Metamorphosis: A Story of Maturing
Chapter 2: In which Draco makes the smartest decision of his life, and Remus Lupin gets pushed around by a redhead with an attitude.

Draco knew he was about to be punished. Expelled. Maybe even sent to Azkaban. He was really in trouble this time; the evidence was irrefutable and Dumbledore had always been looking for a reason to bring the Malfoy family down.

Dumbledore was peering at Draco rather than the letter that was on his desk. Draco felt rather exposed under his gaze, and found it difficult to sit still; fidgeting uneasily and letting his eyes wander around the surprisingly messy office of the Hogwarts' Headmaster.

Although he had never been to this office before, he had a feeling that it had been rather hastily pieced back together from an occasion similar to a bomb detonation. Whether this impression was from the fact that all save one of the portraits on the wall were crooked, or that there were still pieced of glass embedded in the carpet beside the bookshelf to the right, he didn't know.

His eyes traveled to the floor, desperately trying to avoid meeting the professor's eyes. He could see some un-identified brownish stains on the carpet, just beneath his chair. 'You would think the Headmaster at least would keep his own office clean…'

He chanced a look at the silent professor, but immediately looked down when he met his eyes. They sat in an awkward silence for several minutes.

Dumbledore let out a soft breath which echoed like a shout in the quite room. Draco visibly flinched.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy. What am I to make of this letter?"

Draco did not respond. He thought it was blatantly obvious what the letter meant.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore's voice was not impatient. "I must ask you to explain this from your perspective." Draco looked up and glared, making brief eye contact with the professor. "Tell me, Draco."

"You know perfectly well what the letter means," he spat out. Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, not at all defeated by his animosity. "I'm sure you knew I would be getting one, as well. Omniscient Dumbledore, they say, he who sees everything. I'm sure you know all about my misgivings and—" He cut himself off abruptly, and slid back down in his seat.

That last bit had slipped past unintentionally. Draco had no misgivings.

"I am quite sure I know what the letter says, Mr. Malfoy. What I am asking you is, what does it mean to you?"

'A total loss of free will,' thought Draco. But he said nothing. Dumbledore didn't seem to be deterred. In fact, he seemed to just be getting started "Do you think it means you will be powerful? Or will you lose yourself to something you have no control over?" Draco wondered if Dumbledore could read minds.

"It's all very easy for you to say," Draco said. "There is no letter for you, no certain threat of death no matter what you chose. If I chose my father and Lord Voldemort," He checked to see if Dumbledore flinched; he didn't, "then I lose all free will, and possibly freedom as well, I know you'll send me to Azkaban. You would, I'm sure, in a second. And if I chose not to follow my orders, I'll be dead as soon as I step off the train on the way back home. Possibly even before that." Draco was aware, in some part of his mind that he was now standing and shouting, though he wasn't sure how this had come to be. He hadn't even realized himself how strongly he was considering stepping away from the Dark Lord.

"That may not be true."

"Who do you think you're fooling?" Draco roared at him, "If I don't show up for this initiation, Pettigrew will tell Him that I've deflected, and there will be an ambush waiting for me the second I am within range of a curse. In fact, it might not wait until after the term is over, as some of my house mates are far surer of their loyalties than I am. It's one death or the other, and to me, neither seems any less terrible. And it's not like you know how I feel. Don't pretend that you know what I think. You don't know what's going on in my head. You don't understand what I'm going through."

Dumbledore was painfully aware that this was the second time in a week that he had a student of his in his office, with emotions running high and so much at stake.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore's tone had become slightly clipped. "I am sure you know that you are speaking rubbish. As you are most likely well aware, I, and the majority of your teachers, live in the centre of this war. I do not pretend to think that you will see reason here; only that I might help fight for yourself. If you will open your eyes, Mr. Malfoy, I think you will find that you are not the only one who is in danger."

Draco felt very small. If he had had a tail, he thought, it was definitely stepped on now. Dumbledore put his hands on his desk, and leaned forward across the surface.

"Mr. Malfoy, no matter what, I will give you protection from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, where I can hide you, your father will never find you. If you chose not to go with those who kill, I can take you to those who will keep you safe. I have a place for you; I can save you from this." His voice was lowered to a fierce whisper. "I can help you. Please, let me help you."

"I'm not going to fight for you, old man." Draco said. "Your manipulations will never force me to fight against what I think is right."

"Draco…" Dumbledore was grasping at straws. "I don't ask you to fight for me. This is a chance for you to fight not for me, not for Voldemort, not for your father, not for what you think you ought to. This is a chance to fight for you. This is your last chance." His voice was barely a whisper now, but it was filled with the same resolve as a shout.

Dumbledore held Draco's gaze in a pregnant pause, until Draco let his eyes drop.

"Where can you hide me?"

Professor Dumbledore's back straightened from leaning over the desk, and his face looked thirty years younger. "There are many choices where I might hide you. I could keep you here at Hogwarts for the summer, though I think you would be awfully lonely. The same goes for my house in Bristol. I could send you to my brother Aberforth's, but I think he might prove a bit eccentric for you. Professor Snape would also, I'm sure, considering the circumstances, be happy to allow you into his home. However, I believe the safest place for you, if certain parties do not object, would be Headquarters." His eyes began to twinkle.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I think you will be spending your summer at Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore pulled out a sheaf of parchment and a quill, and caught Draco's eye, smiling in a manner which reminded Draco of the time when he had caught one of the Weasley twins eyes after they had turned his hair pink after his first Quidditch match. It made him rather uneasy. "Does that seem alright to you?"

Draco nodded. "Sir, maybe I ought to go to bed now." As Dumbledore allowed him to leave, he had the inexplicable urge to check his reflection in the mirror. Strangely, he was not at all comforted by the fact that his hair was still the same silvery blond.

Meanwhile, back in his office, Dumbledore finished up his letter. He smoothed his beard down and tied the letter to Fawkes' leg, firmly reminding the bird that no one was to intercept this letter. As the phoenix disappeared in a burst of flames, Dumbledore couldn't help but smile. This should be an interesting summer, he thought, an interesting summer indeed.

Remus Lupin had not been asleep when Fawkes had arrived.

Sleep was far too dangerous for him now; nightmares plagued him and tears offered him no comfort from his loss. He knew Harry was suffering more, with the consecutive loss of any parental figure, but it didn't dull the pain of losing the last person whom you could really count as a friend.

So, when Fawkes arrived at 1:30 in the morning, he wasn't nearly as irritated with the bird as he could have been. He shuffled out of bed, not bothering with his worn slippers, and drowsily took the letter. Rubbing his eyes, he almost dropped the letter when he read it:

Dear Remus,

Since the death Sirius Black, possession of Grimmauld Place has been passed to you, as specified in his will. Therefore, I find it only fitting to ask your permission before promising a certain someone sanctuary there. This evening I was awoken by a shout of indignation from the gargoyle that guards my office, apparently, it had been kicked quite hard. When I went down to the hall, you can't imagine how surprised I was to see Draco Malfoy.

After conversing for several minutes, I learned that Draco had been ordered to meet Pettigrew at a certain place in order to be fully initiated into Voldemort's service. He was having second thoughts, and I have managed to convince him not to go. It is a great relief to have perhaps done something right in these last few days. Draco, however, seeks protection from his father this summer, and I could think of no safer place than Headquarters. If you do no object, then I would like to bring Mr. Malfoy there in about a week. If you do not wish to give this protection, then I am sure that other resources may be sought after, but I can think of no place safer than HQ.

If you have no objections, then please owl me back as soon as possible; if you do have objections, do the same. I apologize for the inconvenient hour, but this must be dealt with as soon as possible.

-Albus

Remus was in shock. That Stupid Malfoy? The Pratt? There was no way he would let that scum into his home for the summer. Remus slammed the note on his bedside table, and retuned to his bed. He was thoroughly put out by Dumbledore, even if he hadn't been sleeping, and felt that his holiness could wait until morning. Eventually, Remus drifted off to a fitful sleep, with dreams of sweeping black veils and screams of terror.

But Remus had reckoned his resolve against Dumbledore without one important factor; When he had stumbled downstairs the next morning to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, he had sleepily nodded as Molly Weasley bustled up stairs telling him that she would be turning his sheets that day.

Finding his vigor in the bottom of a cup of coffee, he drew himself out of his sleepless stupor just in time to hear Mrs. Weasley shriek.

"REMUS LUPIN! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME I WOULD NEED TO PREPARE FOR ANOTHER BOY THIS SUMMER! WHAT am I supposed to do? We have a week to prepare for him, and I haven't even got a set of sheets!" Remus was confused, until he saw Molly standing at the top of the stairs, waving Dumbledore's letter in her hand. He groaned.

"Molly, you didn't read that letter, did you?" His voice was hopeless.

"Of course I did, Remus, dear. I'm not really looking forward to the little rat's being here, but if he needs a safe place then I understand." Molly's maternal instincts kicked in. She would protect any defenseless child that came her way.

"Molly, I wasn't really planning on—"

"And we need to see if the other boys will room with him. I daresay we don't have enough rooms for them all to be by themselves, so Ron will just have to deal with it." She continued on to herself.

And so the matter of where Draco Malfoy would be spending the summer was decided, much to the chagrin of Remus Lupin, who, recognizing defeat, walked upstairs to write a letter to Dumbledore and a letter to Harry. Oh dear, thought Lupin, Harry wasn't going to be pleased about this.

Well, how d'ya like that? I'd like to think that actually turned out well. : )
Don't get spoiled by the speedy update, please, I'm going out of town in a few days, and there shouldn't be any more updates till like the 20th. Or maybe later depending on how everything goes. But this chapter is a bit longer to make up for it, so...sorry in advance.

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