Malfoy's Secret Court
Chapter 1
"Scourgify." The simple cleaning spell removed the blood from his blade instantly. Roberto adopted a grim smirk as he left the building. The small weight of the shrunken bags of Gringotts gold in his pocket filled him with a satisfaction he only received from a successful theft. Roberto Malfoy could see the morning's newspapers in his mind's eye. First successful theft at Gringotts. That was a good headline.
He apparated to a reasonable distance from town, and stuck his hands casually into his pockets. While he appeared to be someone out on an evening walk his fingers groped for something in his coat. Aha, there it was. Roberto pulled out a small cloth the size of an average handkerchief. Unfolding it, he slipped out the small pieces of metal into his other palm and threw the cloth on the ground. A few words of wand-less magic returned it to its original size. Now the length and width of a standard tent, he repeated the action on the petit tent poles.
In less then five minutes his tent had been set up. Roberto took a look around before casting some shield spells around his tent. A few more minor checks and he nodded to himself. That would do. He entered his tent and stood. Ah, the riches of a successful wizard thief were nice to have. He appreciated it now as he surveyed his apartment sized tent. He removed his shrunken pouches of gold and his trunk before returning them to their original size.
It was as he was letting loose his falcon Raistlin that he began wondering where it was that Toby had gotten off to. Roberto had let his thestral wander off for the night's job, but he should have met him at the prearranged spot already. He shook his head. He turned around and hefted one of the bags of gold over his shoulder so that he could place it in his trunk. Hearing Raistlin call him, Roberto turned once more. In the falcon's beak was the envelope he had been dreading all month. Damn Hogwarts.
He'd been getting the letter since he'd run away at the age of thirteen. How Hogwarts kept track of him at the pace with which he moved was astounding. Why did they keep sending him this letter? He was seventeen already, and there was nothing that Hogwarts could possibly teach him that he didn't already know. But it was this year that Roberto was worried about. He'd been receiving some rather impressive threats from the Dark lord. The batty ol' Headmaster at Hogwarts was the only one that Voldemort was afraid of right? So, technically, Roberto could lounge around the school, entirely safe, and not really have to put forth that much effort. If he went to school, he could live the easy life. The homework would pose no challenge.
Roberto snorted. As if. He couldn't believe he had actually considered enrolling. An indignant squawk was followed by the envelope hitting him in the back of the head. "God damn it Raistlin! What the hell was THAT for?"
The cheeky little falcon ignored him in favor of preening his already glossy feathers. Roberto frowned, but plucked the letter up from the floor and scanned the front of the envelope. What the hell, might as well look. He slid a gloved finger under the seal and tore the envelope open. Seconds later the rough parchment was in his hands, and his eyes were sweeping over the curled letters.
"Right." He snorted again. "Sounds like fun. Owl, rat, toad, or a cat? How bout a falcon?"
Raistlin glanced up from his preening and called to him. Roberto mindlessly fell back on the couch taking center stage of his living room. His hand found Raistlin and started stroking his feathers. The falcon gave a happy coo, leaning into the touch. Roberto sighed. Hoof beats from outside his tent alerted him that his happy-go-lucky death horse had arrived. A wave of his hand and the shield spells were temporarily disabled. Toby clomped inside, wings tucked against his sides. He shook his main and clambered over to his side of the room where he sank down onto a greatly enlarged doggy bed.
"Why were you late?"
Toby whinnied drowsily at him.
"Ha, likely excuse."
It was now, in his moment of peace that something unexpected happened. Before Roberto remembered to throw up the shield spells again, a gorgeous tawny owl swept into his tent. A letter clamped securely in its beak. He recognized the handwriting on the front and the seal as soon as he saw them. Roberto let out a long groan and swiped the letter from the owl. Raistlin cawed fiercely at the unwelcome visitor. Roberto didn't reprimand him either as he viciously tore open the letter and read it. Aw, his baby half brother cared about his existence. How sweet was that?
According to little Draco, Lucius was being a little hard on him. Draco hadn't given a damn about him since he had run away. Not to matter that technically Roberto wasn't a true Malfoy. In fact, he wasn't sure why he had kept the last name. In all frankness he was a Black through and through. Before his mother had gotten married to Lucius she had been raped during the war by a death eater. Narcissa having used a disguise spell the aroused man hadn't known that he had been raping his cousin.
Roberto hated remembering that fact, and it was still a raw cut now as he acknowledged the simple truth: he was a product of forced in-breeding. The child of Narcissa and Regulas Black, Roberto noticed at times that this hadn't weakened him like most muggles thought, but actually strengthened him as a wizard. With the blood of two pureblood related wizards flowing through his veins, his magic was stronger than most. There was a reason besides arrogance that wizards used to arrange cousin to cousin marriages long ago.
But technically, Draco was his brother, even if he was only half so. What most people refused to notice was that however snippy and foul Draco was on the surface, he was a strong person. The things that Draco dealt with at home were cruel and sickening. Roberto knew he shouldn't care. After all, Draco hadn't paid him any mind until daddy started getting a little rough.
Roberto threw the letter to the floor and screwed his eyes shut at the memories that flooded his mind. Images of Draco taking beatings for him the night that Roberto ran away, and inventing lies about his disappearance consumed his vision. Before he left, Roberto and Draco had been close. They had shared the burden of their father's brutal love.
"Draco, if you hold down the fort here, I can get away and scrounge up some money. I'll come back for you and then we won't ever have to deal with him again!"
"You promise Robbie?"
"Yeah."
But he hadn't gone back. He'd left Draco there to deal with it alone. Roberto groaned. He owed his brother; he had to take him away from that place. Draco hadn't asked anything of him in four long years. Why not repay his debt now? Roberto flung a tired arm over his eyes, muttering a weary accio quill. He held out a hand to grasp his implement of destruction before reaching out to take the letter back into his hands. He hesitantly raised his hand over the turned over parchment.
Meet me in the courtyard; I'll be there in two hours…
TBC…
