The walk to the blue drawing room felt long with two sets of eyes glaring at his back. When Draco opened the door, there were several persons — the professors had returned and were assessing the azure couches and cerulean chairs with an air of distaste. The gold gilding on the crown molding was a bit pretentious, but they'd been in the family for years. The drawing room had been one of the few places untouched by the horrors of the Death Eater company. The Dark Lord had preferred entertaining in the ballroom, more space for witnesses.
The fire crackled green letting in one more, the mediwitch of Hogwarts. She heaved herself out of the ashes, using the mantel for grip and marring the white paint with soot in the process. Time had been unkind to her. She looked bulkier in girth than Draco remembered, but at the same time, like a gust of wind could push her over and she'd never recover. Her wrists were so thin in comparison to her body, surely, they'd shatter under such weight, but they didn't. She rested her hands on her knees, breathing out and in with great huffs.
"Feeling better, Draco?" The charms professor asked, politely ignoring Madam Pomfrey. Behind the professor, a stack of books floated an inch off the ground. There were so many books, however, that they almost touched the ceiling. Flitwick walked up to Draco and extended his hand in greeting, the books following his steps. As they moved, they did not sway but stood perfectly stiff.
Draco took the grip and shook the hand carefully. Taking the potion had been wise. And like that, the man smiled up at Draco in trust. This would be easy. "Yes, thank you for your concern. My apologies for my rude behavior last night. I was a bit alarmed at the time and not thinking clearly."
"Completely understandable. I took some time to research the astral plane last night. I've pulled all the relevant books," the professor motioned to the stack floating behind him. He flicked his wand and they spit into multiple stacks, to be the professor's height.
There were so many. Maybe Draco could get the man to leave some behind when they left. Although judging by the excited look on the professor's face, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He was going to be stuck with these people forever, wasn't he?
The two tailing wizards walked into the room then.
"Thank you for coming, Poppy," Severus said.
"Not at all," she said, straightening her clothes and calming her breaths. "You never need to fret over asking me for a favor, Severus."
"Well, I think we had best check Draco to make sure all is in good health," Severus said, staying to the outskirts of the room and stopping to rest his hands on the back of a velvet bergère chair.
"Well shirt off then Draco, I'll have you checked in quickly," her smile was too wide, Draco knew such smiles. She minded being asked for this favor.
His arm hairs raised. "I believe I am still owed a healer's oath and privacy, am I not?"
Her smile tightened, caught. The look on Severus's face was the same. This had been planned, they wanted to poke and prod him. Professors and nurses and school and home — it didn't matter. The world was against him, and he couldn't drop his guard.
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy." She gave a nod in admission. She rose her wand and gave her oath of silence, having to stop several times for breath. The woman sounded very ill. She then motioned around the room. "Do you have a more secluded location for a checkup?"
"There is a lounge room beside this one that would suffice," Draco told her.
The fact that the room was close by seemed to cheer her up.
"Be careful Poppy. He is under the influence of the potion I described to you yesterday, doesn't seem to be able to go without it," Severus announced to the room.
Draco tensed and shot the man a glare which Severus returned. Poppy would be in more danger if he didn't have his potion. He tended to do extreme wild magic when having a fit. Greg made sure he took the potion before coming over with Madeline, so he'd be 'safe.'
The cheer the mediwitch had was now gone. She followed him though. Perhaps he should have asked for the oath after Severus had made such an announcement. Maybe he could have gotten out of the checkup altogether.
He led the woman out at her pace and into the next room. As they went in, he put privacy charms upon the room silently as they entered without a wand, as Potter still had it. He could feel her eyes upon him, they lingered on his arm where his dark mark used to be. Yes, this was a situation he'd never wanted to be in. He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension he felt building.
The room was small, the deep grey color making it seem even smaller, but there were several windows in this room that would make escape rather easy. There were only a few armchairs and several empty liquor cabinets. His father had used the room to swoon politicians, it too had never been made of use in the war except for his father to drown out the world so much his mother had to imperius him to get him to walk straight in front of the Dark Lord.
Draco made his way over the armchairs and motioned for the woman to sit.
She smiled in gratitude, giving a deep sigh as she settled in.
He sat across from her, let his fingers run across the embroidered scene of a fox hunt.
"What potion are you on," the woman took a deep breath, "is there a recipe I can see?"
At least she had more tact than Potter. He went through the recipe, not quickly as if it needed to be rushed and he didn't want her to know what it really was. Instead, he took his time articulating it, as if he'd been making the potion all his life and it should be common to every household.
Her eyes went back and forth, putting together the ingredients in her mind. As a mediwitch, she had decent knowledge of potions. Her lips pursed together.
Obviously, she didn't know what it did. He'd overestimated her abilities. He wasn't going to tell her unless she asked, and she likely wouldn't admit to it. She didn't.
When they moved onto the check up, he decided it best to be straightforward with what he expected of her. "A physical dating back a week at most."
Her cheeks puffed at being told what to do. "Very well. I'll need your shirt removed for the spell to assess physical damage."
He took off his outer robe and then his shirt.
Her eyes had been staring at the spot, so it was no surprise that her mouth opened like a giant fish. "Your mark…" Her fingers touched the scarred tissue, the rectangular patch on his arm. "You had it removed?"
Even with the potion in him, he wanted to yank back his hand. But he was good at forcing himself to do what he had to. His other hands fingers dug into the embroidered pattern, nails ripping at the threads. He kept his voice even, "Yes."
"How long ago?" she asked, quietly.
"Four years."
Her hands trailed up from the scar of the patch to longer lines around it. Scars that had been caused by his uncontrollable scratching. He'd been so desperate for its removal. He hadn't thought it through.
"You must have gone outside the country. We've been looking for years for a way to remove it, and you've known this whole time. I wonder how much it cost you." She gave a dark chuckle that ended up making her cough.
Why did she sound as if he'd been hiding the cure to all evil? No one had bothered to mention anything to him, well — he didn't really talk to anyone. Still… He was surprised no one else had found a better way. He probably would have died from blood loss had Jiffy not kept him dosed and aware enough to fix his own wound. It wouldn't be a repeatable process, and there was no way he would ever carve another human's flesh off with his chisels. Even thinking such thoughts made his heart race. His potion would do little good if he kept his mind on this path.
She gave a shake of her head, as if remembering what she was there for. And with a narrowed gaze at his silence, started performing spells. "Vocal cord damage, burst eardrums, burst eye vessels, stomach ulcers not to mention what appears to be an unhealthy level of stress. Your magic took care of most of the healing in sleep."
He caught the word 'most.' He raised a brow.
She didn't look too pleased. "Did you want me to do more than just a physical exam?"
Snide woman. Did he trust her even with an oath? "No."
Her frown deepened, but she didn't say anything more on the matter of what else needed to be healed. "I would like to evaluate your core. Severus mentioned there was something odd about the edges. Do you mind if I perform a variation of a core-check? This one does not require submission, but I do like to have permission."
At least she realized he didn't trust her enough for the spell Greg had performed. "Go ahead."
She then performed the spell for his core. There was no color to his core, and it looked opaque, she did not seem to mind those things so it must have been a difference in the spell. Her wand traced out the edge. The edges looked fuzzier than they did before.
"It's not damaged, but I'm afraid I've never seen this before so I am unsure of what it might be or the health impacts of it. Could I have you cast some spells?"
He accio'd a book from the corner. She rolled her eyes. "Wand magic would have sufficed. You seem well enough. What may I report back to others if asked?"
"That I am well enough."
Her lips pursed at having the words tossed back at her, but she heaved herself off the couch and made her way out of the room. With a sigh Draco pulled back on his shirt. And then pulled on his robes. For a moment he sat back down and stared out the window. What would happen if he jumped out of that one, made a run into the forest and never came back? But he'd always come back. It was the one thing Bella counted on.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to count backwards until the dark thoughts went away. He needed to be sane, hopefully for only another hour or two. The potion would hold up that long, any longer however…
"Young master is not ok."
His eyes drifted to Porridge, he hadn't even heard her pop in. "Tired Porridge. Just tired."
The elf's ears went back. "Would young master like tea served?"
"No, that will only make them stay longer."
The ears drooped.
Damn. "If you wish to make tea then make it. I don't really care."
One ear went up and one ear went down, and the eyes widened. "Porridge is confused, stupid Porri-"
"Make tea," Draco ordered.
"Porridge will make tea." She was gone with a pop.
He rose and looked back at the seat. With a few words from his lips, the tugs in the thread repaired themselves. He then left the room to join the others. He slipped in quietly, the company had increased. Potter had fetched the ghost and she attempted to contribute. They were discussing every single theory with the astral plane impacting the movement of the ghost. Draco noted that Madam Pomfrey had not stayed to join the discussion.
Draco used his unnoticed presence to pull a book from Flitwick's stack. The little professor noticed them and shot Draco with a warm smile. Draco gave a nod and smiled in return. Draco retreated to the couch nearest the door. The tea went ignored by everyone except him. He drank while he read, tuning out the discussion.
He felt a tug on his magic, almost causing him to spill his tea upon the book. Draco set the teacup down and then looked up. Vega stood in the doorway; a chess board clutched in a claw. At catching his eye, the tail started banging against the door frame — causing the room to go silent of banter.
"What is that?" McGonagall gasped.
"That is one of the intellectual animations I was telling you about. They seem to be able to contact the astral plane. We are unsure -'' Flitwick began.
The dragon's ears moved back, and it gave a crooning noise. It wanted to play a game.
"Come." Draco beaconed.
It was before him instantly. Tail swinging wildly, knocking the teacup Draco had set on the armrest. Draco had seen it coming and with a wave of his hand the liquid and cup righted itself before spilling. The dragon didn't pause. It set the chess board before him, putting the white pieces in front of him.
The ghost flew over, hair beginning to wiggle up towards the ceiling. "A game of chess, at a time like this?" the ghost's voice cried out impatiently.
Vega turned and blew smoke at her, as if she were Antares.
"You little monster," the ghost sputtered.
Draco made his move, which drew the dragon's attention back to the board. Draco didn't remove his eyes from the dragon as it contemplated its action. "I don't see the problem."
"But this is just wasting time," the ghost said, floating almost horizontal so that she could see the full board.
The dragon took its move and Draco took a moment and then countered. "I do not happen to be wasting my time. Yours however… Perhaps you should continue your discussion or return to your books." Not that they were making any progress.
"Everyone here is trying to help you," the ghost said.
They were here to help her, not him. The dragon took a move. Ah, was he leading him into a trap? A counter to that then. The dragon gave a huff. "The only thing I've asked for is for them to have left last night. And for that I got shot in the back."
"You weren't thinking clearly," Potter said.
"You shot him in the back?" the ghost whipped around in the air. A breath, a pause. "Harry!" She scolded.
"He was going to get himself killed," Harry said, defending himself. "Do you know what that would have left us in?"
And there it was. Vega had him in, "The perfect position."
"What? No, I would have been stuck here!" The ghost howled.
Draco waved a hand at the ghost as if she were a fly. His eyes not leaving the look of raw delight in Vega's eyes, the feeling of proud pleasure pressed against their magical connection. "I'm talking about the chess board. I've been led into a trap and he's in the perfect position to make the kill." And just like that the game was over.
The tail curled and flicked, and the dragon took his time picking up the piece and slamming it off the board. Childish in victory, Draco was eventually going to have to teach it good sportsmanship, but that could be taught later. Surprisingly the dragon didn't reset the board or shuffle off with it. Instead, it slipped to the side and pressed its head to his shoulder. Draco scratched after a moment, not understanding the change in personality.
"Well done," he congratulated, perhaps it was seeking reassurance?
That seemed to do the trick. It snatched the board and chess piece from the floor and then left the room.
"They act like children," Flitwick said, coming over towards the couch.
Draco looked up at Flitwick. "Yes, they are still young. Vega has only been alive for several years. He is still learning — forgive any rudeness but they do require my time."
"You mentioned there were older ones in the house," Flitwick said coming and sitting down on the couch across from Draco.
Several, in the dungeons. They had been designed for protection; incase the house was attacked. Therefore, part of their design was, "They are… not friendly with outsiders." They'd barely tolerated him rudely awakening them. If he hadn't been a Malfoy, they would have killed him. Draco had designed his with the intent of human interaction like the ones used on sea vessels.
"Where is the tiger?" Flitwick asked.
"I haven't had a chance to look for Antares," Draco said, reaching for the book he'd been reading.
"I am here," the cat's head poked out from under the couch, to the right of Draco's legs.
McGonagall jumped back.
The ghost's eyes grew wide at the tiger.
Odd, Antares typically liked to be on the couch. The cat's ears flicked, then it ducked back under the couch.
Draco reached out and scratched its head. In less than a second it was on the couch and in his lap. It seemed to huddle in his arms, facing the company. Odder still.
"Why is the floating white thing here?" Antares accused, ears going further back.
Ah - that was funny. He had a hard time not laughing, but he managed. "Scared of ghosts, Antares?"
"It's supposed to be in the book room. And why are all these people here? People are to come and then go, not stay. Only Madeline is allowed to stay." The only time Antares left Draco to sleep alone was when Madeline, Greg's daughter, came to stay the night. The girl practically demanded Antares stay with her to keep away monsters.
At that Draco needed to sigh, it wasn't scared of a ghost. It feared change. "Breaks in routine bother you too much. Get down," Draco gave a bit of a push. It moved two inches.
The ghost then came in for a closer look. "It can talk, and it looks so real." She reached out; this caused the cat to bolt.
The cat climbed on top of him to escape her reach and then threw himself off the other side of the couch, running from the room. It took Draco a moment to catch his breath after almost being trampled to death. Tigers were about two-hundred and seventy kilograms in real life, ones made from solid wood were heavy too. He was going to bruise. He was very glad Antares had the sense to sheath his claws.
"Even the tiger acts childishly," Flitwick noted, coming closer.
Draco's heart rate quickened at the action. The potion was worn off by now. Draco attempted to lean back and act relaxed, "Antares is the youngest out of the ones you've met. Just because he can talk does not mean he is wise. For all intellectual animations, wisdom is gained with time and knowledge. There are ways you can speed up the process, but it can result in unsavory personalities."
"Back to the topic at hand," Severus drawled, "the astral plane isn't something to seek out." He shot a look at Draco, before stalking forward, "The chances of people dying on the other side is very high. What we need to do is figure out how to block the key-"
Draco jumped from his seat. "I've never had any issues before, in the prior attempts to move Granger." Draco cut in. He needed to get out of the room, away from them. "I suggest that I get a chance to research the triggers that are causing the wards to go up. I do not see evidence the astral plane has anything to do with moving the ghost. When the ghost is moved, I stay away from the manor for a few days, allow the residual magic to die down and then return. The residual magic is likely the only reason they were able to reconnect. I doubt I'll have any more issues until we try again."
"Or you make an attempt to connect to the astral plane directly," Severus commented.
"Because I enjoy bleeding out of my ears, nose, and mouth?" Draco said, taking a step towards the door.
Severus seemed to inspect him, as if attempting to judge if his sarcasm was truth.
"What did you see in the astral plane?" Granger asked.
Draco turned from the stare down and looked at the ghost, surprised at the question. Although perhaps it was time somebody asked. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to say it. "Does it matter?"
It seemed like the group of them all exchanged looks.
"Perhaps," the ghost said gently. Her eyes looked through him.
His lips twitched in a bit of anger. "You were not the only one to die here Granger. No one should be surprised there are entities haunting this manor, in any plane it might exist in."
"Leaving you then, with a malicious spirit, we simply cannot allow," Severus said.
"I didn't say it was malicious. Only that it died here," Draco corrected.
"Haunting implies malicious intent," Potter said, backing up Severus.
Draco glared at Potter. "Really," Draco then turned to the ghost. "Are you going to kill me in my sleep, Granger?"
Nobody thought it was humorous. What a shame, he thought it was hilarious. He smirked at his own joke.
"As if I'd spend my time haunting you!" she hissed.
"I don't like how you keep evading the question," Severus commented, his frown becoming more severe. "Who was it and what did they want?"
He kept eye contact with his godfather, not letting anything slip past his walls of occlumency. "Quite frankly, it should be none of your concern." Before anyone could attempt to argue, "And I did not get the sense they intended harm. They were likely just curious."
"The cat said it was a she. Is there more than one?"
"No, just one."
Severus' eyes narrowed in anger. A spike of panic went through Draco as the man began to stalk forward. But the man thankfully stopped several feet short. Severus sighed. "Why must one drag information from you?"
Draco didn't give in. He couldn't, not about this.
"Give me several days to research the wards and I will send an owl when I believe I have found a solution. I won't be able to work with constant chatter," a partial lie — he could work with noise. Antares loved to gossip about the house-elves and the little dragons. "And like I said, it's residual magic from the runes that frayed the barrier between the astral plane and this one. I will not make any attempt to replicate the scenario until you are present. It's been more than twelve hours since the attempt to move Granger so I should be relatively safe. Any residual magic has likely faded."
Draco straightened his shoulders and increased his glare at the auror. "Now, I'd like my wand back, Potter."
To his surprise, Severus was the one that slipped it from his pockets and extended it to him, handle towards him. "Seems like you are fairly capable without it."
Draco took it, carefully keeping distance between him and the others. He didn't normally need the wand. It was just to keep up appearances except for apparition. He didn't acknowledge Severus' comment. One didn't inform of weakness or strengths; expectations could be easily exploited in a duel.
He gave a nod. He wasn't going to thank them for the return when they'd no right to take it from him in the first place. "Feel free to use the floo, or I'm sure Master Snape can see you out."
A flicker of anger passed in the dark eyes at the lack of familiarity. But what could he call him? He wasn't his uncle - no, not since he only used his family. He was no longer a professor. He wasn't the headmaster. He was rightfully a potions master.
Draco began to take his leave.
"Going off to take more of that potion?" Severus asked.
Draco hesitated but thought better on remarking. He left.
Draco then holed himself up in his room, reading any books he could find left by his ancestors about the manor. He didn't intend to make a connection with the intellectual animation until he had some idea of what he was working with. Going over what he knew about the astral plane. It appeared as if, instead of awakening the building, he'd been drawn into the place it occupied when it was stilled. The astral plane. The professors had taken the books on the astral plane when they had left. But since most of the books were just theories anyways, not to mention his only family library lacked few titles and he had first-hand experience, he felt he had the upper hand. Hearing something in the astral plane had broken his ear drums, talking had damaged his vocal cords. Seeing something thus hurt his eyes. His nose though… Perhaps he was smelling the astral plane or the more terrifying possibility, it was damaging his brain.
Day two of research, he was found by the ghost.
"What is this place?" she'd asked.
"My room." He extended an arm out, turning back to his book although not to really read it. He watched her from the corner of his eyes.
She floated around the study for a moment before trying to go into the grass. A smile touched her face when she was able to float around the small yard. "I haven't been outside in forever. I dreamed of a place like this before. I didn't know there were gardens in the manor."
Draco put his finger in the book to hold his place and closed it. He'd forgotten that she really couldn't leave the manor, not even to go outside. Draco looked up at the smile on her face with guilt pooling in his stomach. He should have offered this long ago. "There is another one on the west side you might be able to get to. The manor was originally built to be symmetric. Two atriums, each connected to a single room for privacy. The other garden has the willow tree surrounded by a pond."
While she made her way around the tree, Draco noticed Antares climbing the tree to get out of the ghost's path and to keep an eye on her.
Vega had taken a different approach. He finally put down his chess pieces and crawled on his stomach to stalk the ghost. In the end the dragon launched itself at the ghost causing her to raise her hands as if to defend her face. However, the dragon only went through her. He gave a good shake as if shivering from the cold, gave a snort of smoke and then went back to his chessboard.
She cursed at him for it.
Eventually, she returned to the side of his desk. "Is there anything I can do to be of use?"
"Of course," Draco told her. Just because she was a ghost, didn't mean she couldn't help. He gave her two diaries he'd already screened. Both diaries were from when the house was being constructed. Not the most useful details, especially since both were from the perspective of two twin girls going through puberty. They worked in silence and for that Draco was grateful. He didn't really know what to say to her.
After she finished the diaries, he gave her full access to the rest of his family's work – motioning to the border of books around the room. She read much faster than he anticipated, much faster than him. That night, she continued reading when he went to sleep under the tree.
She made a slight comment on that. "You don't sleep in a bed?"
"Not since the war," he had replied quietly.
To his relief that seemed to be enough for her. "I used to wonder, back when I was sleeping in a tent in the middle of the woods, if I'd be able to go back to normal."
Draco gave a grimace. "Nothing ever goes back to normal."
For a moment her gaze held him steady, she really looked at him, and then she returned to the notebooks.
He gave a long yawn and then when he closed his eyes it felt like it was only minutes before he was asleep. And like always when he slept beneath the tree, he dreamed of wandering the forest with Antares.
