These precious illusions in my head
Did not let me down when I was a kid
And parting with them is like parting
With a childhood best friend

- Alanis Morrisette, Precious Illusions

"Hershey's kisses," Snape said sourly to the gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office. There was a momentary pause, and then it rumbled aside, revealing both a twisted spiral staircase and the sounds of a loud and furious argument. His part done, Snape nodded to Draco and then stalked off down the hall, his cape flapping behind him.

Draco took a step forward and craned his neck, trying to see the top of the stairs. The voices were definitely his parents' – his mother was pleading, and his father was angry – but he couldn't make out what they were actually saying. He was pretty sure, however, that the argument couldn't possibly be a result of his exchange with Granger on the train. Neither of them would have gotten so worked up about something like that. Something else was wrong here.

"Hey, kid," said the gargoyle. "Are you going, or not?"

"Don't call me 'kid'," Draco told it. "I happen to be Head Boy."

"Oh, do excuse me." The gargoyle rolled its stone eyes.

Draco started up the stairs – as he climbed the voices became clearer. His name was mentioned repeatedly, as were those of his aunts, Bellatrix and Andromeda... what did they have to do with this? Draco had never actually met either of them; one had died before he was born, and the other had been in Azkaban until two years ago and hiding from the aurors ever since. Whatever the problem was, though, Lucius and Narcissa were both being terribly vehement about it. Even the portraits Draco was passing as he climbed seemed a bit unnerved.

"I don't think it was anything you did, young man," a witch in a lacy Elizabethan collar offered helpfully.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, though it wasn't reassuring. Whatever it was, it involved him somehow or other. Was he about to be taken out of school? He hoped not.

At the top of the steps, he paused in the doorway, wanting to get a slightly better idea what was happening in the room before going in. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, looking as though he had a headache. All around, portraits, photographs, and Fawkes the phoenix were silent, staring openly at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. They were standing in the middle of the room, the former furious and the latter in tears, screaming at each other about things that made no sense to Draco at all.

"I don't care what she said!" Narcissa wailed. "For Merlin's sake, Lucius! Bella's had a grudge against me for twenty years! She murdered Andy! Do you really think she's above lying if she wants to ruin me?"

"If it's a lie," Lucius said, "then why were you so violently opposed to my coming here? Come to that, why have you always been trying to stifle the boy! I've always thought it was half as if you were afraid he wouldn't be magical!"

Both were entirely oblivious to Draco's entrance – the first one to notice him was Dumbledore. The headmaster held up a hand, motioning for Draco to stay where he was, then cleared his throat loudly. When it had no effect, he stood up, took out his wand, and declared, "silencio!"

The Malfoys abruptly stopped arguing as the silencing charm took hold. Dumbledore gestured towards Draco standing in the doorway.

"Well," he said. "Lucius, Narcissa; I understand that this is a deeply upsetting situation to you both. But I would greatly appreciate it if you could discuss it in what I believe Professor Sprout calls 'our indoor voices'. I'm sure Draco would be prefer that, too."

Both Malfoys turned and looked at their son, and Draco suddenly wanted to hide. All of a sudden he missed the silence... it might be terribly tense around Malfoy Manor when his parents refused to acknowledge one another, but he'd rather that than having to listen to them fight. And anything would be better than knowing that his father's fury was about to be turned on him.

Dumbledore lifted the silencing charm. "Now," he said, "could we..."

Before he could finish the sentence, Lucius had his own wand out. "Settle this?" he asked. "Indeed – we can." He turned to Draco, who very nearly obeyed his first instinct and dashed right back down the stairs... and perhaps he should have done exactly that, because Lucius aimed his wand at his son's face and barked, "reverto!"

The spell hit Draco so hard it shoved him back against the wall... which made no sense. 'Reverto' was nothing but a simple revealing charm. It shouldn't have had a violent effect on anyone, unless they were hiding something enormous. But it almost could have been a mild curse; his head spun, and his vision faded to gray and then to black. He couldn't balance, couldn't see, couldn't breathe... his skin stung, and his insides felt as if they were being tied in knots. He stumbled backwards and sat down hard, fortunately managing to hit the carpet instead of falling down the stairs. And then... then it was suddenly over, and he was sitting there panting and dizzy but all right. Nothing felt different...

But something must have been, because everybody else in the room reacted to it. Dumbledore stood up suddenly, eyes wide. The portraits gasped in unison – it would have been funny if Draco had actually had any idea what was going on – Narcissa collapsed, sobbing, into a chair, and Lucius strode over to sieze Draco by the collar and drag him roughly to his feet.

"Whose son is this?" he demanded, shoving Draco at Narcissa.

"I don't know!" she wailed, covering her face with both hands.

"You don't even know!" Lucius pushed Draco aside, letting him fall onto the carpet again. "You lie to me for seventeen years, and then when I want the truth you can't even tell me the name of your lover?"

"I never had one!" Narcissa protested. "I never had an affair, Lucius, I swear. I swear! Please, you have to believe me – what Bella told you was a lie, and..."

"Then how do you explain this?" Lucius pointed one furiously shaking finger at Draco. "Go ahead – I'm dying to hear it!"

"I..." Narcissa looked at Dumbledore.

The headmaster sat back and held up both hands. "If you would rather not discuss the matter in front of me, feel free to count me out."

"Thank you," said Narcissa, and cast a spell to put a soundproof bubble around herself and her family. "Draco," she said, turning to her son, "I am so sorry... I love you so much, and..."

"Just explain," snarled Lucius.

"What just happened?" asked Draco.

"You don't talk," Lucius snapped at him. "Narcissa, I am waiting."

Narcissa took a deep breath. "While you were in Azkaban," she said quietly. "While I was expecting Draco. I went to see Bella, to receive the Dark Mark like you told me to, but the Death Eaters wanted to do it right then, and I was worried about it harming the baby. And for some reason..." she shut her eyes, keeping her head down to avoid even the possibility of eye contact with Lucius "For some reason, Bella thought it was an excuse, she accused me of being a spy. They had some Muggles locked up, people who'd come too close, I don't know what they were doing with them, but one of them was a woman who was also pregnant. And Bella said if I didn't take the Mark, she'd trade my baby for the Muggle woman's, and when it was born you would think I'd betrayed you, and you'd abandon me."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again when he realized he really had nothing to say. What was she telling them? Was she trying to say that... but that couldn't be true!

"So you didn't take the mark after all," said Lucius, narrowing his eyes.

"I was going to!" Narcissa told him. "I was! But then the Dark Lord fell, and there was no time for that or to trade the babies back. That's why they let me out, because I could show them I didn't have it. If things hadn't worked out as they did, we'd both have spent the next fifteen years in prison! But I couldn't tell the mediwitches, and I knew if I told you, you wouldn't believe me, so I cast a glamour charm... that's what you just removed, and... I'm so sorry, Lucius, maybe it was the wrong thing to do but it was the only thing I could. You have to believe me." She wiped her eyes and turned to Draco. "Draco," she said quietly, "you're not our son. We don't have a son. We had a daughter – I saw her once. I don't know who your parents are, but I just thought I'd have to be the best mother to you that I could, and..."

"You saw her once?" Lucius interrupted sharply. "You saw our daughter with Muggles, and you didn't try to get her back?"

"Once!" said Narcissa. "And yes, with Muggles. What was I supposed to do? The ministry wiped their memories – they wouldn't remember being prisoners. What was I supposed to do, just go and tell this poor woman that her daughter is really mine and she's the mother of my son? Was I supposed to cast a memory charm on every person the girl had come in contact with? Think about it, Lucius! I couldn't..."

Lucius slapped her. She cried out and took a stumbling step backwards, and the bubble charm dissolved. For a moment, Draco wanted to help her, then he decided it would be a bad idea, and then... Merlin, he couldn't even think straight. What was going on? This had to be a bad dream. His mother couldn't possibly have told him that he'd had a glamour charm on him his entire life and was really the child of Muggles. That was just stupid. What was everybody going to say?

"So," said Lucius. "Where is our child now?"

Narcissa looked at him as if afraid he'd hit her again. When he didn't, she stood up straight and shifted her shoulders to rearrange her clothing, then wiped her eyes and swallowed hard before speaking. "I don't know," she said. "I saw her once. I don't know what happened to her after that. I don't know if she ever got a letter from Hogwarts, and I don't know if her p... if the Muggles let her go if she did."

"Well," Lucius said coldly, "in that case, I suggest you figure out how to find her."

"We could look," said Narcissa miserably. "The glamour charm was reciprocal. I thought I could protect both of them. If it's broken on Draco, it'll be broken on our daughter, too."

Draco looked at each parent in turn, but Lucius was focused on Narcissa, and Narcissa was plainly too terrified of Lucius to say anything more to her son. The only other possible source of help in the room was Dumbledore. Draco caught the headmaster's eye, and in reply, Dumbledore gestured towards Fawkes. There was a mirror hung on the wall next to the phoenix' perch, so that the vain bird could admire it's reflection. Draco took a deep breath, and edged over to take a look in the mirror.

What he saw was the face of a stranger. The boy in the mirror looked like he was a little shorter than Draco Malfoy; his Slytherin robes seemed a bit big on him. He had a rounder, younger-looking face than Draco was used to, with fuller lips and heavier eyebrows. His eyes were dark brown, as was his hair, which fell in messy curls to his shoulders. He could hardly have looked less like Draco Malfoy... but Draco's mounting horror intensified a hundred-fold as he realized that the boy nevertheless looked rather familiar.

"Oh, holy hell," he said out loud. "Is that me?" he pointed to the mirror and looked at Dumbledore, who nodded. "Holy hell," Draco repeated. "I... look like Granger."

"Granger?" Lucius said sharply, talking for the first time to Draco instead of about him. "The Gryffindor Mudblood? Potter's friend?"

Draco didn't answer. This was so ridiculous. His mother had dropped to her knees on the floor and was sitting there, weeping silently. Draco rather wanted to join her.

"Get Miss Granger up here," Lucius told Dumbledore. "Now."

The headmaster steepled his fingers. "Something tells me," he replied, "that she is already on her way."