Shadow of a Malfoy
By Be Boring
Chapter 2: The Meager Reunion
"Vera, honey, please don't go over there."
Draco heard the voice as though from miles away, but he was distinctly aware of something moving around by his legs as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. He was flat on his back on a very hard surface that he suspected to be the ground, his head felt like someone had dropped a cauldron on it, and yes, now he was sure there was something on his legs. Well, someone.
When he opened his eyes, it was to find an eager pair of brown eyes staring at him from his kneecaps. The little girl watching him avidly shuffled forward immediately when she saw that he was awake and settled herself onto his stomach, grinning down at him. "Hi!" she squeaked excitedly.
It took him a while to remember that she had been sitting on a nearby bed when he first arrived in this dump. Slightly disgusted that something this filthy had decided to come into physical contact with him, he slowly sat up, forcing her to slide back onto the ground. The grin never left her face, she obviously didn't understand just what 'snubbing' was. He avoided her gaze and looked around; they had dragged him outside and left him on what apparently was the hardest piece of earth they could find without actually just dumping him on a rock.
"Vera, leave him alone," commanded a voice from off to his right. Looking over, he realized that Ginny was picking vegetables from a rather wretched little garden, dropping them into a sack held by the little boy that he had seen earlier. The boy was staring at him as well, but not with the keen twinkle in his eye that the girl did. In fact, Draco couldn't make much out of the child's expression at all.
"I see you're already working hard on overpopulating the world with yet another generation of Weasleys," he commented dryly as the girl scampered over to join Ginny and the boy.
Ginny scowled at him. "They're not both mine, just Brian here." She tilted her head toward the boy, who apparently felt no need to blink, as his eyes were still focused on Draco. "Vera is my niece."
"Please tell me she's from one of the others, I can't imagine Potter's lapdog being able to reproduce."
This time she kept her back to him as she replied, "There are no others. Ron's the only one of my brothers left."
He thought her voice cracked slightly, but she didn't seem to be crying, so he pressed on. His top priority was to get out of here, and as long as he kept her talking, he stood a chance of getting a good head start before she realized what was happening. With his eyes starting to search for the most practical escape route, he asked distractedly, "How did that happen?"
When she whirled around to glare at him, he had to jerk his head back to look at her so that she couldn't see him studying the area around them. "Why do you care how my brothers died? Shouldn't you be thrilled? After all, there are less Weasleys in the world now. The Malfoys probably all had a celebration in honor of it."
Noticing her hand inching unconsciously toward her wand and suddenly recalling the vicious Bat-Bogey Hex she had used on him in their fifth year, he raised both hands as if in surrender and did his best to work up a suitable expression of innocence. This was more difficult than he would have expected. It simply didn't come naturally to him. "I didn't mean anything by it, I was just asking. I really didn't know until just now that anything had happened to them."
It seemed to pacify her for the moment, but he could still detect some of the fire that had nearly exploded from her moments before. Before he could ask again, she muttered grudgingly, "Bill went with Harry to Hogwarts and was hit by a Killing Curse meant for Ron. Fred and George were both killed when Voldemort attacked Diagon Alley. I'm sure they refused to join him, and he doesn't take prisoners anymore, so even though we never really got to see the bodies, we knew what had happened when they didn't come home after the attack. Percy ended up being put under the Imperius Curse at the Ministry and died later in one of our fights against the Death Eaters." A slight increase in the huskiness of her voice made it obvious that that incident still caused her a great deal of pain, although she managed to keep her smudged features completely blank. She had shown more signs of discomfort at the mention of Percy than she had when she'd spoken Voldemort's name. In fact, she had voiced his name as easily as though she said it every day. "Then Charlie died last year when he was caught breaking into a Death Eater camp for medical potions."
With her eyes still on him, he couldn't very well resume his search. His best option now was to keep the discussion going and wait for her to decide to work on the garden again while they talked. "What about your parents?"
"Dad died at the Ministry and Mum's still here, but she doesn't talk much anymore. Cooking is the only thing she really does with any interest because it distracts her."
It was slowly dawning on Draco that he had made a huge mistake in starting a conversation with her. She seemed to be the type to like to maintain eye contact when she spoke, unless she was doing it because she suspected what he was up to. He was probably stuck with her until someone else turned up. 'It's not hopeless yet. I just need something to take her mind off me.'
Like an answer to a prayer, little Vera suddenly reached out and snatched the vegetable sack from her cousin, waddling much faster than he would have predicted her capable of toward the dilapidated building behind them and squealing, "Supper! Supper, supper, supper, supper!" Her voice turned into a kind of manic chant as she disappeared inside. Some people he couldn't see laughed, but Ginny scowled and stalked toward the long cabin. He thought he heard the words "every damn time" as she vanished from sight.
As he pushed himself to his feet, he realized that the boy was still watching him. Had he even moved an inch since Draco had first woken up? Wishing the kid would just follow his mother, he mumbled uncomfortably, "Brian, right?"
No answer.
Slightly annoyed now, he tried to lightly comment, "Maybe your Mum could use some help."
No answer.
"Do you talk at all?" he snapped impatiently.
"No, he doesn't," a different voice replied fiercely, one that most definitely didn't belong to a three-year-old boy. Draco turned and watched Ron approach, marking the other man's height as he drew closer. Ron was definitely at least two inches taller than him and several inches broader. For someone who had once been so gangly, he looked remarkably like a boxer. Then again, this lifestyle probably required an extensive physical contribution.
Ron finally came to a halt a mere two feet from him. "Even if he did talk, I wouldn't want him communicating with the likes of you."
"Communicating is a rather big word for you, Weasel. Did some of the other homeless riffraff help you learn some vocabulary?"
The sneer he received in response was almost worthy of a Malfoy. "You talk like you've been still been living in a mansion. Malfoy Manor was destroyed a long time ago, and you certainly don't look like you've been living a life of luxury. With that hair and frame, you look like a woman from behind."
"But you can at least still tell I'm blonde, can't you? I'm guessing they ran out of beds inside. Have you been sleeping in a mud hole? It probably reminds you of home."
This time, he had evidently gone too far. Brilliant lights erupted before his eyes as once again he found himself flat on his back with his cheek throbbing nearly as much as his skull. He didn't even have a chance to sit up again as Ron dropped to his knees and buried his fist in his stomach. Gasping for breath, he flung out an arm and only by lucky chance managed to catch Ron in the collar bone, which ended up being sufficiently painful for them both.
"Stop it!" Ginny yelled angrily, gripping her brother by the armpits and dragging him to his feet, very much against his will. He seemed ready to dive back onto the ground again to continue the fight, but then his eyes landed on Vera, who had followed Ginny back outside and was staring up at him with a very different look from what she had given Draco. Her mouth was slightly open and she seemed petrified. Perhaps she had never seen her father this enraged before.
Softening at the fear in her face, Ron stooped down and picked her up, saying in a much gentler tone than Draco had heard yet, "Let's go help Grandma with supper, shall we?" Vera visibly brightened up at the mention of food and seemed quite content to let him take her back inside, although Draco received another bright, curious look before she disappeared around the corner.
Without warning, Ginny's palm smacked sharply into his temple as he sat up. "You can't go five minutes without fighting with someone, can you?"
"Is there a violent streak in your family that I didn't know about?" he grumbled as he once again climbed to his feet, now rubbing the spot where she had slapped him. "I don't think I'm the one with a fighting problem. The only one of you who hasn't touched me yet is that one over there." He gestured vaguely in Brian's direction. "Well, I guess your mum hasn't done anything either," he admitted. "But I blame her for spawning all of you."
With her hands planted firmly on her hips, Ginny growled, "Ron was right about you, you haven't changed one bit. Snape probably betrayed us and told the Death Eaters where we were, and they sent you here to kill us with sarcasm."
Draco opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly several stunned gasps rang out from the cabin and he distinctly heard someone say, "Snape!" Ignoring Ginny, he pushed roughly past her and slipped inside, following the elders of the group to the fireplace where they were gathering around Severus Snape's tall, dark form.
A man stepped forward to meet him, and Draco was surprised to recognize the gaunt shape of Remus Lupin, who barely consisted of more than the gray skin clinging feebly to his bones. Life as a fugitive hadn't been kind to him. Snape looked as though he was about to say something, but then his black eyes fell on Draco standing at the back of the crowd. The same fleeting look of astonishment crossed his face as when he had seen him earlier that day, but he recovered before anyone else could notice. Turning to Lupin as though he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary, he said in a low, bored tone, "You said you needed to see me?"
Lupin nodded. "Yes, there is something we are rather curious about. Why did you send Draco Malfoy to us?"
Snape's eyes flashed in his direction again. Draco barely turned his head a fraction of an inch to each side, his eyes narrowed in warning. He preferred having these people believe that he was a Death Eater, because with their incredibly absurd belief of not killing anyone if they could help it, they would simply hold him here to keep an eye on him. It would be easier to escape them when they were in that state of mind than if they thought they might be able to convince him to help them.
Immediately returning his gaze to Lupin, Snape managed to achieve a perfect expression of polite ignorance. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen Draco since we left the school."
The memory of just how the pair had departed from Hogwarts wasn't a pleasant memory for Lupin, because he visibly stiffened at Snape's words. "He came here through the Floo Network. You told us yourself that you arranged it so that only you would know how to get here that way, so he must have had your help."
"If I was sending anyone here, I would have contacted you about it first," Snape rebutted with the slightest hint of irritation. "I don't know how he discovered the name we placed on your grate, but it appears that he's done no harm yet. You all still look whole enough to me. Well, as whole as possible." His dark eyes passed scornfully around the room, lingering momentarily on the splintered table in the back where Mrs. Weasley was starting to pour vegetable soup into bowls as Ron and Vera tended the gargantuan pot behind her. "Has he told you why he is here?"
"We haven't had the opportunity to speak to him yet," Lupin admitted grudgingly.
Lowering his voice and leaning in so that no one else could hear him, Draco could see Snape whispering something in Lupin's ear. He frowned as he watched Lupin glance sideways cautiously in his direction, then nod, although he didn't seem very pleased as Snape suddenly set off through the crowd, heading straight for Draco. Their eyes connected quickly, then Snape looked pointedly at the door. The thought of talking to Snape in this place, where anyone might be able to eavesdrop no matter where they hid, didn't appeal to him greatly.
Snape passed him once they were outside and marched straight into the forest, not stopping until they reached a tree thicker than the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid. "I didn't expect you to linger this long, but it has to end. You need to get out of here before nightfall."
If he had been expecting anything, it wasn't that. "Why?"
"Isn't it obvious? The fools suspect you of being a Death Eater who came here to gather information. Security will tighten after dark, and yes, they have security," he added warningly when Draco snorted contemptuously, "but that's not our greatest concern. They have every right to be suspicious, they're just concentrating on the wrong person. The Death Eaters know about this place and they're planning to attack tonight."
Draco raised his eyebrows in some amusement. "Were you planning on telling the rest of them that?"
Looking rather pleased with himself, Snape replied, "Of course not, what difference does it make to me if the entire camp is burned down? There will undoubtedly still be survivors, and they will owe me a great debt when I arrange for a new hiding place for them."
"So they actually have something you want? That's why you've been helping them?" Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a terrible idea to stay with Snape after he left Hogwarts rather than running away. The man had more resources than anyone else he knew, with the exception of Voldemort.
The clear snap of a twig echoed through the still air, and almost immediately Snape was sweeping back through the trees, his robes making him look almost like a dementor stalking its prey. Nearly forty yards from where they had been talking, they found the source of the disturbance. A man and a woman from the camp had slowly been approaching them, probably to spy, but they hadn't stepped on the twig. Brian had been making his way through the brush toward them, and as the pair drew even with him, he stopped and stared straight up into Snape's eyes. Draco noticed for the first time that the boy's eyes were a shocking green as he glared up at the older man, but what surprised him was the coldness with which Snape gazed back at him. For a moment, there was a blaze of sheer hatred glowing on his sallow face, then Brian noticed Draco standing there and the tension was broken when he shifted his eyes. Snape took off again toward the miserable dwelling of the resistance, but Draco stayed right where he was.
Brian had inherited his mother's hair color, but the way it was sprouting out in every direction couldn't all be because he wasn't taking care of it, and there was absolutely no mistaking those eyes. The boy certainly wasn't four years old yet, which could only mean that Ginny had been pregnant when Harry left to face Voldemort. He didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him earlier just who Brian's father must have been.
Collecting himself again, he stepped around the child and headed back to the cabin. Both the witch and wizard had a hand inside their robes, presumably on their wands, and he wasn't sure he could confront both of them. It would be better to slip off when no one was paying attention to him.
The moment he was inside, he noticed that Snape had already passed back through the fireplace while the rest of the group was making their way to the table where Mrs. Weasley was now handing out bowls of soup with Ron's help. He almost started walking with everyone else, but firmly dug his heels into the ground as he decided that he would rather starve than accept food from Ron or his mother. As his stomach battled with his mind over this decision, something poked him very hard in the thigh. Vera was standing at his side with two bowls in her hands, one of which she held up for him to take.
He gave an indistinct grunt of gratitude as he lifted the bowl out of her hands, but she wasn't done with him yet. Before he could stop her, she had grabbed his pointer finger and was leading him obstinately toward the same bed that he had first seen her in. Draco paused when he saw Brian already sitting there with his bowl of soup, but Vera wasn't taking no for an answer. When she had finally led him to the bed, she banged a tiny little fist against his leg, which he assumed was an order to sit down. Well, he was better off sitting with the kids than with any of the adults. Perhaps seeing him around them would take some of the suspicion away from him. Turning his back to the fire, he slumped onto the bed next to Brian.
At least once he began eating, they concentrated on their food rather than him, although out of the corner of his eye he was now studying Vera. Just like Brian, it was her hair that really gave away her parentage. That bushiness couldn't all be due to humidity, especially since it wasn't really that muggy out. Automatically, his eyes darted around the room in search of Hermione. He was surprised he hadn't seen her yet, but the longer he searched, the more clear it became to him that she must have gone the same way as the majority of the Weasleys.
Throwing caution to the winds, he asked lightly, "Where's your mother?"
Rather than looking sad or confused, she just shrugged indifferently. "Dunno."
"Where do you get off talking to my daughter?" Ron's voice came from directly behind him, but rather than hitting him again, Ron leaned forward and picked Vera up again. "You don't need to be talking to him, do you understand?" he asked Vera pointedly, although she just looked grumpy at having been pulled away from her new friend. The moment they were out of sight, Ginny appeared. He expected her to do the same as her brother and remove her son from his presence as quickly as possible, but instead she sat on the bed across from them.
"I see the kids have taken a liking to you," she commented quietly, glancing at her son, who hadn't done anything of the sort. He probably would have sat quietly next to anyone who happened to be near him.
"Lucky me," he muttered sardonically, swallowing the last of his soup and setting the bowl to the side.
"Do you ever say something without being sarcastic?" she asked bitterly. "I know your type don't have any manners, but you could at least do us the courtesy of pretending."
His brow furrowed in exasperation. "My type? You don't know anything about my type. You don't even know what my type is."
Setting her bowl aside as well, although she was far from being finished, she clasped her hands politely in her lap and looked at him with a face of purely mocking attentiveness. "Then by all means, explain to me just what kind of person you are."
"I don't owe you any explanation," he sneered. "You're holding me here against my will."
"It's not like you're being locked in a cage. Do you really think we'd be that lucky if we walked into one of your camps?"
Deciding that he would be better off not answering, he abruptly changed the topic. "Where am I sleeping tonight? I'm not expected to sleep on one of these, am I?" he asked as he studied the bed he was sitting on distastefully. "I don't fancy falling that distance in the middle of the night, but I also don't like the thought of someone landing on me."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't know what the elders will do with you for tonight, but if you don't like what we have here, you can sleep outside."
He leered at her. "Maybe I will." Picking up his bowl, he headed straight for the door, his eyes automatically flicking toward the sky. He couldn't see the sun through the trees, but he thought he detected a shadow of pink on the western horizon. If Snape was right, he would have to get out of here soon. Glancing furtively around to see if anyone was watching him, he began to walk carefully toward the woods again. There was no time like the present, after all.