A/N: So many complaints about Draco's decision. T-T
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"Hurry up!" Draco complained as he ran to the top of the astronomy tower. He glanced back at the far behind Potter and discretely cut his hand, mundanely waving it before his face. He was on the roof; any onlooker might mistake him for some madman. "Teredore," Draco breathed, summoning their transportation for Malfoy Mansion.
He didn't even say goodbye to Hermione. She'd suspect something, and go nosing through everything in a very Ravenclaw way and ruin everything. And because Draco couldn't handle it. How do you say goodbye to someone who will always be there, who he will always lov... like? He couldn't, so he didn't.
Harry was nearly there, the lazy oaf was surely taking his time. Harry was looking at the roof tiles, studying how interesting they were. Amazing, really. However did this Gryffindor ever beat him in Quidditch? Another riddle he'd have to get to the bottom of.
How did the lazy oaf give her up? How could he just let her slip away? Why did he have to follow in suit? Questions Draco didn't want to get to the bottom of, but knew inside he'd have to.
A huge winged horse with white shining eyes, a dragonish face and neck and a skeletal black body was attracted to the smell of blood, Harry stared wide eyed; remembering the last time he saw a fearsome Thestral. Harry had abandoned his trunk when Draco convinced him he didn't need it and insisted that Harry shouldn't intrude in his parent's home. Draco reached out with his bloodied hand and patted it on its neck and Harry looked uneasily at the bonding pair.
"This is Teredore," Draco introduced, "he's going to take us to my house," Draco smirked, somehow riding the formidable beast. "C'mon, Potter," he urged,
"Teredore," Harry muttered, trying to raise himself onto the creature with similar grace as Draco, only to land back on the roof. Draco, reigning in the fiend, offered a hand to him.
Finally on the animal, Harry was forced to ride behind Draco and grip onto him with a deathlike hold to ensure he wouldn't slip. Draco bent down towards its mane, making Harry lose his balance, to accelerate speed and whisper to his dear friend,
"Let's go home, Teredore,"
---
Hermione tsked to herself, scowling the absent Harry and Draco for skipping school. Scribbling down notes from the board as Snape also dictated, Pansy was giving death stares at her as usual. Snape twirled around and noticed two absences. Two unexplained absences. He groaned slightly to himself. Why? Maybe they just caught a cold and were off sick.
"Ms Granger," his voice put a halt to Hermione's wistful thoughts, "where, dare I ask, is Mr Malfoy?" his voice leaked out a little concern,
"I believe he went home," Hermione replied. Several Slytherins listened openly attentive and looked over to her questioningly as how she knew. "I also know that Harry went with him,"
This jerked Ron, and everybody else for that matter, out of his eluded fantasy over some Ravenclaw. Many of the class took a sharp breath; Draco and Harry? Again? How did Hermione fit into this?
"Does Mr Malfoy... and Mr Potter realise they are skipping class? Without consent I assume," Snape asked.
Hermione looked down. She had tried questioning them both, but they wouldn't budge and everything but the date and whereabouts of their journey remained hidden.
"Possibly," Hermione answered.
Snape grimaced. What was that Potter boy doing with Mr Malfoy? Useless Potter and Gryffindor scum corrupting the young Malfoy. Snape frowned.
"You may carry on and work with Ms Parkinson," he directed. It seemed like they were getting stuck together more often than either would like. Hermione sighed, moving herself again beside Pansy and began scribbling down her project assessment.
She glanced at Ron, a last resort, maybe he could be her saviour? Ron was scribbling something down, not bothering to look up. Whatever he was writing, it was repetitive and could not have been any part to do with Potions. Two words. Two names. Hermione smiled, guessing who Ron's object of affection was.
"Psss..."
Pansy turned, looking for the voice of the whisper, eager to be distracted from the dreary work. Hermione ignored it and continued to jot down ideas.
"Hermione,"
Pansy turned irritated, why was someone calling the Mudblood as opposed to her?
"Oi, over HERE!!" the voice was getting above a whisper and Snape averted his eyes to the Slytherin breaking a rule, he really didn't have the time or the patience for this. Hermione turned to see Blaise, Malcolm, Laura, Liz, Kate, Meg; and last of all; Anna,
"Yes?" Hermione answered; maybe if she answered they'd leave her alone,
"Why'd Draco leave so... unexpectedly?" Malcolm asked,
"Uh..." Hermione didn't know,
"Why has Harry gone with him?"
"Um..." Hermione still didn't know,
"Why didn't you go with him?"
"Because I'm not of pureblood," she answered bitterly, finally knowing the answer and regretting it.
Snape, recognising Hermione's voice, whirled around. With blazing eyes he barked,
"Get back to work and stop distracting others, Ms Granger; 50 points from Gryffindor!"
Snape was wound up. Usually the penalty for such behaviour was below the thirties, averaging in the twenties; but fifty points?
Silence followed and prevented further questioning. The Slytherins' last and most crucial question hung unanswered in the air;
Why hadn't even Draco told us?
---
"There," he pointed, arriving somehow at the uncharted Mansion.
On the winged horse, Harry almost lost his balance – yet again – at the sight revealed; the manor was a fine old house, towering as if it was a restored castle. Harry guessed it had well over a hundred bedrooms. The sheer height of the manor house rejected the dull solidity of the earth and aimed towards the boundless skies. The exterior of Draco's home was entirely black, like one would suspect of a haunted house; Harry had no doubt there were ghosts inhibiting in there either.
Draco smirked, somehow sensing or expecting Harry's awe,
"You like?"
Harry could only gulp shakily and hang on tight trying not to fall off as an answer.
"Now, Potter, remember; stay invisible and wait. Be right behind me and don't utter a sound. My father is one of the sharpest men you'll ever me. If he suspects something wrong..." Draco trailed off, knowing Harry knew the answer. As they both got off the Thestral, Draco rubbed his hands together to rid his anxious anticipation. Harry uncovered his Invisibility cloak from inside his robe and carefully concealed himself.
Draco took a deep breath and turned sharply around and made his way to the doorsteps of his home. Teredore left them; the swift movements of his wings left a deep batting noise that announced his departure. Draco walked on, staring straight ahead and face completely blank; disturbingly so.
They had flown over the wall, which no doubt harboured some useful spells to keep tainted blood out. Now only to get to the door and through it in one piece, thought Harry. He watched as Draco deviously avoided many traps just by stepping aside or pausing as he strolled down the pebble adorned pathway. All this and he was still nauseatingly composed.
Draco paused abruptly, making Harry slip into an abrupt halt too, and whispered discretely,
"Potter, listen very carefully; I'm going to utter some incantations and you have to repeat them. Listen very carefully and repeat, okay? The spells only work for individuals so don't even move another step without saying the counter curse,"
Draco stood forward and looked at the rose bush, seeing the illusion melt away into a distorted trap. It was a mutated crossbow, ready to shoot right at Draco,
"Icredumoulicious," Draco whispered slowly, "Pernitio!" he enforced with more vigour, and so he stepped with no harm. As if ignoring the events behind him, Draco stepped to the side to avoid another trap and swerved to get a view of the invisible Potter and hear him silently imitate what he, himself, had said.
They both continued down the footpath and, with a few exceptions to some Snaredrakes, they made it – finally! – to the front door. Draco knocked the door, and as the last stout thud echoed down the hallways, he quickly stepped aside before a hole was preset on the place where he had just been standing. Draco grimaced; what a welcome.
The grand door opened to expose a dainty house elf, cowering back from whoever dared to use the front door.
"M-Master Malfoy," the house elf stuttered, opening the door slightly wider to let him – and only him – in,
"Tristy," Draco commanded, the delicate name sounded harsh as it boomed out of his mouth, "I want coffee," he decided,
"Y-Yes, sir; of course. Tristy go and make coffee right away." The abused slave assured and scurried off.
Draco stepped inside and opened the door wide, as if making a grand entrance to unknown observers, letting Harry in too. Another pitiful house elf happened to be scurrying along with some tea,
How cute, Harry thought, looking at the small creature hold the tea set. It was strolling along, a smile on its face, but still in a hurry. Such a ridiculous sight could only been cute to Harry.
"You," sneered Draco, the house elf turned wide eyed at its young master,
"Y-Yes, s-sir?" it replied, pausing in front of authority,
"You're new aren't you? Any way, not that I care, announce my arrival to Father, and that I request an audience with him," instructed Draco,
"Y-Yes, of course. Merk must deliver Mistress' tea," Draco gazed at the poor creature with such cold fury the house elf changed it mind, "O-Of course, Merk will announce young Master's presence, of course. Sorry, Master. Master is right, Merk new, Merk not know. Sorry," and so it continued as it ran away from Draco, banging its head on the walls as it left.
Pitiful.
"Tell father I will in my room in the East wing!" called out Draco. He sighed and turned right, and with heavy footsteps, he made his way to his favourite room – one of many.
---
"So..." Anna stroked conversation as she hurried to catch up with Hermione from potions. Ginny was heading their way, "Where, exactly, is Draco?"
Hermione sighed, and waved to the approaching Ginny.
"I don't know," she repeated her answer from before,
"B-But... he didn't tell us anything of this... visit," Anna was mystified, Hermione at the genuine concern of Draco's friends for him,
"Don't worry, he's alright. I know it," Anna just stared at her as if she grew another head, how would the mudbl... Muggle born... know if Draco was alright? "Why are you so worried?" Hermione couldn't help herself; it was only a trip to back to his parents!
"Nothing," Anna replied eerily,
"You seemed really... concerned about him, were you two ever..." Hermione trialled off, she was never good at phrasing such situations,
"HEY! HERMIONE! SEE YOU AT LUNCH!!" Ginny called out, when the 5th year Slytherin part-veela, Caroline, pulled her towards the opposite direction. Hermione just smiled, the two were getting along really well. Scarily so. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? What next.
"No," Anna grimaced, "Malfoy, doesn't like blondes," and she flicked her hair distastefully away as it glistened beautifully in the sunlight.
Hermione was shocked. She chose to ignore was Anna just revealed,
"Well, I know Draco is alright. If you were ever worried, I assure you, he's fine." Hermione beamed,
"Yep, I guess you're right," Anna agreed, "Draco probably will always be fine," she smirked – a very familiar smirk – at the double meaning that was lost to Hermione.
---
"Father," Draco greeted, head lowered in revered respect,
"Son," Lucius replied with his head tilted upwards to further expose Draco's submission, "What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.
"I thought I'd visit you...have another chat like we did last time," drawled Draco, now beginning to recline on the regal couch before him. Harry just stood beside the door frame and watched the lovely family reunion,
"Not now, Draco," Lucius put off disdainfully looking at his son who was perturbingly comfortable in his presence, "Perhaps..." he suggested, "after dinner. Today, we have a meeting during our meal. Since you are home; you will be present." The statement wasn't even laid out as a question.
Lucius watched Draco intently, foundling his wand just in case his son was foolish enough to dispute. Draco looked up at him with stone like certainty.
"Of course, Father." He jumped of the couch with feline elegance and turned to leave,
"I will expect immaculate behaviour and compliance," Draco's father called out after him as he left, reminding him when it was not needed. Draco smirked and turned to the invisible Harry,
"Think you can handle replacing me when my father is occupied with this...meeting?" it, too, wasn't a request,
"Sure; I'll just be sitting there, chatting to your father's colleges, pretending I'm the son of a former death eater!" Harry whispered condescendingly.
Draco just smiled angelically, which could've only meant...
"Oh... no! Draco! No! You never said, you never told me! I thought! I never... YOU!!!" Harry spluttered. Harry realised he would have to sit and have dinner with a crowd of Deatheaters and pretend to be the son of their highest ranking member. And so the enraged, tricked and invisible boy tackled the conniving, spoilt and fine boy.
What else did Draco have up his sleave?
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A/N: Dum, dum, dum!!!
...Nothing to say really.