I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER
this is my first fanfic so please BE NICE WHEN YOU REVIEW XP

SLASH AHEAD:: if you don't like... leave!

Chapter 2: Serpent Celebrations
"Happy Birthday, Draco," the man said to himself, staring into a bowl of soup that had been sitting in front of him for well over an hour. His beaten reflection peered up at him, dark circles under his eyes, long blonde hair hanging over his face, and a pale complexion, more pale than usual. He stuck his spoon into the cold substance and swirled it around, distorting his image and not eating any of the soup. He wasn't hungry. He never was anymore and his thin form, losing most of it's muscle over the years, was a direct hint at his lack of appetite.

Turning twenty-two should have been a big deal to Draco, but it wasn't. It was like every other birthday, and day for that matter, since he had turned seventeen. Boring, lonesome, and not fun. His whole life wasn't like that, some parts of it were actually enjoyable. But it was five years ago, to this day, Draco's life had made the turn around from okay to just plain awful.

It had been kept a secret, thanks to Dumbledore, that Draco wasn't a Death Eater like everyone assumed him to be. But he had known, ever since he was a child, he didn't want to be anything like his drunken, abusive, father. And since it was Draco's choice when he would join the Death Eaters, if he ever did, Lucius never was suspicious of Draco's loyalty to the Malfoy family.

When Draco had heard rumors, in his fifth year, that Dumbledore had an army ready to face Voldemort, he wanted to be a part of it. Dumbledore, God bless the man, had done everything to protect Draco, all the while allowing him a part of the Order, even though he was so young. Dumbledore saw something in the boy, a mature man inside a young one's body. He knew the struggles Draco had overcome, what with Lucius and all, and he felt that the boy could handle just about anything thrown at him.

Draco played the next two years out as a spy of sorts for Dumbledore, telling the man anything and everything he could about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Everything was done so well, that no one caught on, and Draco was still the 'normal evil Slytherin git' everyone knew him to be. Until, his seventh year, the day he turned seventeen, the day that Hogwarts was attacked.

He had appeared in Dumbledore's room, not following his fellow Slytherin's when they all got the call from Voldemort. You could say that many of the people, save the professors, were shocked to see him there, and some, including Harry Potter and his friends, didn't trust him. They thought him to be a spy for Voldemort, and voiced their thoughts openly to Dumbledore. He reassured them that "Mr. Malfoy has been on our side since he came to Hogwarts, and he was here to help the side of the light, not the dark." Though, Dumbledore was well respected in Harry's eyes, the boy, and his friends, didn't believe him, and still scowled at Draco.

The fight was horrendous and Draco wasn't prepared for the battle he witnessed. People fell around him, some by response to his own wand, and one of those fallen bodies was none other than his own father. But in the end, when Voldemort had been defeated, it seemed worth it, and Draco was glad he was on the side of good... until he realized what that meant for him.

Instantly, he was rejected by his Slytherin "friends", which wasn't all that bad in his eyes, as he didn't like them in the first place. His mother had more or less, disowned him, and she went crazy and was sent to St. Mungo's soon after, not able to handle the death of Lucius. The people on the good side, the people Draco felt he could make friends with, barely trusted him, still. And the people who would have, Hermione Granger, Draco felt, being one of them, had been sacrificed in the war. Other than Dumbledore, and the elder members of the Order, Draco had been alone.

When he left Hogwarts, in order to keep his mind off his loneliness, and to survive in any way possible, Draco had immediately begun a post at the Ministry, under Dumbledore's orders, as a representative for the Order. Even though Voldemort had been defeated, that didn't mean other Dark Wizards wouldn't rise, and the Order was now a part of the Ministry, in order to help protect the wizarding world from harm. Though, there had been no rumors since the war of any Dark action, and Draco, more or less, had just become an errand boy for Dumbledore. Though, the Ministry still paid him well, so he couldn't complain, really. Within a year he had earned enough money to buy himself a tiny wizard home on the outskirts of London, just big enough for he and his eagle owl, Evanesco. And he had lived there ever since , four years in the same place, same job, same boring life.

And every birthday, Draco would experienced the same loneliness. Dumbledore, and usually Professor Snape, would send him a birthday card, and some sort of tiny present, but other than that, nothing. No visits, no owls, nothing. And this, is why Draco was sitting alone at his kitchen table, staring at himself in a bowl of soup.

Until a tap came upon his window and a familiar bird flew through.

"Hello Fawkes," Draco spoke monotonously to Dumbledore's faithful phoenix. The bird dropped an envelope into Draco's palms and dipped it's beak towards the bowl, giving a gentle caw as to ask permission.

"Go ahead," Draco said in the same tone, "All yours." The bird dipped it's head into the bowl and began sipping the soup quietly as Draco opened the letter.

Mr. Malfoy,
Hello my boy, I am glad to hear that your last owl finds you well. It is my apologies that I have to do this on your birthday, but I have another favor to ask of you.

Of course, Draco thought, master wishes for me to do another one of his petty servant jobs. Draco rolled his eyes and continued the letter.

It has come to our, the members of the Order and myself, attention that Mr. Potter is not fairing too well.

St. Potter, Draco thought miserably, It's always about St. Harry fucking Potter. Even though he had "joined forces" with Harry, he still had childish resentment to the boy, though the immense hatred was gone, long gone. He rolled his eyes again and finished reading.

Many of us are worried about the man, and we have tried to get him back to the boy he once was. But he isn't responding to our letters anymore, and we need to take brute force. That is why I am sending you, my faithful boy, to go to Godric's Hollow and retrieve him for me, bringing him back to Hogwarts.

Draco nearly collapsed upon the floor at Dumbledore's request. Me... spending time with... Potter? But Draco was a mature adult, sort of. And he could complete the task without resorting to childish ways of the past. Maybe. Draco scoffed as he quickly scanned the rest of the letter, which was just Dumbledore prattling on about his time spent in Romania, and threw it into the fire that was roaring across from the kitchen table. He paced the room for a bit, noticing Fawkes was there still, probably waiting for a reply.

So Draco went to the desk in the hall and retrieved a few sheets of parchment and a quill, sitting down back at the kitchen table to write his reply to Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore,
It will be my pleasure to bring Potter Mr. Potter to you at Hogwarts. I will leave tomorrow morning and have him to you, hopefully, by tomorrow evening, before dinner, possibly. I am glad to hear you had a nice time in Romania, and I am sorry to hear about the burns that you received from the dragon. I'm sure Poppy will take wonderful care of you, sir.

I will owl Mr. Potter and let him know to pack his things, so he will be ready for me.

Send the members of the Order my hello.

Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy.

Pleased with his letter, filled with the utmost bullshit Draco could possibly think of, he folded it, and placed it inside an envelope. Fawkes instantly took it and Draco patted the bird on his head, "Later Fawkes," he said as the bird flew through the still open window.

Draco sighed, looking down upon the other sheet of parchment, knowing his letter to Potter was to be next. He tapped his quill on the table, thinking of how to start the letter. How did one write a letter to one's childhood enemy? Draco sighed again and placed the quill to the paper.

Potter,
It is under strict orders from Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the Order that I am to pick you up tomorrow at Godric's Hollow and bring you back to Hogwarts to Dumbledore. You are to pack your things and be ready for me. I shall be there in the morning, say, nine. Please be ready, as I have many things to do.

Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy

Another letter full of bullshit. Draco had nothing to do. Ever. He just thought it sounded good, and hoped that Potter would respond to the information and be ready for Draco when he arrived.

He folded the letter and called Evanesco into the room. The owl landed firmly on the table, pleased to be called for a mission. He stuck his chest out arrogantly and waited for Draco to tie the letter to his leg.

"Off you go you arrogant, prat." Draco muttered as the owl flew out the window.

And Draco was alone again.

"Suppose it's up to bed so I can be well rested for tomorrow's hellish deeds," he spoke sarcastically, and to the empty house none the less. He sighed again and walked upstairs to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Thank you to the people who have reviewed!!! I feel so loved. Sorry this wasn't up sooner but was being difficult and I couldn't publish. Chapter 3 on it's way...lalala