Chapter 10
November 1997
"So, Draco," Lucius said, eyeing his son over the heavy mahogany desk in his study. "Tell me what we've been doing over the past couple months."
His father sat back in his armchair, hands clasped over his lap in expectation.
Draco crossed his legs, leaned on the armrest of the chair and stared back at his father. His mother was promised that Draco would be trained to replace him so that he wouldn't have to go back to Hogwarts. And now he was being tested on his progress.
"With what?" Draco replied. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement or the Ministry Finance Bureau?"
He had gathered long ago that they had two focuses. One with regards to law enforcement and the second in finance. Many frightfully boring hours had been spent wining and dining, attending functions, plays and concerts, Quidditch matches and hosting hunting parties on the Malfoy grounds. They treated the department head of the DMLE and of the Finance Bureau, their deputies and major officers, and the occasional low ranking official.
"Both."
His father never explained the purpose of any of their outings. He simply told Draco who they would be meeting, what their position and responsibilities were, and what activity they would be doing. Lucius preferred that his son figure things out on his own.
Draco followed his lead and made small talk, observing and taking mental notes, not knowing in the beginning where all of this seemingly wasted time would benefit them, but knowing it had a purpose. He started to piece things together over the past few weeks, watching his father expertly direct the conversations without a whiff of ulterior motive. Over time, Draco developed a grudging appreciation for his father's nuanced approach.
Lucius Malfoy was a snake. It was impossible to know he was going to strike until the fangs were in your throat and the venom coursing through your veins. And by then it was too late.
Draco sat up straighter and described what he'd been able to suss out thus far. "We know the Order is looking for financial backing. Whatever funds they may have pooled together are going to run out after putting the Mudbloods and Order members in hiding – if they haven't already." He cleared his throat. "There are more banks than Gringotts in England, and they all report quarterly to the oversight committee at the Ministry Finance Bureau."
His father tapped his finger on his knuckle, patiently waiting for Draco to elaborate.
Draco shifted in his chair. "By now, it's glaringly obvious the Order won't be able to secure any domestic donors; at least, not any major ones. So the majority of their funding will be from abroad. We should be able to identify the bank they are using from those quarterly reports, and which account depending on timing, quantity and the nature of the bank transactions. We'd have to follow up with the bank to get more detail, of course, once we've identified the account."
"Or banks," his father corrected.
Draco raised his eyebrows.
"There may be more than one," his father continued.
"Right."
His father's icy eyes stared back at him. He looked somewhat pleased so far. "What next?"
Encouraged, Draco continued. "So we'd need the quarterly reports. Worthington has some debts that-"
His father shook his head. "No, no, no, Draco," he tsked. "Worthington is a pressure point to exploit but not over something as simple as quarterly reports. Save his financial difficulties for something larger. All we need are a few files tucked away in offices. Who has access to files?"
Draco thought for a moment. "Staffers. Interns. Even janitors."
His father waved his hand for Draco to continue. He remembered his father's conversation with his mother about using the Imperius Curse before he met Granger at Fortescue's.
"I could Imperius one of them-"
His father tsked again. "The Imperius Curse is unnecessary in this case. Always use it as a last resort. You've met Worthington's interns."
Draco thought back to the interns. All of them young, at the beginning of their careers, perhaps only a year or two older than he was, having already graduated Hogwarts or the other Wizarding schools. There was a tall, voluptuous blond. She was shy and turned away blushing furiously every time he entered the Financial Bureau with his father. Draco groaned inwardly. Was she who his father was referring to?
"Elizabeth?" he guessed, failing to prevent his trepidation from seeping out.
His father gave him an amused glance. "Oh come now, Draco. Surely some frottage in a closet and a few meaningless promises are preferable to Alecto?"
Anything was preferable to Alecto.
But Draco felt angry that once again, he was just a tool to be used in service of the Dark Lord. He didn't have any control over what he did with his body, whether it was getting Crucio'd after raids, having deadly items inserted inside of him, and now for sex. He had no control over his future either. His life under the Dark Lord's rule would forever be weighing the pros and cons of extortion, bribery, blackmail, threats, Imperius Curses, seduction and whatever other power plays he could come up with to pull strings at the Ministry.
"Do I Obliviate her afterwards or keep up the affair?" He couldn't keep the dread out of his voice.
"I think you already know the answer," his father replied.
"Those reports come up quarterly," he muttered.
He felt like a whore. Seducing some random intern for financial documents of all things. He'd never before felt that his looks were a disadvantage, but between Alecto and how he was being used now, he wondered if Vince was lucky. The more talents, skills and attributes at your disposal, the more you were exploited, the more you were expected to perform. Draco felt like he was being squeezed of everything that belonged of himself.
His father gave an imperceptible nod. "An affair with an intern provides excellent pretext for office visits. And we'll need the Financial Bureau for other purposes in the future. And of course, keep your dalliances discreet. We have the Malfoy name to preserve."
Draco glared at his father. Feeling defiant, he said dryly, "Heaven forbid someone think the Malfoys are anything but ethical upstanding citizens."
His father narrowed his eyes at him. "Would you prefer Hogwarts?"
No.
No, he absolutely would not.
Draco sighed in resignation. "Why not the Imperius Curse?"
His father's jaw clicked, and he studied him, seemingly not wanting to answer. After a few more moments of silence he replied, "Only as a last resort, when all other options are exhausted."
He remembered his mother telling his father she didn't want him using it and wondered what the issues were. But his father wasn't keen to elaborate. After holding Draco with an unwavering gaze to emphasize the importance of his guidance, his father continued, "What else?"
Draco tilted his head in question. "With the DMLE?"
He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and wondered how many affairs he would be expected to balance. At least the DMLE seemed to be populated primarily of men. Horrified, he wondered if his father would expect him to seduce the younger men. Or… The older men? He didn't know if he'd be capable of that. Maybe Alecto would be preferable.
"You can't play the affair card everywhere, Draco," his father said, seemingly knowing where his thoughts were going. "Even if you're discreet, you never know who is talking with whom during coffee breaks and lunch hours."
He sighed in relief. His father leaned back and prompted him again. "The DMLE?"
Draco cleared his throat. "They have some kind of rivalry with the Aurors and feel threatened by their existence. I suppose we are going to encourage them to absorb the Auror Office? No more specialization in taking down Dark Wizards? The DMLE will be easier for the Dark Lord to manipulate without the Auror Office functioning independently. Or the Aurors."
His father's teeth gleamed in a rare, wide smile. Having spent enough time in Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy did not like Aurors. This task of theirs was personal.
"And how do we do that, Draco?"
They'd certainly heard enough complaints from all that time spent with DMLE officials. The Auror Office was a sore topic with them.
"They've just about gone and done all our homework for us." His father nodded appreciatively and Draco continued. "A few can be forced into early retirement, Jacobson can be put on medical leave instead of the desk job he's been given, suspension for Young and Gerber for allowing the classified files to be copied and the Veritaserum stores raided, suspension or even Azkaban for Bailey, Lang and Smith for the illegal use of force complaint that was covered up two years ago." Draco took a breath and raked a hand through his hair. "Of those that are left, they can be folded into the DMLE and given desk jobs with low responsibility. Especially the younger ones. Maybe they'll leave for other careers out of frustration. There are a few Aurors which we suspect are aligned with the Order." He paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued. "There are several in the DMLE who will spy on them purely out of spite."
"That is the end goal," his father commented, clearly impressed. "How will it happen?"
"Pius and his office will step in if we approach them properly. Kingsley will be a surprising ally in this. The Auror Office passed him up for promotion and he's bitter, eager to change sides. Johnson will help. Wexler…" He looked up at his father in question. "We need Alexandra Wexler and she has no pressure points. Imperius?"
His father nodded wordlessly. "She has too much integrity to be swayed otherwise."
"At least someone does," Draco muttered resentfully.
He really should keep his mouth shut but this feeling of being used, shut in the dark, and lied to, inspired more back talk than he had ever given his father when he was younger. Their current situation could have been avoided if his father would have made better decisions to begin with. Maybe they could have gone into hiding.
Lucius held him with his icy stare. Perhaps wondering if it was worth getting into a fight with Draco for running his mouth. Ultimately, Draco was falling in line despite openly expressing his displeasure with what he was doing. His father seemed to allow him a small degree of verbal rebellion and continued as if Draco said nothing.
"This will be very different from that one off with the school girl and barmaid. You'll be holding the Imperius Curse for months and then Obliviating her when we no longer need her. You'll need to practice first." He waved his hand. "At least those in the dungeons will finally have some use."
Draco held back his revulsion at the thought of the prisoners and squalid conditions in the Malfoy dungeons.
Ultimately, his father was doing his best for him. Draco knew that. There was only so much one could do, Death Eater to Death Eater, within the Dark Lord's Army. Twisted as it was, he should be thankful for the opportunity his father presented. He had no idea how his father had finagled this opportunity from the Dark Lord, and hadn't asked.
Draco was being ungrateful. He had never willingly confronted the Dark Lord, never asked him for a favor and couldn't imagine doing so. His father had done both for him. At least by spying for the Order, he could secure a pardon to convince his father to go into hiding. He could get his parents out.
"I'm sorry, father."
The Malfoy patriarch gave Draco a look he couldn't decipher, but nodded in acceptance.
Draco returned to the topic at hand. "And then we go back to the Ministry?"
His father chuckled and shook his head. "Of course not, you can't just go Imperius someone like Wexler at the Ministry. We'll get her schedule and catch her unawares either at home or somewhere else."
"She goes flying three times a week," Draco remembered she had been a Quidditch player back in her youth.
His father's lips lifted slightly and he pointed at Draco. "And so will you."
oooooooooooooo
Draco entered a cell in the Manor dungeons. He had placed one of the older male prisoners under the Imperius Curse a few days ago and checked daily to see how the curse held. Trying not to make eye contact with the other prisoners who were fearful and cowering in the corner, he forced the older male to walk back and forth. There was no resistance. His curse was still active. He tried to make the prisoner do something more embarrassing, something he would likely resist, and compelled him to do a somersault.
Two of the children laughed, despite their fear at Draco's presence in the cell. Draco's lips twitched and made the man do the somersault again. The kids laughed louder, but Draco felt disgusted with himself. Instinctively, he wanted to make them laugh, but had taken away someone else's free will to do it.
He turned away from the children, remembering when he was their age.
Draco used to play here when he was younger with his friends. They had enjoyed many afternoons pretending to capture, torture and kill Mudbloods. The dungeons were dark, spooky and maze-like, perfect fodder for imaginative children. Once Daphne had accidentally locked him inside the adjacent cell and his mother spent over an hour trying to get him out. Draco cried, pretending to be scared. His faux terror had earned them all ice cream instead of the swift punishment that was originally promised.
All that play acting with Mudblood prisoners seemed like harmless fun back then.
"Any fresh ones, Malfoy?" Stan Shunpike's voice brought Draco out of his reverie as he walked down the corridor.
Draco had wanted to leave, but now he'd have to stay until Shunpike finished. He led Shunpike to the other cell and opened it. The women inside heard them approach, buried their heads and curled into themselves, trying to be as small and as inconspicuous as possible.
"A few," Draco replied with a sneer. "Depending on your definition of 'fresh.'"
Shunpike chuckled.
At least the children wouldn't have to watch. The Snatchers had more success after the initiation of the taboo, the results of which lay before him at Malfoy Manor, and other places he wasn't currently aware of.
"I prefer blondes, if you don't mind," Shunpike continued. He unbuckled his belt and motioned to the Mudblood women trembling in the corner. "You're not going to take one?"
Draco shook his head. "I'd rather not dirty myself." He studied his nails with disinterest as Shunpike advanced on the younger of the two women. "Don't take too long, I have things to do."
He stood at the entrance of the cell door and turned away. He always turned away, unable to watch. The revulsion on Draco's face, misinterpreted by others as an aversion to getting filthy, was real. But his loathing was towards himself. He was complicit, but didn't know what to do without endangering himself and his family. One time he forced himself to watch so that he would know exactly what he was enabling.
Once was enough, and he never watched again.
Draco heard a smack and he grimaced. The woman made an agonized whine while Shunpike called her a whore and other derogatory terms.
Witnessing the rape of a stranger was bad enough. Knowing it was happening to one of his friends while he was powerless to do anything about it was much worse.
In the Dark Lord's army if you lacked power, you might become a victim to someone who had more. It could be anyone in the Mudblood woman's position, dungeon or no. Maybe his mother or himself if they weren't careful. Blood status didn't matter, only power.
With jolt, Draco imagined Granger sobbing while Shunpike rutted against her. Bruised, battered and helpless.
He shut his eyes, trying to block out the woman's crying and Shunpike's grunts.
This fucking war.
Chapter end notes:
One of my favorite characterizations of Draco is as a master manipulator from another OG. A ficlet by Gravidy called the Lions of December. It's short, but she writes volumes of intrigue around one barely eaten dinner. Draco's got to learn it from somewhere.
Also – just going to point out, I am not a fan of the 'female love interest gets raped to motivate the hero' trope. So that's not happening in this fic.
