Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, I own nothing but the plot.

A/N: Here's the last chapter before I go on vacation, sorry about any mistakes, I was rushing to get this up. Thank you all for your reviews, now I can have the 200th review party!! Yay! Drinks for everyone! LOL

I just finished this book called The Year Of The Hangman by Gary L. Blackwood, and the main character reminds me exactly of Draco. At first I thought it was just my psycho obsession with Draco, but Creighton Brown has the same personality. So weird.

PotC references: There were actually 3 you could have come up with...I wasn't counting Bloomsboro cause I only used that after seeing Orli in a few scenes of Black Hawk Down..the other two were: Jack Turner - Jack Sparrow + Will Turner - most of you got that one, and the idea of the hidden bottom in Draco's trunk came from Elizabeth's hiding spot for the Aztec gold in her drawer.



The Pain Within
Chapter 15: Happy Christmas



As was tradition on Christmas Day, Draco woke early the next day (7:30) and headed downstairs to the living room. It was decorated in the fashion of most Christmas-celebrating families: an evergreen tree, stockings, presents, and a miniature train. Unlike most families, however, the Malfoy family had to have the best and most expensive of everything. The forest green stockings that hung from the fireplace were made from the finest silk and the names Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were embroidered on them in gold thread above hand-sewn, beaded holiday scenes. The Christmas tree stood at eighteen feet in the middle of the room, decorated with pure silver ornaments and Scottish candy canes, and lit by faeries caught in the woodlands of France. A stainless steel train track wound around the base of the tree, a steam powered locomotive bearing the name Malfoy chugging merrily through tunnels, over bridges, and occasionally stopping at a miniature station in a snowy little town that was located to the right of the tree. A pile of silver wrapped presents sat to the left of the tree containing expensive items Narcissa and Draco were expected to flaunt in front of their friends.

Draco smiled when he saw his mother sitting in her velvet armchair that was located in front to the tree and train. She had, like Draco, just woke up, but didn't look it at all in a mauve house robe with her hair simply pulled back. Draco hadn't even glanced in a mirror, unusual for him, for his hair was still mussed from sleep and he wore his gray silk pajamas. But his father wasn't there to reprimand him, so he couldn't care less.

Good morning, Narcissa laughed as she ruffled his hair when he leaned down to hug her. I don't think I've seen your hair that messed up since the day you were born.

Draco pretended to look insulted. It's not messed up, Mother. I was going for the bedhead look.

Oh, sorry, didn't realize, Narcissa giggled.

Draco laughed. It's okay. Happy Christmas, Mum.

Happy Christmas to you too, Draco, she smiled.

Two house elves entered the room carrying trays of that morning's breakfast. They placed two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, a pitcher of milk, a basket of freshly baked muffins, a plate of cinnamon buns, and a bowl of fruit on the mahogany coffee table along with napkins, silverware, plates, and glasses. The family usually ate a formal breakfast, all dressed up, in the dining room, but since Lucius wasn't present Narcissa decided to be a bit more casual. Draco preferred this way better but knew to savor it because it would never happen if his father was around. He and his mother filled plates with the breakfast goodies. Narcissa curled one leg under her body, placing her plate in her lap, while Draco reverted back to his childhood position of sitting Indian-legged on the floor and leaning against his mother's chair. Narcissa smiled.

You used to sit like that every Christmas morning when you were little and unwrap each gift. Then you would climb into my lap and explain what it did tome before climbing back down for the next gift and climbing back up again, she laughed.

Draco took a large bite of a gooey cinnamon bun. Erwy eckwercise.

Narcissa handed him a glass of milk. He grinned and drank a few hasty gulps. he said once he could talk properly.

He took another (much smaller) bite of cinnamon bun. Opening gifts was so much fun then, all I got were toys. All those things we're expected to brag about, he said nodding at the pile of gifts.

Narcissa sighed. She wished she could bring her son back in time to his early years, when his harsh reality hadn't surfaced yet. Back when he was oblivious to the horrible emotions of pain, hate, and anger. She wished she could have had the courage to do something sooner to prevent him from those feelings, instead of allowing him to become involved with the danger he was now in. If anything terrible ever happened to him, she would never forgive herself.

It's hard to believe you and Bellatrix Lestrange are sisters, Mum, Draco spoke up. You're nothing alike. You're beautiful, she's not. She's evil, you're not. Although, that was very convincing acting you did last night, he grinned.

She half-smiled at the compliment. I don't need Bellatrix accusing me of being another Andy because I didn't act like muggleborns were scum. Your father would not have been pleased if I didn't fulfill our image of a true pureblood family.

She didn't want to be accused of being another Andy was right; she wanted to be another Andy. Just pack up her things, throw away all the pureblood beliefs she was supposed to have, and leave. But she could not and would not leave her son. Ever.

I still think you should move in with your rebel cousins in France, you know, escape all this Pureblood crap. Or even Aunt Andy, she seems nice. I bet you could -

A strawberry was snatched from Draco's plate and stuffed in his mouth. Narcissa kissed the side of his head. Why don't you finish your breakfast and open your presents, sweetie. Your father spent quite some time in Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Even that was not able to stop the glare that shown on Draco's face as he chewed the sweet fruit. Why wouldn't his mother listen to him? He would be fine, now that he had the spy thing going on for Dumbledore. He is the only wizard Voldemort ever feared; Draco figured he was in good hands. Sighing, he finished breakfast and crawled over to the stack of gifts.

His father had bought him a pair of suede shoes; another dress robe; a pair of rare eagle feather quills; three ink jars engraved with his initials and the Slytherin crest; the newest broom supply kit - complete with the glossiest wax, finest comb, most recently improved seat cushioning and brake tuning charms, and the latest version of Handy Tips To Handling Your Racing Broom - all in a hand made leather pouch; new Quidditch gear (since his current set was already almost a year old); and a series of books on the Dark Arts. His mother gave him a few fiction books by his favorite wizarding author, Bernard Crunkershnoff, and a strange new type of paint from Aloyarc.

It's for touch ups, she explained. You brush it on the painting where you want more color, where you made a mistake, or where a spot needs more definition, then say the color you want, and voila! The painting is improved.

Draco eyed the product in his hand. Interesting. This will definitely help me. My sunrise painting is really screwed up. Thank you, Mum. Here's your gift.

Narcissa unwrapped the gift to reveal a box from Simply Silver, a unique jewelry store in Hogsmeade.

Oh, Draco, it's gorgeous, she breathed as she lifted a silver heart-shaped locket out of the box.

Open it, Draco demanded.

Opening the tiny locket, Narcissa peered inside. On the right side, a tiny picture of Draco and herself waved back up at her, while on the left side an inscription read: I love you Mum. Narcissa looked up at her son with tears glistening in her eyes.

Thank you Draco; I love it. It's the most meaningful piece of jewelry I've ever received. Will you do the honors?

Draco nodded and walked behind her chair to clasp the necklace around his mother's thin neck. He noticed a few faded bruises. Stupid bastard, he thought about his father. Pushing away anger for the sake of Christmas, he sat back down on the floor and fingered his new leather knee/shin guards.

How is the Slytherin Quidditch team doing? Narcissa asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

Pretty well, actually. We only lost one game. But our scores from the other games were so high that we still have a pretty good chance of winning the Cup, he said.

I'm surprised Slytherin lost. I've heard they have a great captain this year, she grinned slyly.

Draco smirked. They do. The loss was to Gryffindor. But, I did catch the Snitch against Harry during a scrimmage, so they better watch out.

Narcissa smiled at the lack of animosity in her son's voice when saying Harry Potter's name. Good for you, I'm proud. How are your studies?

The ancient Grandfather clock in the hall chimed 9:00 as Draco launched into a description of his sixth year classes.


A little while later, at about 9:30, most occupants of the Burrow were still sound asleep. The Weasleys preferred to share breakfast and gifts when everyone was fully conscious and in a jolly mood. Hence the reason no one was out of bed yet. One adolescent, however, was awake. And not too happy about it either.

Ronald Weasley stared sleepily at the ceiling above him. The ghoul that resided in the attic clanked and banged on the pipes as its way of saying Happy Christmas'. This was not what stopped the red-head from entering dream land again though. The quilt-covered, mumbling lump in the bed that was situated five feet away from his own was responsible.

Oy, Harry, Ron grumbled as he rolled over,of all early mornings to have nightmares, did you have to pick Christmas morning?

He wondered whether to wake his friend up, considering Harry's nightmares tended to be more unpleasant than most's. The selfish and grumpy part of him wanted to, just because Harry had, although involuntarily, woke him up. But the barely awake friend in him told him not to, since the boy didn't seem to be in any physical distress yet. He usually tossed and thrashed about in his bed until Ron or another Gryffindor shook him awake. So Ron just sighed and tried to sleep.

After ten minutes of watching his best friend's form peacefully rise and fall, Ron thought that maybe for once, Harry was having a normal dream and normally talking in his sleep. No matter how comforting that was, Ron was still bloody awake. Bored and cranky, he grabbed his wand and lazily banished shirts and socks at Harry. When he ran out of those and started to pelt the lump with magazines and books, it stirred.

Bloody hell, Ron, came the groggy irritated voice of Harry Potter, why the hell are you chucking books at me?

Cause it's a quarter to ten and I'm up.

The blanket moved and the very disgruntled Boy-Who-Lived poked his head out as he groped the bedside table for his glasses. Once they were positioned atop his nose, he glared at Ron.

Then why are you up?

Ron rolled his blue eyes. I woke at 9:00 because of you. What was the nightmare about this time? Is - is You-Know-Who plotting something?

Harry stared at his best mate. What in Merlin's name are you going on about, Ron? I didn't have any nightmares.

You didn't? Ron asked, confused. Because I heard you mumbling. I couldn't make out exact words, but I definitely heard it. It sounded like - he paused as a garbled sound filled both their ears, that. It's coming from your side of the room.

Harry climbed out of his bed. I think it's coming from my trunk.


That's Severus for you. All Slytherins' savior, Narcissa laughed. Still, those poor Hufflepuffs.

Draco shook his head. Nah. They deserved it.

She smiled and glanced at the clock. Ten o'clock. I'm going to shower and get dressed. Then we can relax for the rest of the day before dinner if you want.

Draco agreed.

she said, standing. She ruffled his blond mop. Maybe you could fix the bedhead look, she grinned.

Draco pouted as she left the room. It can't look that bad, he muttered. He suddenly remembered the mirror he had confiscated last night that now resided in his pocket. Aha! Let's observe Draco's new style, he said to himself.

But pulling out the mirror, the blond received a very big surprise. He did not see his reflection. All he saw was black, until objects were seen and heard being shuffled around and a few patches of light flitted about.

I just heard it again, keep going, a particularly familiar voice urged.

I see nothing in here but clothes and Quidditch stuff, and last time I checked, they don't talk, another voice stated. Unless- no, that's impossible, the voice whispered.

the first voice asked.

The bottoms of a couple of fingers came into view. Draco watched, confused, as light permeated the mirror's viewing range and some sort of room was evident. Then the shocked faces of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley filled the mirror's surface.

Potter?! Weasley?! Draco cried in disbelief, reverting to last names because of his shock.

Malfoy?!? Go bloody figure that you would be the one that woke me up, Ron complained.

What are you talking about? How could I wake you when you're there, and I'm here?

The mirror, dumbarse. You must have said Harry's name and the two-way mirror activated in his trunk, and your talking woke me up.

How the hell did you get that mirror, Malfoy? Harry interrupted their soon to be full fledged argument.

Draco was taken aback by the cool tone and stony expression on Harry's face. I stole it from my aunt, who stole it from Sirius Black. What's it to you? Where'd you get yours? he asked suspiciously.

Harry's face remained blank. Sirius gave it to me.

Sirius Black? Draco asked incredulously.

Harry nodded. Yes. It was a Christmas gift last year. He was my godfather.

Draco's eyes widened as he stared down at the mirror. Your godfather? But he was evil.

No he wasn't! both Harry and Ron exclaimed. Harry explained bits and pieces of Sirius' story to Draco. He didn't trust Draco entirely yet to explain about everything he had found out since his third year, but told him enough to understand. Draco was awed at how twisted the truth had become.

Bloody hell, he breathed. I actually met Peter Pettigrew. A dumpy little bald man. He was at my... he trailed off. Err, what a traitor, he stated. Kind of like me, he thought. How ironic.

 Ron agreed. Scumball. Pretended to be my rat. Arsehole. Hey, you said you stole the mirror from your aunt - who's your aunt? Not Tonks' mother, right?

Nope, Bellatrix Lestrange, my mother's other sister, Draco answered. She took it after..after she -

Harry hissed venomously. I hate her with all my might.

I know the feeling, Draco muttered. Listen, Ron, your parents and brother are there, right?

Ron nodded.

I hate to ruin Christmas, but I need to speak with them and it can't wait until school starts again, he explained. It'll be too late, he said quietly.

Ron glanced uneasily at Harry. I'll go get Bill. He's the least grumpy when he wakes up.

You used the Invisibility Cloak? Harry asked once Ron was gone.

Draco smirked. They had no idea I was in the room.



Ron returned with a half-asleep Bill. This better be good, Malfoy, the older red-head grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. I don't appreciate being woke up so damn early.

Neither do I. I was up at nine, Ron whined as Bill shooed them out of the room.

Weasleys ain't morning people, eh? Draco teased.

You have no idea! Harry called over his shoulder.


A half an hour later, one Bill Weasley was wide awake.

You're certain about all of that? You're sure they didn't know you were listening?

I'm positive about the information. No, they didn't have a clue I was eavesdropping, Draco assured him. He didn't mention that at first he initiated the Death Eaters' conversation by sort of telling them about the Order. He didn't want anyone to be angry.

Okay, good. I'll alert the rest of the Order and we'll try to warn the French.

Draco nodded.

Thank you for contacting me. We might be able to put a dent in Voldemort's plans. Take care and have a Happy Christmas.

Okay, you too. Bye, Draco said. He didn't know how to deactivate the mirror so he just gently set it down on the carpet.

This spying for the Order thing was having quite an effect on Draco. He smiled more; it was strange. We might be able to put a dent in Voldemort's plans, Bill's words rang in his head. Thanks to me, he grinned. The best part of it was that no one on Voldemort's side would suspect it was him that ratted them out. He leaned back against the chair and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He merrily sent green and red sparks in the air. He also sent a few flames in the air while he was at it.

Take that, Lucius, you evil bastard, Draco said out loud. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Maybe he would play a major role in bringing down Voldemort and his father. Especially his father. Elated, he pointed his wand and concentrated.

Expecto patronum.

Unlike all previous attempts, the wisp of white smoke of the Patronus Charm curled into a shape. It wasn't very strong or bright, but the animal was clear. He smiled.

A dragon. Very nice, a voice commented from the floor.

Draco smirked down at Harry. Very nice indeed.






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***Next chapter: Lucius comes home...Draco returns to school...and our friends learn how to properly duel by everyone's favorite Potions Master and werewolf...***

He he he, here's some more fun stuff for you before you REVIEW :)
-Draco's favorite author shares initials with a famous children's author. Can you guess who?
-Find the line from Fox's The OC' (great show, I highly recommend). They only played it on the commercials 2000 times....