Chapter 9: Consequences

"Mr. Malfoy," a sharp voice voice yelled from behind Draco, telling him he was in trouble. Draco turned to face Professor McGonagall. "Come with me this instant!" she commanded, fire almost leaping from her suddenly brilliant brown eyes, before turning and hurrying forward. Still bleeding heavily, Draco limped after her, knowing exactly where they were headed. Dumbledore's office. It wasn't a surprise, he knew his actions had consequences, but if the headmaster wanted an apology from Draco, a drop of remorse even, Dumbledore would be waiting for eternity. Beating Harry Potter was the best thing Draco had ever done, regardless of the damage. Relieving some of the built up pressure from the last 7 years was actually therapeutic, Draco found, and he reminded himself to conjur a punching bag in the shape of Potter when he was done being punished.

They stopped in front of the familiar gargoyle, Draco had been brought hear many times before. This wasn't anything new. Professor whipped her arm around and pointed sharply at the stairs, "He's expecting you," she said through lips that looked tighter then her perfect bun.

"As usual," Draco said dully, as if he might fall asleep standing up at any moment.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, obviously having to control the level of her voice, "you underestimating the seriousness of what you have done. I think you'll be surprised with this meeting, it won't end in another detention, I can promise you that."

Draco glared at her, she was trying to take away Draco's happiness. He wouldn't let her. She could not ruin his elation with her veiled threats. He stepped onto the staircase and was immediately pulled upward until Draco was infront of the large oak doors. He raised his hand to knock, but heard the "come in," from the old man inside before he could do so. Draco grunted. Dumbledore thinks he's so clever, thinks he can scare us with his oh so mystical power, Draco thought to himself as he entered the cluttered office.

Dumbledore, who was sitting at his desk, gestured to the wooden chair for Draco to sit down in. Draco lowered himself in the straight-backed chair and stared the head master straight in the eye, as if nothing could phase him.

"Mr. Potter was hurt quite badly." Dumbledore stopped, searching Draco's face with his pale eyes. Draco blinked. "He said that you started the trouble."

"Of course he did," Draco said simply, slumping in his chair a little and allowing his eyes to wander.

"Do you deny it?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," Draco said.

"So it was entirely your fault?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Entirely," Draco replied tonelessly.

Dumbledore stared at him, studying Draco's stone expression. "I'm afraid I have little choice then," he said slowly, as if hoping Draco would interrupt and give him a reason to stop. But he didn't. "I have no other choice then to suspend you for two weeks starting tomorrow." Again Dumbledore waited for some sign of objection, but all Draco said was, "Are we done now?"

Dumbledore sighed in disappointed, but Draco could care less.

"Yes," the frail wizard said. "Pack your things tonight, you will leave first thing tomorrow morning. Your homework will be owled to you each day."

Draco rose to his feet and exited the office without another word. So what? He could suffer at home just as well as he could suffer at Hogwarts. They were just places. But somehow, Draco didn't think it would be so bad this time. He still had the image of Potter flat on his back, looking up at him with terrified eyes, and that simple picture would keep him through anything his mother or father put him through in the next two weeks.

That stupid old man, Draco thought to himself, scowling as he walked briskly through the chilly halls of Hogwarts. He thinks that is a bloody punishment, but getting sent away from here is the best birthday present anyone could give me! His birthday. Draco froze. If anyone had been watching, they would have thought someone had conjured an invisible wall to block Draco's path because of his sudden stop.

Tomorrow was his birthday. His 18th in fact. Draco continued walking again, though obviously distracted by the thoughts swirling in his head. He knew it was coming soon, his initiation. Then Draco's fate would be sealed and his life would continue directly down the path he'd been born for. There was no use in trying to stop it, why would he even want to try? The Dark Lord was generous to his faithful servants, and Lucius Malfoy was one of them; Draco would be taken care of.

But the Dark Lord, Draco shuddered involuntarily and drew his cloak tigther around his front like a shield. He didn't know whether it was Voldemort's pure cruelty or his horrific shriveled form that scared him more. As a child, Draco had been told stories of Tom Riddle as a student and his transformation into the most powerful dark lord the world had ever known. Draco snorted, most kids were lulled to sleep with stories of princes saving the princess from the dragon, inducing them to dream of perfect endings and candy-paved roads. Instead of fairy tales, Draco was lectured on skinning muggles alive without getting your hands dirty, raiding villages, and how to use Unforgivable Curses to maximize pain—Lucius' form of the perfect bedtime story.

Draco shook his head as he remembered hiding wide-eyes under his Slytherin comforter after his father left the room, afraid the Dark Lord was hiding in his closet just daring Draco to come out so he could throw him in a pot of boiling water like the muggles. But he never hid when his father was around. Instead he'd bite his lips and try to duplicate the deranged grin on Lucius' face as he recounted every disgusting detail.

That was when Draco was most afraid. In his father's face he could see Lord Voldemort. Draco shuddered again as he rounded the corner to the Slytherin common room, thinking of the monster that had spawned him. For the second time since Draco left Dumbledore's office, he skidded to a hault. Draco could see a mess of red curls covering the form of a shaking girl whose head was burried in her knees on the ground just outside the Slytherin entrance.

"Ginny," Draco breathed.