The Manor was full.
When Evanna had arrived home, she had braced herself for a confrontation with her father. Instead, she had been curtly informed by Bellatrix that her father was on the Continent, negotiating with the Bulgarian Ministry to if not side with them in the coming war, to at least stay out of it.
And he had left Evanna in charge.
Malfoy Manor had been transformed from an old money estate into a war camp, full of all manner of unsavory sorts. Evanna had almost immediately called Narcissa and Professor Snape to come and stay, even as her birth mother turned her nose up at her request. As soon as they had arrived, Evanna had brought them into what she had taken to referring to as her parlor and asked Professor Snape to help her set the strongest privacy wards as they could manage.
"This is a test," Professor Snape said almost immediately once the three were positive that they would not be overheard.
Evanna resisted the urge to something as lower class as to roll her eyes. "That much is obvious. The question is what is he testing?"
"He could have learned of your involvement at the end of term," Narcissa warned. "He's testing to see where your loyalties lie."
"I agree that the Dark Lord is suspicious of your loyalties, but if he know what you did in the Ministry, he would not be leaving you in charge of his entire force," Professor Snape said.
"He can't be gone for long. It's likely I will have no cause to give any order," Evanna said.
"Doing nothing would make him more suspicious than if you threw a party for the Headmaster," the professor said derisively.
"The Dark Lord wanted you to be his perfect second in command," Narcissa said quietly. "So do that."
Evanna looked down. How was she supposed to do such a thing? Murder a one year old? Torture an innocent who had no idea their world existed?
"I can't do anything that would hurt Harry," she said softly. "Or anyone else who is innocent."
She could practically hear the glass breaking from all the objects her professor wanted to throw in that moment, but he restrained himself. She felt more than watched Narcissa squeeze his shoulder. So she decided to make it worse.
"You've no right to lecture me on dangerous loves, Severus, so spare me that."
Her professor broke away from Narcissa, pacing to the window, long fingers massaging his temples. Her mother seemed torn on which one to go to at that moment. Finally she went to Evanna, clasping her hands, stilling Evanna's fingers from where they had been nervously picking at a stray thread on the couch in front of her.
"What goals do you have that matches with your father?" Narcissa said.
Evanna bit her lip, turning the thought over in her mind. She thought of the little boy in the orphanage, hated by his caregivers and terrified by the explosions in his city. She thought of the green-eyed child hated and derided by his family, not knowing his importance in a world he did not know existed. And she knew what she wanted, how she would right her father's movement that had taken such a Dark turn.
"I don't want another magical child growing up the way my father did," she said. "We need the names of all magical children being raised by muggles."
Professor Snape jerked from his position, robes whipping aggressively around his ankles.
"This has the potential to go very, very wrong, Evanna," he said.
"Or it could go right," she pushed. "Argo Pyrites still sits on the Board of Governors, yes? Lucius always referred to him as one of the old crowd."
Narcissa frowned. "Argo avoided most of the fighting of the first war, though I know he funded may of the Dark Lord's causes. He spoke often of a sort of primary school, to educate muggle-borns on their place in the world before sending them to Hogwarts. It was never passed because Dumbledore's influence."
"He said that the removal of children from their blood relatives was abhorrent," Professor Snape said.
"Do you agree with him?" Evanna pressed.
"When I was younger, I fully believed magical children should only be raised by magical parents," he said darkly. "I have since learned not to deal in absolutes."
Evanna knew he was thinking of Lucius' treatment of her, but there seemed to be more behind his words, especially as Narcissa took his hand and squeezed it in comfort.
"Tell Pyrites that the Dark Lady requires the Hogwarts Book of Names," she said. "I want a full audit of the living situations of magical children living in a home with muggles."
"You're effectively asking for a list of young muggleborns to be made by a Death Eater," he said. "This could go very, very wrong."
Evanna pursed her lips. She could be putting a list of targets into the hands of a dangerous man. But then, she knew very well that any one of her father's more influential followers may already have such a list. But she did not.
"Tell him then that I want a meeting… That as a student of Hogwarts I have a vested interest in protecting current and future students from being caught in the crosshairs of this war," she said. "Tell him I am also concerned as to the living situations of the most vulnerable students."
Narcissa had a look on her face that was caught somewhere between fear and pride. Professor Snape looked just as dour as usual.
"If you don't learn to be more careful, you'll get yourself killed," he growled.
Evanna did her best to smile. "How could that happen when I have my Potions Master looking out for me?"
"I am no longer Potions Master at Hogwarts," he said. "The Headmaster feared I had too much influence over Harry Potter."
Evanna felt her heart stop. "You-you mean you won't be at Hogwarts anymore?"
It was unthinkable, going to Hogwarts, being near Professor Dumbledore without any sort of protection. She was almost tempted to owl her father then and there, to tell him she would train under him until she came of age, that it would no longer be safe for her to learn in Dumbledore's school, but… But Harry. What would Harry do in that school with only Dumbledore looking out for his safety? He would be dead within the year, a sacrificial lamb on which the entirety of the Wizarding World rested their hopes-
Professor Snape's lip curled. "My replacement refused to take on the additional responsibility of Head of House. Currently, there are very few Slytherin alum the Headmaster trusts more than myself, so I am privileged to retain that position. For now."
The fear that had coiled in Evanna relaxed, if only slightly. The professor rose an eyebrow.
"Do not let that fool you," he said. "None of us is safe. Dumbledore barely trusts me, your father even less so."
"Tell Mr. Pyrites I expect him for tea on Friday," she said, showing more confidence than she felt. Something told her she would be putting on such a front for a while, at least until this war was at an end if not longer. "If he has previous plans, he will rearrange them for his Dark Lady."
Draco POV
Draco despised the hot. His shirts clung to his skin uncomfortably and Egypt's Ministry was far more strict than England's about underage magic, so he could not even cast a cooling charm if it did not directly apply to his studies. The sun, too, he hated. It beat down on him almost constantly when he was outside and he could hardly go outdoors for more than fifteen minutes without his skin becoming bright pink and tender to the touch.
"You must stay on your best behavior," his mother had warned him while they waited on the Portkey to take him to Cairo.
"Yes, I know, Mother," he had told her, resenting being treated like a small child.
"You don't understand what Severus has sacrificed to get you out of the country," she had pressed. "Dumbledore did not appreciate losing his spy on the Dark Lord's heir."
The way she had said it had made Draco squirm with guilt he did not appreciate feeling.
"I never gave him any important information anyway," he had mumbled. His mother gave him a look that reminded him she, too, had been a Slytherin, one of three sisters Black, a force to be reckoned with before decades with a cruel husband had diminished her. She seemed to be regaining that old steel.
"You should know better than to make such deals," she had told him. "As it stands, you must keep your head done. Please your masters in Egypt, learn all that you can."
"Yes, Mother," he told her. "I will write to you when I am settled."
Without warning, his mother's blue eyes watered and she looked down, grasping his hand tight enough to leave a bruise.
"That is the other thing, my son," she murmured. "We do not believe the Dark Lord will search for you…. But even so. It is best attention not be brought to where you have gone. You must limit your correspondence, especially to anyone associated to the Dark Lord."
Draco had been afraid before. The way his mother was acting now had him terrified.
"But Mother-"
"No more time, dear," she said, kissing his cheek and then his forehead before squeezing him in a tight embrace. "Be excellent, Draco. Stay safe."
So that was how Draco found himself in Cairo, Egypt, the sun slowly burning him from the inside out, unable to contact his family or his friends-fake or real-or even able to write to his Gryffindor girlfriend. She had once been to Egypt, he remembered. Perhaps she knew how to stay cool.
What a fall from grace Draco Malfoy had experienced since the Dark Lord's return. The way his father had once spoken of it when Draco and Evanna were still children, Draco had expected to be treated as a prince when the Dark Lord returned. His sister was now the Dark Lady, but Draco was no more than an exile, his father disgraced and executed.
Draco realized he had been walking for a rather long time when he realized he did not quite know where he was anymore. Nor did he know Arabic to find his way back to the alchemist's lab, nor who might be safe to ask for such directions. Cairo did not have a Diagon Alley like London did; instead, magical spaces were integrated into muggle places, usually places of learning or healing. The alchemist-Abasi Mostafa-kept his lab in the basement of a muggle university building.
Draco pushed the urge to perform a point-me charm to the very bottom of his mind. His mother's warnings to behave had kept him from using any magic, no matter how hot or lost he was, and from sending any letters, no matter how pathetically lonely. He would just have to find his way back.
Noticing a stall full of scarves and jewelry so fine magic must have been involved, Draco decided he would have to ask for help. Of course, the stall-keep had to be a beautiful girl with olive skin and ebony hair.
"Erm," Draco coughed awkwardly, doing his best to remember the Arabic phrases he had memorized at the end of the term. "Wa 'alayku-"
The girl giggled and shook her head. "It is okay. I can speak English."
"Oh thank Merlin," Draco muttered. She giggled again.
"I have met many tourists," she said. "But I have never heard that phrase-who is this Merlin you thank?"
Draco felt his face burn even more than it already had that day, and he glanced down at the amulets in front of him. He brushed over a golden eye of Horus, encrusted with semi-precious red stones. He felt a pang of longing for red hair and a razor wit.
"This is meant for protection, yes?" he said.
"Yes, though it may not help your problem," the girl said, her accent thicker with her amusement. Draco looked up, nervous as to what she may mean.
"Oh? And you know my problem?"
"The entire street knows your problem," she said, laughing again. "You have walked past my booth four times and you are a red-faced foreigner. You are completely lost."
Draco pursed his lips. "I suppose I could take my business elsewhere."
"You could not afford that. It is solid gold."
"I could afford the entire case," he countered. "Of course, I am sure that sub-par trinkets are up and down this street."
"These are no trinkets!" the girl said, her voice rising in anger. Draco nearly smirked. "No other stall has produced the real thing in a thousand years!"
So there was magic involved. Good.
"So you are telling me this is the real thing? These amulets will provide protection?" he pressed. Her mouth opened wide and then snapped shut with a popping sound. "It's quite alright if you tell me-I am a student of Ustaaz Mostafa."
Her eyes widened. She knew who he was talking about.
"I will take this one," he said, doing his best not to picture how lovely it might look on Ginny.
"You must be afraid of something to pay so much to keep yourself safe," she said as he laid out the proper amount of money.
"I am perfectly safe here," he said. "I'm sending this back home."
The girl glanced over him and smiled. "She must be special." Draco did not say anything. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Erm, yes actually," Draco admitted. "Do you know the way back to Al-Azhar University?"
The girl laughed again. "I knew you were lost!"
She quickly gave Draco directions to the university and he walked away from the booth clutching the pendant close.
"Kaptin Malfoy-'ayn kunt-you were supposed to come back!" the alchemist said as Draco re-entered the workroom. "Ah, a present I presume?"
"An amulet," Draco admitted. The alchemist's eyes lost some of their mischievous twinkle.
"Even here we have heard of Wizarding England's civil war," he said. "You made a wise decision to stay away from it. You would do well not to go back if what our friend told me is true."
Draco was not sure anyone in England had ever so casually referred to Severus Snape as a friend.
"I want to stay away from it, efendim," Draco said. "But there's… there's a girl who is braver than I am."
Abasi Mostafa grimaced in sympathy, clapping a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I will help you send her this then. But do not make a habit of it."
Draco nodded, breathing a little easier than he had in weeks.
A/N: Excuse my terrible Arabic. I only know a handful of phrases, and I learned from a guy from Saudi Arabia, not from Egypt. If anyone knows better than what I was able to google, please correct me.