Malfoy

Oh how he detested that name, but there was a reason to hold onto it. There was power there, and money, and, most importantly, pride. Changing his name wouldn't make anyone distinguish between himself and his father.

"Why should they," he asked no one in particular. Stiffly making his way to the leather reading chair, he opened it.

A personal invitation, he thought, you didn't even think the head of Slytherin house would write me one. Oh, dear headmaster, I'm sorry, but I can't come, not like this.

Draco threw the invitation into the fireplace and watched the paper. He watched as it curled up and dissolved into ashes.

Ron finished attaching the reply to the invitation to Pig's claw, and sent him off. Jogging down the stairs he looked out the window and realized that it had begun to rain quite suddenly quite heavily.

"Ron?" cried Hermione from downstairs, "Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Ginny is, she hasn't been down all day." Hermione's voice was still heavy from her crying, but she was trying to forget.

"No," he unglued his eyes from the rain, and turning his head back toward the kitchen, "I don't," he lied, "but I think she may have gone out for a walk." He glanced outside, "maybe I should go look for her," he finished distractedly.

"I feel like visiting Mom and Dad anyway."

"Okay," said Hermione, " I'll meet you at the cemetery a little later, I have a few things to do first."

Draco got up wearily and retrieved his staff from its eternal spot next to the fireplace. He hated using it, but he had no choice. Malfoy leaned on the staff as a cane, which was once his father's. His face was beginning to show a few signs of the mental anguish that had taken place inside, but he had grown into his intense eyes. The creases had not diminished the undeniable and intimidating attractiveness that he was known for in his younger years.

He stepped out onto the rain-shielded balcony and realized the implications of a reunion. They will want to know about Harry. He wants me to tell them. "No," he said, but he knew what was coming, "Why me? Why doesn't he do it? He was there, too. He is the headmaster."

But Malfoy knew why. The Headmaster had wanted him to clear his name for many years now to try and make a new start in the wizarding world. Just crumple up his reputation and throw it away, expecting the world to buy into it. But hings were more complicated than that. The wizarding world needed villains. They needed to blame people. And Malfoy was perfect.

Today is the day. The thought came to him in the middle of his reverie. He glanced outside to the rain and a strange coldness swept over him. There was no shaking off this feeling. And no second chances. It is time … The cemetery...I think. Malfoy usually put much more thought into his actions before drove off in the middle of the day, but when dealing with Harry and the Prophecy, well, this was about as much planning as would go into it.

Ron absently pulled on one of his mother's woolen maroon sweaters and a cloak. He pushed open the door and was met with a blast of cold air.

"I have a feeling I know where you are," he said as he trudged forward. He started to jog toward the cemetery. He pulled out his wand, shedding some light on the road, and protecting himself from the rain.

Malfoy strode over to his garage, he had taken a fancy to Muggle cars over the years, of course he had them magically redone. They came in handy when he had to go into the muggle world, which his job required frequently. A jet black convertible hummed to life and he could not help but grin. (A/N: Cheesy, I know, but I couldn't help myself.) The door opened with another charm from his wand, and he eased into the seat with the aid of the staff.

Ron reached finally saw the gates, which were swinging back and forth. Out of nowhere a car tore around the corner, an ink black convertible with only one passenger. Ron immediately hid his wand, but upon closer inspection observed that this was no ordinary car. Ron looked a little closer and saw that not a single drop of rain had touched the individual and that the car seemed to be steering itself as the passenger adjusted his sunglasses.

The car screeched to a stop and the door flew open, a tall blonde haired man stepped out. He had made no effort to conceal the fact that he was a wizard, and was practically brandishing his wand. He wore all black and a green cape that hung over his shoulder, which hand a silver spike that seemed to hold his cloak in place. He had a large ornate looking staff, which he leaned on precariously. The wizard left his car in the rain-proof bubble, and created one for himself.

Then, to Ron's surprise, the man turned to him, and held open the cemetery gate. How does he know…thought Ron, but he sped up a little more to avoid keeping the man waiting.

"Hello there, Ron."

Ron swiveled around in complete astonishment, "How…?"

"You don't remember me?" the man pouted, and it was one of the most absurd things Ron had seen in a long time.He recognized the voice from somewhere, but just couldn't put his finger on it. The man took off his sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket. Ron's jaw dropped along with his umbrella, he gasped. Despite the long scar across his left eye, the cold stare was exactly the same.

Draco Malfoy?

"Bloody Hell"

"Nice to see you, too."