Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Some disturbing talk, more about death…The Lestranges are in this chapter and believe me, that needs its own warning.

Adversary

Part the Third

It was kept a secret from him for a month after the day he watched the frog die. He could tell something was going on. He heard people whispering and he could just feel that something was going to happen. Something was coming. Change.

It was the same sort of day that Draco usually woke up to. A maid came in and brought in his breakfast, opening the heavy curtains that covered his window during the night. Draco would insist she leave so he could have some breakfast. She would leave and he would slide out of bed, his feet going in his slippers, and then he would slip on his silk dressing gown.

He ate breakfast, contemplating what he would do that day. He had lessons but after lessons, perhaps he could practice his archery on targets that weren't running and screaming for mercy. He could shoot at the trees in the apple orchard. That would suit him just fine.

Draco had his bath for the day and then allowed himself to be dressed in his normal attire for the day. As he combed his hair by himself he surveyed it carefully to make sure it didn't need to be trimmed. He didn't let anyone trim his hair for him anymore—they sometimes did it wrong and he was the only one who truly knew exactly how he wanted his hair cut.

It would be time for lessons soon and so he would sit there, idly passing the time by half reading a textbook and half watching the sky out the window. Nothing interesting on either side. Then he heard a noise and picked himself up to look at the window properly.

A black carriage was coming down the drive. The Dark Lord sometimes came in a black carriage but most of the time he just appeared. Draco watched it, his expression unchanging even though he wanted to know who was in this carriage. A maid came in and told Draco that his father had sent for him. If Lucius Malfoy sent for someone, it was not a request.

He followed the maid not to his father's study as he expected, but downstairs, into the main foyer, where his mother and father stood waiting. Draco approached, the maid excusing herself quickly.

"Yes, father?" Draco raised an eyebrow. Clearly something was happening and he had no knowledge of it beforehand. He hoped that it wasn't the Lestranges. He loathed Aunt Bellatrix and Uncle Rodolphus. Aunt Bellatrix always talked about what a delicious looking boy he was while petting his head and looking at him like she actually was commenting on how good he would taste when she later tried to eat him. His aunt and uncle seemed quite capable of doing such a thing. So did Uncle Rodolphus' equally unappetizing brother Rabastan who was always trying to get Draco on his own and had almost succeeded a few times, had Draco's own father not interfered.

"We'll be greeting a house guest and it's only appropriate that you are here to do so." Lucius informed his son. A house guest. It could very well be the Lestranges. He tried not to shudder.

The doors opened and in walked Nott, Draco cringed. He couldn't stand Nott's sniveling, always currying for favor, and the like. If he was the house guest, then Draco hoped he was only a house guest for a very short amount of time.

But there was someone behind Nott, a smaller person, someone Draco's age, which immediately peaked his interest because he had never met him. He was obviously related to Nott, they had some of the same features, the blonde hair, and the blue eyes (though not pale like Draco's, more of a piercing dark blue). Draco wondered if the Notts were also related to the Malfoys somehow. There was probably very few families not connected with the Malfoys through some relation or another. He was very skinny and he hunched over, a bit like his relative, but not in an attempt to make himself smaller like Nott did, but in an attempt to hide himself.

There were several other differences as well. Nott had that weak, watery sort of look to him and he had that stupid smile to his face, even when he was told to shut up but this boy was glaring at them all like he hated them all already.

"Stand up straight Theodore." Nott told the boy. The boy straightened only a little and still glared defiantly at everyone around him. "Lucius, this is my son, Theodore." Lucius gave Theodore his most condescending look, one that usually made most servants' knees shake. Theodore continued to look at him with hate-filled narrowed eyes. Lucius didn't seem to like that at all. Draco hid a smile he knew was trying to creep up on his face. Not many people could stand up to Lucius Malfoy the way that Theodore was. He had Draco's instant respect.

"As you know, I am Lucius Malfoy and the master of this manor." Lucius told Theodore. "You will obey the rules of this manor or you will discover just how unpleasant the punishments can be." Theodore rolled his eyes. "And I will not tolerate any disrespectful behavior either. Your father may be easy to push around but you'll find what you're looking for if you want to go head to head against me."

"I am now utterly terrified of breaking any rules." Theodore's voice was so thickly layered with sarcasm that Draco whipped his head to make sure he didn't miss a moment of his father's reaction. Lucius' nostrils flared angrily and he pulled out his wand. Nott stepped in front of his son.

"Now, now Lucius, he's a bit angry about this transfer of residence." Nott's hands rubbed together. "You have to make some allowance…"

"Are you telling me how to run my own household, Nott?" Lucius' voice was a deadly whisper.

"N-no…" Nott shook his head, looking terrified. "I was only—" Lucius raised his wand.

"Crucio." He spoke the word and Nott fell to the ground, jerking at the intense pain and twitching horribly. He waved his wand again and Nott stopped but was panting heavily on the ground in front of Theodore, who hadn't seemed to notice his father at all. Lucius moved his gaze to Theodore again. "As I said, I don't tolerate disrespect in this household." Nott's glare had gone to a leaden gaze that made him seem more impetuous but he said nothing else.

Draco knew he must have some brain—probably got all the brains his father didn't have. Only a fool would have said anything else right then. Theodore's eyes flickered towards Draco and then back up at Lucius.

"This is my wife Narcissa; you will obey her orders unless I have given you an order otherwise." Lucius gestured towards his wife who only looked down her nose at Theodore. "And my son, Draco." Draco wanted to give Theodore some secret sign to show that he thought his actions were impressive but he could not think of any so he merely nodded his head at Theodore who did not return the gesture. Nott picked himself off the floor.

"I must be going; I have lots of business to attend to today." Nott excused himself, swallowing hard. He turned to Theodore. "Now, then, you have all your things, Theodore and remember what we talked about." Theodore gave his father a disdainful look.

"I can't remember a word you've ever spoken." Theodore informed his father. Nott faltered for a moment and then bowed repeatedly as he backed out of the foyer. The maids took Theodore's two trunks and started to take them up the stairs.

"Draco, why don't you accompany Nott to his room?" Lucius turned to his son and Draco carefully arranged his face so he didn't look pleased at all. Lucius and Narcissa turned and walked off in the opposite direction of the stairs.

Draco walked beside Theodore as they followed the maids but Theodore made no conversation and so Draco saw that he would have to wait to talk to him until there were no maids around to gossip about the conversation to his father.

As soon as they entered Theodore's room (which was down the hall from Draco's), Draco sent the maids away and told them to find something useful to do for once. Then he turned to give Theodore a smile to show that he approved of him but Theodore wasn't looking at him, just staring out the window.

Draco watched him stare out the window and he wondered if he was watching his father leaving. He hadn't seemed to care very much about his father, so this struck Draco as odd. That was until Theodore suddenly turned around.

"Good, he's gone." Theodore seemed to be talking to himself and then noticed Draco still standing in the room. He focused his strongest glare on the pale boy whose expression showed no sign of being intimidated. "What are you still doing here?" His voice spat.

"I live here." Draco answered in a defensive manner. "And now so do you."

"I didn't want to move to this dump." Theodore's tone was venomous. Draco hadn't meant for the conversation to go this way at all. But what did he know of making friends? "I'm going to leave as soon as I can."

"I heard you ran away from your house." Draco sat down in one of the chairs.

"Thirteen times." Theodore's teeth were bared. "I ran away thirteen times."

"And you never made it?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "You didn't plan it very properly, did you?"

"Who asked you?" Theodore's eyes narrowed even further—something Draco hadn't even thought possible.

"I'm a Malfoy, nobody has to ask me." Draco folded his arms smugly. "Why did you keep running away?" He was genuinely curious.

"None of your damn business, that's why." Theodore snapped at him.

"It's no good doing that to me." Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't really care, I was just curious. You should be a little more careful around my father though."

"I don't care if he curses me." Theodore looked at with a funny sideways look that, along with his nose, made him look a bit like a rabbit. "Does he curse you?"

Draco was about to answer but he remembered immediately that his father had done the Cruciatus Curse on him a number of times when he was younger to make him behave. That's why he was always so quiet, even for a child. You learned lessons better with pain. But it struck him as something that wasn't Theodore's business, even if Draco was prying into the other boy's. It was completely different.

"He doesn't need to curse me, I'm smart enough to know how not to get cursed." Draco finally answered. "I guess your father isn't very clever…" He wondered what Theodore would say to this.

"Ha!" It was a short bitter bark of a laugh. "That moron has never picked up on anything, even if you're waving it in his face." Theodore looked somewhat satisfied to be insulting his dad. Draco thought that perhaps they would end up friends after all. "But you're an idiot if you don't even stand up to your own father."

"I pick my own battles." Draco interjected quickly, frowning.

"I'm sure." Theodore replied scathingly. "You looked like you were waiting for him to say 'jump'. You probably do everything he says."

"That's not true." Draco stood up, feeling every bit like he was lying. He was. "Your father doesn't even want you—he fobbed you off on us." Theodore's look showed Draco that he had found a weak point in Theodore's defense.

"Get out." Theodore's voice was barely above a whisper but Draco knew he was angry. "Get the hell out." Draco took his time doing so.

There was no way he would admit that Theodore had won the argument.

Even though Theodore treated everyone like he was plotting their murder, Draco still had to spend time with him. For one, they had lessons together. Theodore was just as good at Draco, which was gratifying because Draco didn't want to be held back on account of Theodore.

They didn't really speak unless to make snide remarks at each other. They fell into a regular routine of this, so regular that sometimes Draco would notice the time and just make a snide remark to keep things on schedule.

They had to have tea together. His father insisted upon this as part of Theodore's education on what a real son should be like. Draco had almost felt complimented on this until his father added that would have to pretend he was an acceptable son during this time.

Tea time was very quiet and usually they just sat there, draining a cup of tea and eating cakes (which Theodore rarely touched) before getting up and walking off in different directions. Theodore didn't attempt to runaway though, something that Draco couldn't understand. It always sounded like Theodore would bolt the second everyone turned their back on him.

Unfortunately, one day, Lucius announced that indeed, the Lestranges would be coming for dinner. Draco felt like he was going to throw up at the announcement but held it in until tea time. Apparently Theodore had been doing the same.

"I hate dinner guests." Theodore kicked the leg of the table, jostling the tea things a bit. "It's just so they can remind themselves that they're all on the same side, part of the same stupid club."

"We're all on the same side." Draco pointed out in a deadpan voice.

"I'm not on anyone's side." Theodore declared and Draco couldn't help but want to know what he meant by that. You had to be on a side. You couldn't just stand there, being neutral. Could you? The idea of not being on the side that he was on was as foreign as it got.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"I mean I'm not for the stupid Lord Voldemort or the dumb goody-goody two-shoes in the Northern Mountains." Theodore told him. "It's stupid to be on anyone's side."

"Why?" Draco inquired, not knowing why this new stance was beginning to get at him.

"Comrades and all that, it doesn't actually exist. It's only convenience. The second that something falls apart, you can expect them to put a knife in your back." Theodore spoke bitterly. "That's why my father's such a fool. He's always scrambling to do what people tell him to do, but that's just stupid. If you're on your own side, you don't have to worry about any alliances or anything. You can just do what you like."

"Well I think that's stupid." Draco drew himself up importantly. "On this side, you're an heir to a legacy. On your own side you're nothing."

"Do you think being an heir means anything?" Nott asked challengingly, his eyes narrowed as always. Draco suddenly remembered his brother again.

"Mother says that if you're an heir, you get everything and you can do anything you like."

"No." Draco shook his head and he saw that Theodore looked surprised for a moment. "I don't think it means anything except that you get lots of money and power and an estate. Having those things is better than having nothing."

"A consolation prize." Theodore shrugged, his lips pursed. Then he glanced sideways at Draco. "What do you think of the Lestranges?"

"That they're disgusting." Draco was happy to be able to say this. "I hate them. They're idiots."

"I think that they've become so inbred that they can't tell left from right." Theodore commented dryly. They caught each other's eye and then went back to their tea. Draco knew for just a moment, they had come very close to becoming friends. That pleased him greatly.

But it didn't really help change the fact that the Lestranges were coming. The usual routine of getting scrubbed—although Draco did hear that Theodore bit one of the maids during his bath—and put in nice clothes. They were brought in to meet them in one of the sitting rooms.

Aunt Bellatrix had cackled with delight when she spotted Draco and had begun running her hands through his blonde hair.

"Such a pretty boy. Isn't he a pretty boy Rodolphus?" Bellatrix Lestrange had asked her husband; her eyes and smile just a little too wide. Rodolphus Lestrange smiled indulgently at his wife. "And this other one! You look like Nott…"

"He's his son." Draco told her and while his aunt was distracted, he moved enough away from her that she couldn't continue petting him.

"Ah, they've both grown into proper boys, haven't they?" Rabastan's eyes gleamed. "Come sit in my lap Draco."

"He's a bit old for that Rabastan." Lucius' voice cut through the air like a knife and Rabastan had a slightly apologetic look on his face.

"Well, I suppose he's a bit old to sit in his uncle's lap." Rabastan's eyes stayed on Draco. "Only, I've bought him this box of chocolates that I wanted to give him…" He pulled out a finely wrapped package with a bow. Draco would rather have eaten dirt than gone near those chocolates with his uncle offering them towards him.

"Come sit with me then little Theodore." Bellatrix patted the seat next to her. Theodore glared at her instead. "Ooooh, he's got spirit. I like that. Nott should have had come live at our house."

"We would have made him welcome." Rabastan agreed. Then he turned, frowning a little at Draco. "What is it Draco? Don't like chocolates? Come and get them." Draco took one look at his father's face and knew he'd have to accept the box of candy. He stood well away from his uncle and grabbed the box with his arm out stretched. His uncle pulled it just out of reach. "Now come here, Draco, so I can look at you properly."

"Perhaps one of the maids should just take the chocolates, then." Lucius said and Rabastan made a sour face as a serving girl came and took the box from him. "Draco, sit next to your aunt, Nott, sit on her other side. Narcissa will be along shortly and then we can all go into the dining room."

Draco had to endure more petting, though Bellatrix seemed to be more in favor of petting Theodore, who actually tried to bite her hand after a little bit of that and so Bellatrix kept talking about how wonderful Theodore must be to have around the house—she wasn't joking.

Dinner was much better because the huge dining table made it so that there were empty places in between Theodore and him and everybody else. There was no conversation on their side, next to Narcissa Malfoy, who merely sniffed occasionally instead of actually saying anything. On the other side of the table, there was often raucous laughter from Bellatrix. When the two boys finished their dinner, they asked to be excused and they had been—much to Draco's uncle's disappointment.

Draco was so glad to be out of there and so was Theodore that they had raced up to their own rooms and not spoken to one another at all. Draco was putting on his nightclothes and absently listening to the chatter of the maids when something they said had struck him.

"Isn't that Nott boy just awful?" One of the maids complained in a low voice, thinking that Draco couldn't hear her.

"Well, what can you expect?" Another maid asked her. "Everyone knows he killed his own mother."

The idea that Theodore had killed his own mother made him freeze completely. He had been wondering about Theodore and why he was the way he was. Suddenly it made an awful lot of sense. But then if Theodore, who hadn't been impressed with anything about Draco or the manor, had killed his own mother, might be also be impressed by the fact that Draco had killed his brother?

He pulled on his dressing gown and raced along the corridor until he got to Theodore's room. He pulled open the door and stepped inside. The maids had already left Theodore's room and there he was, getting into bed. He stopped when he saw Draco.

"What are you doing in here?" Theodore asked him in his usual shrewd manner.

"I heard." Draco stated and Theodore just stared at him, almost like he was staring right through him. "I heard you killed your mother. Well, I killed my brother." He waited for a moment and saw Theodore's shaking form.

"You little maggot." Theodore's teeth were clenched together. "Just what the hell do you want with me? Why are you here! To brag about how you killed your goddamn brother? Why the hell would I care! You're just doing it because you want me to be pleased with you—that's it isn't it?" Theodore glared at Draco's startled expression. "I hate you. I think you're the worst kind of person. Always doing what others tell you to do. Always wanting everyone to like you. That's just stupid." Theodore picked up a book and threw it at Draco's head. Draco ducked just in time. Why was Theodore so angry? "You don't know anything!" And in the faint light of one of the lamps, Draco saw something shining in Theodore's eyes, something he couldn't quite place. It couldn't possibly be tears because Theodore Nott would never cry.

"I was—" Draco began but Theodore cut him off, throwing another book.

"GET THE HELL OUT!" Theodore yelled at him. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM! GET THE HELL OUT!" Draco had never heard Theodore yell. He had always supposed that Theodore just didn't yell. He could say things in a whisper that was just as bad as shouting. But now, seeing Theodore yelling, looking enraged, he felt…hurt. He had told Theodore a lie, something he had never actually stated out loud because he knew it wasn't true, all because he thought that Theodore might like to know but Theodore didn't want to know. Theodore didn't want to be near him at all.

I thought we would be friends.

And instead you just want to discard me, the way everyone discards me because deep down…deep down…

Everyone knows I'm the second born son.

Draco fled the room, Theodore's angry face still emblazoned in his mind. He went to his own room, to jump into bed, and bury himself under the covers. It wasn't until he was in his room that he noticed something.

He was crying. He was crying because he should have stopped his brother and that even though he was dead, his memory still hung over Draco's like a victory banner. He was crying because the thing that had earned him respect all his life had lost all the respect he wanted from Theodore. He was crying because he hated this life, the way he just stood there and let things happen, had let that frog die. And the more he tried to hold back the tears, the harder them came out, in ferocious waves.

He had never been one for crying. As a child, whenever he cried, if his father caught him at it, he was given a dose of the Cruciatus Curse so he really had something to cry about.

Draco didn't know when his memories became dreams and he drifted off to sleep. He just remembered how exhausting it was to have all these things come pouring out of you in liquid form.

To Be Continued