"'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous; … all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices." (Lord Byron, Don Juan canto V, st. 27)
Sunlight was dancing on the leaves of the Forbidden Forest and made the old gnarled trees look almost inviting as Eleanor apparated outside the magical wards of Hogwarts. In the distance she could see Hagrit's hut with a wisp of smoke escaping from its tall chimney. It seemed the Care of Magical Creatures teacher was busy cooking dinner.
Now at the height of summer it was still light so far in the north, even this late, but if she wanted to make her meeting with the headmaster, she had to hurry. She cast one last glance behind her into the forest and set out for the old grey ramparts of the castle.
The tall wooden gate of the school was closed, but as she rang the bell, the scruffy, gaunt form of Mr. Filch appeared, Mrs. Norris in tow, and he let her in. "Professor Sartorius," he said. "Haven't seen you in a long time. The headmaster is already waiting for you. Go right along. The password for the steps is 'ginger snaps'." She thanked the janitor and walked down the now deserted familiar corridors and up the spiral staircase leading up to Dumbledore's office.
Golden sunlight filled the tall oval room and she found the old wizard sitting in a deep comfortable chair by the unlit fireplace sipping tea and deep in conversation with Professor Snape, who was dressed in his customary long black robes, despite the warm summer weather. The two men got up to greet her, and Snape pulled up another chair. Dumbledore poured her some tea and offered his customary sweet treats, which she refused. She didn't feel her negotiations would be improved by having to talk around a large glob of extra sticky honey toffee cementing her teeth.
Snape also declined the toffee, and Dumbledore helped himself. "So, Eleanor, you owled me that you wanted to see me to discuss an important matter. How can I help you?" She licked her lips. She dreaded this part of the conversation above all else. "Well, I am here because I would like to make a proposal with the regards to the recent arrest of Mr. Malfoy." There, now she'd said it. She regarded both men warily, and while Snape had sat up very straight at her words, Dumbledore hadn't moved a muscle. His expression was unreadable to her.
Finally he swallowed his toffee and spoke. "Hm, Lucius Malfoy. So even after six years you are still tied up with the man. Must be fate." She folded her hands, feeling nervous. "You made my fate, Albus," she replied, forcing calm into her voice. "You put me in his path. You used us both to prevent the rising of Voldemort the first time round. Fate served you well then." He nodded, remembering the events six years ago. "But now Voldemort has risen. Lucius Malfoy stands accused as a Death Eater, he has attacked students of this school, and a man got killed. Things have changed quite a bit, haven't they?"
She nodded reluctantly. "For you and for him, yes. But not for me." Dumbledore still didn't show much of a reaction, but now his blue eyes seemed to look right through her. "What would you have me do?" he asked, his voice neutral. "You are the chief judge of the wizengamot in his upcoming trial," she said. "How will you judge?"
The old wizard stroked his hand over his beard. "That, Eleanor, is none of your concern." She took a deep breath. "I would like to concern myself with it, nonetheless. And I have something that may make it our shared concern."
Dumbledore nodded. "You want to bribe me. He has rubbed off on you quite a bit, hasn't he? I am truly sorry to see that. And I do feel responsible after a fashion." He paused, giving her an appraising look. "Do you think you can bribe me?"
Eleanor felt blood rise to her cheeks with shame. She had never thought she would be having this conversation with a man like the headmaster of Hogwarts. Still, she had come here for a purpose and she intended to stick to her guns.
"As you remarked earlier, Voldemort has risen again, and people are dying. I have something that will tip the scales in your favor and protect those that are entrusted to you. I am still not working for the Dark Lord, and I would sincerely hope that what I know can be used against him. If you want to call it a bribe so be it. But I propose to do you a favor and would ask for some leniency in return."
Dumbledore reached for another toffee, seemingly unperturbed by the conversation. "What do you have to offer," he asked calmly. Eleanor got up and smoothed down her robes. "Perhaps Professor Snape would care to assist me?" she suggested. The potions master had followed the exchange with a scowl of disapproval and now opened his mouth to protest, but the old wizard held out his hand. "Why not? Severus, if you would be so kind."
Snape huffed, but got up and faced her. His dark eyes bored into her, and she was sure that if it weren't for the headmaster, he would offer her a rather large and unpleasant piece of his mind. She walked a few paces away from him and unsheathed her wand. "I would like for you to cast an unforgivable at me, Severus. Which one is up to you."
She got some grim satisfaction out of watching the potions master take a surprised step back. His mouth twisted in a sneer. "What is this? Are you trying to get a cell-mate for Lucius?" he asked. She bit her lip. "I could think of more cheerful company," she replied. "No, I really need you to cast a curse for what I'm about to show you. I promise you, nothing will happen."
Snape looked back at Dumbledore, who simply shrugged his shoulders. "Why not, Severus, humor her," he said. The professor faced her again, his face grim. "You are sure about this?" he asked, looking actually a bit concerned. Eleanor nodded. "As sure as I've ever been of anything, Severus. Hit me." She watched Snape pull out his wand, and was hardly surprised when he incanted. "Imperio!" Of the three unforgivables, it was the least damaging spell.
A moment later she observed the exchange from a spot 10 feet above the floor standing on tiptoe on one of the girders that adorned the high vaulted ceiling of the office. Severus was staring intently at a slender, red-headed grey-clad imago that faced him four steps apart, wand at the ready. She watched the spell play out, and as soon as the aftereffects had faded, she switched back. Snape was staring at her. "Hop on one foot," he commanded her. "And enumerate the geomantic figures backwards."
She gave him a broad smile. "I think not," she said cheerfully and watched Snape's jaw drop in a look of complete und utter astonishment. He compressed his lips and lifted his wand again. "Imperio!" he shouted, really meaning it this time. She had to hurry rather quickly this time to get out of the way. However, as the potions master reiterated his command, he found the results were exactly the same. He turned halfway back towards Dumbledore, staring at his wand, as if he expected it to be broken or otherwise damaged. "What in Merlin's name…?"
Eleanor smiled. Her relentless practice over the past few weeks had paid off. "Give me a cruciatus, Severus," she demanded. This time her former colleague needed much more persuasion. When he eventually consented, he looked faintly sick. She faced him and relaxed her body. "Gods," he murmured, disgust coloring his voice. "Crucio!" She performed the switch with routine speed, noticing that Snape had cast a rather weak and very short spell. She was glad to see that despite her attempts at bribery, he wasn't too intent on hurting her.
Back in her old position and displaying no signs of pain and discomfort she actually noticed a brief look of relief on the potions master's face before he stepped up to her. "What are you doing? How…? Why…?" He put a hand on her wand. "This is impossible!"
She looked at him. "No it's not. Want to try the killing curse next?" Snape shook his head. "No. Sorry. You'll probably survive that as well, but I really don't want to find out for sure." He looked stubbornly determined right now, and Eleanor knew him well enough to be certain that no argument would sway him.
She turned towards the headmaster. "Well, Albus, this is my offer. Defense against the unforgivables, including the killing curse." She was pleased to notice that Dumbledore had finally snapped out of his apparent apathetic calm and sat on the edge of his seat watching her. He looked decidedly interested. "You would not allow me to examine your wand, now, would you?" he asked.
Eleanor smiled and returned to her seat. "Hardly," she said. Dumbledore leaned back. "What do you want for this?" he said quietly. His eyes shone with a strange light she had never seen in them before, and she realized with a jolt that the old wizard was fighting very hard to repress an almighty fury. She understood that his previous calm had come from his decision to hear her out, but to enter into no deal with her. Now, however, she had made him consider her bribe, and he hated himself and her for it.
Eleanor felt a great sadness well up inside her. She had always liked and admired the headmaster, and had it been up to her, she would have willingly shared what she knew with him for free. But when she thought back to the despair she had felt when she had seen Lucius in Azkaban, she knew she had no other choice. She would not willingly abandon her lover to imprisonment or death.
She was disgusted with herself for making Dumbledore stoop to being bought like this. But she knew at that moment that she had won. The stakes were too high, even for him, to let personal pride get in the way of defeating their arch-enemy. For a moment she considered, watching absentmindedly as Snape returned to his seat. "I want a judgment of exile for Lucius Malfoy," she finally said.
Both men regarded her with lifted eyebrows. Then Dumbledore gave her a curt nod. "You surprise me," he said. "You give up a lot for very little in return." She shook her head. "No I am not. Regardless of the outcome of the trial, I ultimately want you to know what I know in order to fight Voldemort, the murderer of my kin. Despite what you think of me, I wish for you to succeed in your struggle. But I don't want to see Lucius executed or imprisoned for life." The headmaster nodded. "I might have judged like you wish me to anyway," he said. "Or do you think that I want the blood of another man on my hands?"
She sighed. "I need to be sure," she confessed. "Others may want him dead. He has done terrible things." Dumbledore looked at her intently. "And do you forgive him for it? Knowing what you know?" She suddenly found herself unable to meet his gaze. "Yes," she said quietly. "For what he has done for me. For what he means to me."
The old wizard leaned forward. "Why?" he asked. His voice seemed gentle now, as if his anger had passed through him and been simply discarded. She dared to look up again and took a deep breath. "Because I love him," she said slowly, surprising herself at the absolute sense of truth and certainty she felt as she uttered the words she had never spoken before. She heard Snape by her side snort in disgust, but the headmaster looked at her with understanding and concern.
"Perhaps fate is having more of a hand in this than I ever imagined," he said. "I will judge as you wish, not because of what you offer, but because you told me the truth." He got up and stood before her. "When will you tell me how you defend yourself?" he asked. She rose to meet him. "When the judgment has been spoken. I will send word to you, or I will tell you in person, however you prefer." Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, Eleanor. I accept your offer and I will give you what you desire. Now go." She bowed to him, not trusting him to shake her hand if she offered it.
On her way out she briefly paused before Snape. "I have a request to make of you as well. Not for myself this time. I believe Draco to be in danger because of the confession Lucius was forced to make in prison. Lucius is convinced that Voldemort will seek revenge and threaten his family. You are Draco's head of house. Please keep him safe. He has no part in his father's crimes. He should not be made to suffer for them." Snape regarded her gravely, then nodded. "I will see to it," he promised.
Eleanor walked away from the castle back towards the forest, fighting down the nauseating self-loathing she felt at having succeeded in buying the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, after a fashion. She took no pride in having secured Albus Dumbledore's promise of judging in Lucius Malfoy's favor. When she had passed beyond the apparition wards that surrounded Hogwarts she spoke a quick spell and materialized outside the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for her next appointment.
As she looked around she paused in astonishment. The place was crowded with wizards and witches in festive robes and flower crowns on their heads. Lights hung everywhere, in the trees and from the fronts of the houses. Enchanted fireflies buzzed up and down the narrow streets. Then she remembered: of course, it was the 21st of June, Litha, Midsummer.
She made her way through the throngs of revelers, avoiding dancers and tipsy couples, until she had passed through the pub and stood on the back porch overlooking a small enclosed beer garden behind the house. People sat on benches in small groups, talking, listening to a harp, drum and crumhorn band and drinking Madam Rosmerta's special Midsummer mead. A moment later she saw him. He sat by himself in a corner, and stared into a frothy mug of butterbeer. He had not noticed her yet, and she took a moment to study him.
He had grown since she'd last met him about a year ago at the manor. Now at fifteen he was as tall as his father, and he had begun to grow his white-blond hair out, which already reached to his shoulders. It was neatly tied back with a narrow velvet band, further accentuating the family resemblance. He wore his dark green velvet robes with the same air of negligent elegance that she knew so well from the elder Malfoy.
"Draco," she said quietly as she approached him, and he looked up. His lips curled in an angry sneer. "Oh, father's bit of ass on the side," he drawled. "My Midsummer date. Am I pleased to see you!" She sighed, having expected a welcome very much like this. During their last encounter Lucius had actually seen fit to chastise his son before her eyes for his insolent behavior. She had secretly sympathized with Draco. If the boy had any feelings of love or loyalty towards his mother he had every right to resent her.
Still, she was too tired and her errant too urgent to let her try and humor the teenager's attitude. She sat down opposite him. "Yeah, look who's talking," she said coldly. "The arrested Death Eater's son." Draco drew himself up for a reply, but she waved her hand. "Let's cut the pleasantries. You're upset about your father and me, that's your prerogative as your mother's son, but before you get wrapped up in your righteous indignation, go and look up Mr. Hubertus Yarrow. You remember him? Your tutor before you went to Hogwarts? He runs a prep-school for young wizards in Hampshire these days. Ask him what he did with your mother once he was finished with your lessons for the day. You know he was so upset when she broke up with him, he may actually tell you all the juicy details."
"How dare you, you…" Draco turned white with fury. Eleanor sighed and put her hand on her wand in warning. "Let's not call each other names, okay. There is no dare involved. I just told you. Your parents have had an open marriage for many years now. In just a little over a year you will be of age, so get a grip and face the facts. Once you are handfasted yourself you have a chance to do it all differently and much better."
The younger Malfoy sat back, hatred in his grey eyes, but he kept quiet. Eleanor removed her fingers from her wand and pulled out the article Lucius had given her as she had left his cell in Azkaban. She held it out so it caught the light from the torches and heard Draco gasp in surprise. "My father's signet ring! The Malfoy crest. You really saw him?"
Eleanor handed the ring to him, considered for a moment, and decided to drop any barriers and pretense and give Lucius' message to his son as best she could. "Have you learned legilimency yet?" she asked. Draco laughed. "Not from my incompetent teachers, thanks to our idiotic headmaster, but my father taught me." She sighed. "Very well, I have no intention of entertaining you with tales that you'll probably only half believe anyway. I'm ready. Help yourself."
Draco lifted his left eyebrow in a manner that reminded her very much of Lucius. "Are you serious?" he asked. She sighed. "Look young man, so far I have had a week from hell, I'm forced to work with a couple of lawyers who would sell their grandmothers for a fee and mooch chocolate cake off me, I've got propositioned by a vampire, spent half a day in a lice-infested tristitia-hexed cell in Azkaban and nearly got assaulted by Auror Moody. Now I've just had a cheerful meeting with your headmaster and your potions professor, I'm still reeling from an earful of insults from a snooty fifteen-year-old, it's late, I'm tired and I'm sick of playing games. I promised your father I'd meet with you and give you a message from him. So I suggest you get on with it."
The young wizard nodded, caught her eyes and murmured: "Legilimens." She returned his gaze, shielded her mind from him with the exception of her memories of the prison visit and let him read her. He used more force than was necessary, but despite a certain degree of inexperience and clumsiness she felt the keen mental powers he possessed. He was good at mind control, his father had taught him well, and with the appropriate schooling he would go far.
A few minutes later Draco lowered his lids and released the connection. His voice trembled when he spoke to her. "He said that?" he asked quietly. "Said what?" she asked. He stammered now. "Th-that he, that he loved me?" Eleanor nodded. "Yeah, he seemed as embarrassed about it as you are now. I guess you guys don't talk about that much, hm?"
Draco looked up at her. For a moment his face looked small and vulnerable. "Never, he never told me…" Then he caught himself and his mask of cool self-possession slipped back in place. "No matter," he said. "Thanks for giving me the message, though."
He twisted the signet ring between his fingers, then put it on. A searching glance out of pale grey eyes hit her. Again she was reminded of the keen, penetrating gaze of his father. "You really care for him, don't you?" he asked, and she could not hear anything of his former arrogance in his voice. "I would not be here, otherwise," she admitted.
Draco nodded and seemed to consider for a moment as if he was reliving her memories. "No, not care," he said slowly, looking at her in surprise now. "You – you love him." Eleanor glared at him. He was a hell of a better legilimens than she had given him credit for. "Be careful now, Draco, before you go too far. Love is not an option. Not for me, and not for your father. He is of the old houses, and he will never revoke the commitment he made to your mother. Nor should he."
The young wizard shrugged his shoulders. "Have it your way," he said brusquely. "Anyway, I'm – I'm sorry for what I said earlier, okay? I guess you're doing more to help him than my Mum." He paused. "Do you think they'll kill him?" he asked, sounding suddenly frightened.
She considered for a moment. "They might try to," she admitted. "But I think we have a very good chance that he will be exiled – at least for a while, until we can contest the sentence." Draco stared at her. "They'd take away his powers and force him to be a muggle? That's horrible!"
Eleanor nodded. "Yes, it is, but it's better than getting executed or being locked up in that dreadful prison cell. You've seen the memories, you felt what it is like to be in there. If he's out in the muggle world, I can help him. I've got contacts. He'll be all right. I promise." Draco sighed. "He'll go apeshit," he said with surprising frankness. "Father hates muggles."
She couldn't suppress a snicker. "Yeah, I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but you have a point. Muggles, beware!" Now Malfoy junior grinned, too, at least for a moment, until the gravity of the situation caught up with him again.
Just then a waitress came by, and Eleanor ordered a glass of mead. When the woman had left, she leaned in to talk to Draco again. "One more thing," she said. "What you did tonight, respond to an owl and come alone and unprotected to a location to meet someone you barely know, I don't want you to do that, ever, again!"
The young wizard stared at her. "Why?" She sighed. "Draco, your father thinks that the Death Eaters are now your enemies. He was forced to give away the Dark Lord's secrets, and he thinks they will want revenge for his betrayal. They may want to kill not just him, but you and your mother as well. You know they take out whole families, just to make a point. You are in grave danger." She had his full attention now. Obviously he knew enough about his father's associates to take her warning seriously.
"Stay home as much as you can and ensure that the place is properly warded, even see if they would take you back in at school over the summer. Perhaps Professor Snape can be persuaded. He's promised me to help you. Talk to him. The school has one of the best ward systems in the wizarding world. Use whatever your father taught you about defense." She dug in her pocket and pulled out a narrow leather band with a small gold pendant like a coin inscribed with a twelve-rayed star and magical runes.
"I made and enchanted this talisman a while ago. It will alert you to anyone with evil intentions towards you if you wear it. It will turn cold on your skin as an enemy approaches." The young wizard took the amulet from her and his lips curved in an amused sneer. "I'll get permanent frostbite," he joked. "Every bloody Gryffindor is going to set it off…" But he fastened the thin leather strip around his neck and slipped the pendant underneath his robes. "Thanks," he said. "This was your idea, or my father's?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I teach Defense against the Dark Arts at Durmstrang," she said. "Your father told me you are in danger. It's the least I could do. A full-time wizard body-guard would be better." Draco looked at her. "I don't need a baby-sitter," he declared. She gave him an appraising look. "No, I guess you don't," she said. "Just don't take any candy from strangers."
The waitress came back with the mead, and Eleanor was surprised to hear Draco order another butterbeer. She would have thought that he'd try to get away from her as soon as he could. She took a sip of her drink and raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. "Hanging out with an elderly witch on Midsummer evening?" she quipped. "Bummer!"
He picked up his beer and shrugged his shoulders. "You know, I couldn't believe it, when they arrested him. I always thought…" he broke off, considered. "I always thought he was impervious, perfect, unreachable. Now he's in prison. I mean, I saw what he looks like in your memories. He's a wreck!"
The young wizard paused, checked himself and then seemed to come to a decision. Suddenly he leaned forward and just started talking. Eleanor began to realize what he had kept bottled up inside for the last few weeks. "You know, it still hasn't really sunk in. But there's no one I can talk to. Mum is holed up with this lawyer of hers all day long. First I thought she was working on helping father, but I asked her, and she won't give me a straight answer. I don't think she's bothered about him. After all, you got to see him, she didn't. You're the first one I've met who gives a damn. Everyone else treats us like we are lepers.
I'm – I'm scared, I don't know what to do. He's always been there. He's always looked out for Mum and me. He's always told me what to do, who to be, to take pride in our family. And now he could die for what he did, what he believes in. And people think we are worse than muggles."
Eleanor looked at Lucius' son. Her earlier annoyance at his insolence had given way to pity. "Look Draco. I'm not going to make it sound better than it is. Your father has hit rock bottom and right now, you're on your own. You may think that's unfair, but you'll have to live with it for now, just as your father has had to live with the choices of his father.
I can't tell you what to do, because I'm not sure exactly what to do myself. My advice is, confide in Professor Snape. He knows your father, and I believe he wants the best for you. Owl me, if you need me. I'm on your father's side, and on yours. Other than that, I'd advise you, trust no one. Better paranoid than betrayed or dead, Draco."