mouthy blonde soothed their ruffled injustice and slowly the two boys reclaimed their seats.
"Whatever." Ron said briskly, looking away with a noncommital wave of his hand.
"Fine." Harry muttered and lifted his bowl to drink his milk.
"Boys!" Hermione shook her head as she left the kitchen.
Draco ate his cereal.
****
Dear Draco,
Your mother and father would first like to express our fondest, most sincere yule time wishes to you during the holiday season. Your mother is especially disappointed that you have chosen not to return home during your winter break and I have decided to cheer her up with a vacation to the Alps. You know your mother has always enjoyed mountains, especially during a snow storm. However, please pay close attention to your mail as you know your mother cannot let an opportunity to shower you with gifts pass. Be sure to respond to her love with a lengthy letter of thanks.
In regards to the other matters in your letter that you labeled to be most 'pressing', I must say that I am disappointed. Away from my guidance, your plebeian behavior astounds and disgusts me. You are the arms and legs of the Malfoy family every moment you are away from our home, an ambassador, if you will, and even if you aren't aware, there are others who are watching you as an example on how to conduct themselves. You must lead them appropriately in ways that will endear and sway them to your side. I know this is a difficult concept for you to grasp and maneuver so I will spell it out plainly for you so that you can understand.
As I have told you, I will tell you again, and as many times as it is necessary for you to finally comprehend. No matter what your personal feelings may be, it is not wise to appear so adverse to Harry Potter. He is, after all, regarded as the savior of wizard kind, he who saved us all from the shackles of the Dark Lord.
I am sure you remember the speech I gave you repeatedly on the importance of appearances. I will stress this again as once more I see you've left the 's' off of that all important word. It is okay to sneer in private if in public you wear a smile. Do you understand this? I have never thought of you as a dull boy.
Regarding the Chamber of Secrets, the petrification of muggle born and squibs, the heir of Slytherin: keep your head down. These are matters that do not involve you. As my son, you are separate from all of these things. The Chamber of Secrets is nothing but a legend. Whatever is happening to those children, although truly tragic, is none of your concern. Steer clear of this situation, do not relate to it or stick out because of it.
Instead, I suggest you use this opportunity to concentrate on your studies. Although I've been generous enough to give you a racing broom this term, if you cannot improve your grades I will be forced to take it away. I don't believe a Seeker can play games without a broom.
Work hard. Knowing your curious nature this will be difficult. Rest assured, however, that some day, I will tell you everything.
Your father,
Lucius
****
After the members of the Order that stayed at Grimmauld Place over the summer returned home from their meeting, things began to change. None of the children were allowed outside unattended, and even then, not more than a few feet from the house. During the day, but especially at night, there were many more visitors. Because they stayed all night or all day long, Harry surmised they were guards although they moved and changed guarding points too erratically for him to be sure.
Like always, it was difficult to glean any information from any of Grimmauld's guests about just what had been discussed at the meeting, what had happened and decided on, that things at the house had changed so rapidly.
For weeks the front page of the Prophet was a colorful array of terrible stories. A terrible cycle of Death Eater attacks on wizarding communities, buildings, and on authorities, counting the body toll, repair, and the next attack. It went on and on, day in and day out, and well into the balmy, days of August.
Fear and terror was widespread as those who had survived Voldemort's first reign of power recalled similar events and details. Terrible murders and terrible violence they had thought long since over and healed, were returning to them with full bloody force. For those that had been born since Voldemort's defeat, the terrors were new. Terrible nightmares and stories brought into reality. Their questions were asked, fears expressed, with round, wide eyes and trembling fingers and answered in the same way.
It was terrible to the point that Harry could no longer stand to read the paper. He didn't want to hear about how people were suffering, living in fear. Most importantly, he avoided the editorials. At least every day one or two people wrote to the editor complaining about him. Where was Harry Potter? They asked, as if they expected him to swoop in and save them all.
At breakfast one morning when Mr. Weasley sat down to join them, he had something to say. Mrs. Weasley had been nervous all morning. She'd bustled about in the kitchen and rambled at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco about school and N.E.W.T.S, which they would have next year, before she left, without eating anything, to go back upstairs. "Molly and I are going to go into London today," Arthur explained as he cut up a banana, dropping round slices on top of his cereal. "Your sister's coming back a bit early from her trip because of everything that's been going on. Last night, the town she was staying in was attacked by Death Eaters."
"What?" Harry couldn't hide the alarm from his voice. Hermione gasped out loud, slapping her hands over her mouth. She glanced nervously at Ron who had stopped reading the comics in the Prophet and was now staring at his father.
"Don't worry, don't worry," Arthur added quickly with a gentling motion of his hands, patting down the tense air. "She's okay, she wasn't hurt, but still, she's coming home."
"Well I'd say!" Ron finally announced, his eyes narrowing as he flipped the paper over to the front page. Today, the Death Eaters had moved into muggle cities. That meant the place this morning's article was talking about was probably the same American muggle city that his sister had gone to. "I knew she shouldn't have gone. I had a bad feeling about it."
"Well, your mother and I are going to collect her today. We'll be gone for a while, the four of you should stay here. Your mother wants you to start cleaning your bedrooms, start getting ready for school. If you need anything, Lupin and Professor Snape are in the basement, but try not to bother them."
No one really needed to ask why Professor Snape and Lupin were in the basement at this particular moment. The full moon had been marked in red on every calendar and was swiftly approaching.
"Can't we go with you?" Ron asked, turning towards his father with an intense look in his eyes. Ginny was the only other Weasley child left besides himself, and the only girl in their family as well. He wanted to be there when she arrived. He had to make sure she was well taken care of. He had to make sure she really wasn't hurt. "Or I can at least?"
"Eh..." Mr. Weasley looked at his son to his breakfast and back again. "I'll talk to your mother, Ron, but you know how she can be at times like this."
"I'm going." Ron announced in a firm tone and got up, tossing his bowl into the sink and leaving the kitchen. "I'll go get ready right now!" There was no way, Harry knew as he watched Ron dart up the stairs, that he was going to get left behind.
"When will you be back?" Draco asked, watching Mr. Weasley over the lip of his tea cup. He had been so quiet up until that point, Harry had forgotten that Draco was even there this morning.
"What? Uh..." Arthur looked a little confused as he addressed Draco's question. The blonde had been staying there for over two months now and this was the first thing he'd ever said to him. "Well, by dinner time for sure. Although maybe," And here he looked towards Hermione and Harry "maybe the two of you can make something for dinner? I'm sure Molly–"
"Of course." Hermione interjected. "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, Harry and I will take care of everything." Mrs. Weasley should be able to spend time with her daughter instead of losing herself in the kitchen making dinner for them.
Arthur smiled as he finished his cereal and prepared to leave the kitchen, picking up the Prophet since everyone seemed to be done with it. "Thank you, Hermione. We really appreciate this." She smiled at him. "I'll see you later," addressing the group as a whole, Mr. Weasley left the kitchen to collect his wife and son.
Although Harry and Hermione were able to finish their breakfasts in time to see the three family members off to collect the fourth, Draco alone seemed to possess the ability to make the same cup of tea last until the trio of red hair had completely driven away.
When the two Gryffindors sat down at the kitchen table with a cook book, Draco excused himself, leaving his dishes on the table before disappearing upstairs.
"He's acting weird, isn't he?" Hermione asked, looking from over the top of the book to her friend. "He's hardly snarked at anyone since this whole Death Eater thing."
In return, Harry blinked and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Hermione. He's probably just trying to not be involved. It would be too easy for people to jump to conclusions about him if he acted either too happy or two upset by everything in the paper. Especially with Ron, you know how he is. He's just waiting for an opportunity to catch Draco in the act of doing something he shouldn't."
"He still thinks Draco's a cohort of the Dark Lord, huh?" Hermione rolled her eyes with a sigh and turned the page. "I don't know where he gets his ammunition from. I think Draco's making a genuine effort, more or less, to settle in."
Harry thought about that, looking over at Hermione with a warm smile. He was glad she was on his side with the whole Malfoy situation. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand it if everyone in the Prophet, plus his two best friends, were against him. "I think he is too. He told me one night that he was ready to make a change. If he was ever going to be a Death Eater, I don't think that's what he'll choose now."
"Well I don't see how he could." Hermione agreed before a curious knit tugged on her brows. "What do you mean he told you? When was this?"
"Weeks ago." Harry brushed it off.
"Well where were Ron and I?" How long had Harry been sneaking off doing important things like this without them? Ron's opinion of Draco may have been seriously altered if he had been there for the conversation Harry was referring to.
Harry smirked, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "Snogging."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she looked for salvation in the pages of the book. "Oh," She said quickly.
Thankfully, Hermione was spared from any furthering of the conversation as Draco walked past them towards the drawing room. What made it peculiar was the fact that he was wearing his robes, like he was planning on going out somewhere. The two friends looked at each other, eyebrows raised, before they set the book down and followed him.
"Hey Draco!" Harry called, and the blonde paused in the doorway to the drawing room looking back at them. "Where are you going?"
"No where." He replied with a cat-like smile before disappearing into the room.
"Hey! Hey, hey!" Naturally they followed, Hermione already scolding. "We're not allowed to go anywhere, Draco, you can't just–" But as soon as they poked their head into the drawing room it was already too late. The flames in the large, monstrous fireplace were already burning bright emerald, Draco among them.
"Malfoy!" Harry glared.
"Diagon Alley!" Draco replied with a smirk and in an instant he was gone.
****
Lucius Malfoy had been more than a bit startled to have anyone come bursting into his cell at this time of day in Azkaban Fortress. Let alone four someones. It was true he was monitored, he knew he had to be, but really the only time someone actually came into his cell was very early in the morning, which had already happened, and very late at night, which was still hours and hours away!
The proud man lifted his head as his room was suddenly flooded by a handful of people. "Lucius Malfoy," a strangely familiar voice said although he wasn't able to put his finger on just who it was.
"W-what?" He asked blurrily, his throat and lips dry. He couldn't make out just who his visitors were, their shapes were too dark. They melted in perfectly with the shadows around him. As they came closer and laced their arms through his, hefting him to his feet, he began to understand.
A hand, the only bit of skin he could make out on the cloaked figures, grabbed his wrist and pushed the sleeves of his robes up over his forearm revealing the snake entwined skull on his pale skin, surrounded by poorly healing cuts and gouges. "My, my," the one that was holding his wrist examined the brand, scraping a finger nail over the abused skin. "Trying to tear it off are you, Lucius?"
The blonde winced, trying to jerk his arm away but the other held him firmly, tearing up already formed scabs. "You should know it's useless by now to free yourself from your destiny." Lucius couldn't help but whimper in pain as a scab was pulled off, bits of freshly formed skin with it. The figure that held him laughed when blood began to well up and drip slowly towards the ground. "It's him." He announced and tossed Lucius arm down. Turning, the figures began to file out, the one who had spoke gesturing. "Bring him."
"What? No!" Lucius' eyes went wide and he pushed his heels into the slick, stone floor. "I don't want to go! You can't make me go, please! I'm useless! I'm completely useless to Him now!" He made futile attempts to wriggle away, to grab the frame of his cell door as he was pulled out of it. "I'm completely useless!"
"You always were." The lead Death Eater snarled and lifted his wand, jabbing it against Lucius' forehead. He hardly had time to realize what was going on before a spell was cast. "Stupefy!" When their captive's body jerked with the force of the point black spell and then slumped unconscious, he was dragged through the smokey, rubble-cluttered hallways of Azkaban Fortress.
When Lucius Malfoy woke again it was with a searing pain in his arm so intense he wouldn't be surprised if all of his flesh had been completely torn off the bone. His holler, as he clutched his branded arm to his chest, accompanied with his writing in the dirt brought many smiles and a few chuckles from the ring of black cloaked figures that circled him. "Your pathetic, worm-like wiggling suits you well, Lucius."
The blonde groaned as the pain persisted for seconds longer before slowly abating to a dull ache. His fingers twitching against his stomach, he curled up into a ball on the ground. His tears mingled with tortured sweat that ran in rivulets down his face and into his clothes. "M-My Lord.." He heard himself stammer as he slowly unfolded himself, pushing himself up.
Lucius got only as far as his hands and knees before Voldemort made a gesture with his fingers. From behind, a foot caught the back of Lucius' head, pushing him back down into the dirt, a heel grinding into his neck.
"You've betrayed me for the last time, Lucius."
Lucius felt the foot on the back of his head draw back as he was once again grabbed beneath the arms. His body was twisted upwards onto his knees, boots pressing his calves into the ground. A hand curled through his blonde hair to hold his head steady.
"You know well the punishment for those who betray me. You've seen it many times." From the circle, Lucius watched with mind-splitting horror as Voldemort stepped forward. His scaly, gray hand with its yellow nails curled tightly around his wand.
Dread welled up in the back of his throat but when Lucius tried to even fidget, the hold the other Death Eater's had on him tightened. Trembling, the reason the sun rose every morning heard himself moan out a sob. "Please don't kill me! Please don't kill me." He begged. "I have been loyal to you! To the very end I've been loyal. I've served you for years! For over half my life I've loyally served you my lord! I've done everything you've ever asked of me!"
"You've done everything I've ever asked of you." Voldemort repeated and although his voice was soft and patient, Lucius knew otherwise. "You haven't done anything I've asked you to, Lucius. You've made many sorrowful attempts but every one of them have failed pathetically. Wormtail is more suiting a servant to me than you are."
"That's not true!" Lucius' eyes were round with fear as Voldemort's wand was lifted.
"Are you saying that I'm lying?"
The conversation had taken a dangerous turn and Lucius tried to shake his head 'no' but whoever was holding his hair cruelly forced him to nod. "No!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, despite the gesture his head was making. "My lord, I would never!"
He could feel the tip of Voldemort's wand, burning hot and inches from his skin as it moved slowly over his face. "You've tried to rid yourself of me." The Dark Lord continued. "After Potter's interference you turned your back on me, like many of the other cowards, few of which are in our presence now. "
"I had good reason, my lord! To prepare the way for your return!"
"I have heard all of this before, Lucius. By now the excuse has worn thin." Voldemort's wand was drawn back. From his stretched position all Lucius could see of it was the glowing red end as it swam upwards through the darkness.
"I-I-I-" He stammered, his mind whirring through all the possibilities of things he could say to placate his master's wand.
"Avada K-" when the cold whisper of the spell began, Lucius shouted the very last option that his mind had settled on. Although it was feeble, it was the most promising.
"My son!" He hollered out loud, his voice breaking with desperation. He closed his eyes, waiting for the Dark Lord's previous spell to be finished, to strike him in the chest and to kill him.
But it never came.
"Your son?" Voldemort asked, his wand frozen in mid spell, crackling venomously with poisonous magic.
"My son!" Lucius said again, this time dread replaced by relief. "Yes my son! My little boy Draco!" Overjoyed at the possibility of having spared his own life, he babbled, "Yes! I've been raising him for you, My Lord! To be your tool. Since he was a child I have instructed him carefully, taught him necessities, so that some day, so that today! So that today he could join your side. I've crafted him as the perfect weapon for you, My Lord!"
"Is that a fact?"
Someone that was holding Lucius up didn't seem to take too kindly to this sudden turn of conversation. The hand in his hair tightened to the point that it began to tear. Lucius' eyes turned wet, but he forced himself not to look away from Voldemort.
"Yes, My Lord!" Lucius whimpered. "He will serve you! He will serve you well! It is the finest gift that I could ever give you. My one and only son. My own flesh and blood."
Voldemort seemed to be weighing this as he looked down at the trembling, tortured pureblood at his feet. After what seemed like an eternity, he stepped away, waving his hand at the knot of Death Eaters responsible for holding Lucius down. "Release him. Take care of him, give him a wand, but keep careful watch. He isn't free of his nightmares yet."
"Thank you, My Lord!" Lucius cried as he was tossed forward onto the ground by those that had been holding him. He was more than happy to press his face into the dirt as the Dark Lord left the ring of his followers. "Thank you! Thank you!"
"Let us hope your son isn't nearly as big a disappointment as you are, Lucius."
****
Draco was rather proud of himself by the time he returned to 12 Grimmauld Place. Even though it was well after dinner time, he didn't seem concerned at the possibility that others had been worried about him. He was carrying several bags with him as he stepped out of the flames of the drawing room fireplace and into the hands of a room full of very angry witches and wizards. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Remus Lupin, Professor Snape, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny Weasley had all gathered, and were waiting for him.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" Shrieked Mrs. Weasley, already on her feet and marching towards him. "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG WE'VE BEEN SITTING HERE WORRYING ABOUT YOU? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ATTACKED! WORSE YET, KILLED! BUT DID YOU EVEN STOP TO THINK ABOUT THAT BEFORE RUNNING OFF LIKE ONE OF MY IDIOT SONS?"
"Hey!" Ron protested but was quickly quelled when his mother cast him a sharp look.
Mrs. Weasley had noted the way that Draco's face had moved from shock, to anger, to rage as she yelled at him but before he got a chance to open his mouth, Snape lifted a pale hand, gesturing to him. "Not wise, Mister Malfoy."
Draco was quiet for a moment, glaring at them before he held up his bags. "I needed to get my school things!" He announced in a biting tone. "It's none of your business where I go anyway! It's not like you're my parents that you can order me around! You disgusting, vi-"
"Malfoy!" Ginny interjected, already getting to her feet. "Don't you say another word about my mother or I'll end you!"
Draco glanced over at her in shock, scoffed, but at the same time looked a little nervous as he settled down. He'd never seen such murderous intent from the littlest Weasley before. "Like you could, really!" He huffed.
"You shouldn't have left like that." Harry protested, although he remained in his seat. "I told you you shouldn't leave but you did anyway."
"Like I care what you'd–" Draco let his voice trail off. There was something odd in the air, past the furious worry of him having disappeared for an entire day. It was as if something else had happened but no one wanted to say it. It made his stomach twist. "What? What happened?"
Lupin sighed and pushed himself up wearily from his chair. He held out a folded copy of the Evening Prophet towards him. Draco set his bags of school things down and took it from him, brows furrowed. "What?"
"Read the front page." Mr. Weasley suggested.
Draco turned the paper over to the headline and instantly felt all of the blood drain from his face. He had to read it again just to be sure it said what he thought it did, his fingers shaking as they gripped the paper's edge. Then he just stared at it, reading the headline over and over, his mouth moving silently. His head buzzed, filled with dizzy thoughts. Finally, aloud, he said "Azkaban Fortress Raided, Lucius Malfoy At Large."
-----------------
**Authors Note**
I wanted to take the time now, about halfway through "Sold!" to say a few thanks. First of all, I want to publically recognize my favorite Beta, Choco, who always takes care of me and encourages me to write the next chapter.
Of course, I also wanted to thank all of you who have replied to my paultry attempt at fan fiction. This is the first chapter fic I've ever officially posted on a site like this and to have all of your support really means a lot to me!
Please continue to support me and read my fic until the very end! Someday, someday I swear there will be some H/D (like, the next chapter for sure)