Chapter 12

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They went their separate ways. Draco, rattled, went towards the path back to Hogwarts, eager to get away from her. She watched him go, feeling both relieved and worried. So he was onboard, but it would take time to see his true cooperation. Would he listen to her advice? Would he truly spy for the Order? Or would he betray her?

All risks. But worth it, she knew this is what Merlin wanted. More importantly, what she wanted. Finally, she was making progress with Draco. He was speaking to her, beginning to understand that there was a brighter future if he would just accept help.

She shifted her bag on her shoulder and steadied herself. It was time to get back into character, to pretend and be a teenage girl having drinks with friends. She forced herself to smile then stopped, feeling rather empty behind the false happiness. Malinda walked in the opposite direction as Draco, heading back towards the village center.

The Three Broomsticks was still packed and her eyes immediately went to check if the Golden Trio remained. She was relieved to see them still sitting together, their drinks low and all sporting happy expressions. Beyond them, Malinda found her housemates having a grand time themselves. She was pleased to see Blaise and Daphne sitting cozily together, their shoulders pressed against each other, with Clare and Millicent on the other side of the table. Sitting on the ends were Warren and a seventh year Slytherin, named Victor if she recalled correctly. Clare saw her first, waving in greeting. Malinda waved back then nodded towards the bar. She walked towards it, pausing when she noticed another table of Slytherins. Alec sat with the other two Slytherin half-bloods old enough for Hogsmeade trips. They were grinning, one punching Alec in the arm before Alec bashfully glanced her way.

Malinda blushed, realizing they were teasing him because of her. She looked between the two tables and an idea formed.

"Excuse me," she said to Rosmarta who offered her a kind smile. The witch had no idea they'd met just an hour earlier, oblivious to what could have been her future if Draco had chosen the wrong path.

"Yes, dear?"

"Ten butterbeers please. I'll help carry them if you'll just put them on the bar."

"Ten? Popular are you, lass? Sure thing!" Rosmarta dashed to the bar, filling goblets quickly. With practiced magical skill, she lifted four goblets with wandless magic and said, "If you'll get two, I'll come back- Oh!"

Malinda used her own hands to release magic, lifting the remaining six goblets steadily. "I've got them, thanks."

The bar witch was surprised, but recovered quickly. "Right, where to then?"

Malinda led them to her friends' table, where they were greeted with a hearty cheers at the new round of drinks. She reached into her bag, withdrawing the heavy money bag Blaise had forfeited and pulled a few coins out. "Thank you, keep the change."

"T-Thank you!" Rosmarta's eyes widened at the amount, her rosy cheeks staining darker, before striding away to help the next customer.

"Well, that was generous," Daphne said with a grin. "Blaise, you alright with your coin being handed away so easily?"

"As long as I reap the rewards," he replied smoothly, taking a long sip from his new drink. "You're late, Mal."

"Sorry, call with my parents ran long," she lied easily then walked over to a table nearby. "Victor, mind helping me? Let's make some more room."

If the seventh year didn't like being told what to do by her, he held his tongue and complied. Together they pushed the tables together and sat down. He eyed the extra drinks, "Thinking ahead, Selwyn?"

"Actually, they're for someone else," Malinda turned in her seat and whistled. "Oi! Alec!"

"Oh no," Clare muttered.

Millicent gasped, "She's not…"

"Why don't you lot join us? The snakepit has room for some fellow snakes," Malinda called across the pub. A few observers chuckled.

Alec and his friends looked to each other in uncertainty. The black-haired one said something, making Alec nod. But Alec looked to Malinda who offered him an encouraging nod, and he said something to them. Whatever it was, it must've convinced them to stand and walk tentatively over.

"What the hell are you playing at, Selwyn?" Warren hissed. "I do not mix with half-bloods and blood traitors."

"I came here to buy my friends a drink," Malinda said pleasantly. "That happens to include them too. If you don't like it, find another table."

A tense silence followed. Then, Warren stood abruptly, his wooden chair scraping loudly against the floor before he stormed away. They watched him go, Victor shifting in his chair as if he would follow, but Blaise rested a hand on his shoulder, "Let him go. You know how he is."

"Hi," Alec said and he stood awkwardly.

"Hi," Malinda greeted before turning to the others, "I believe you all know Alec Jones, David Slinkhard, and Romeo Iksus?"

She looked at her friends beseechingly, but Millicent purposely looked away haughtily. Then, Millicent slammed her free drink down and got up, leaving as well. "Really?" Malinda shook her head.

To her surprise, it was Blaise who spoke up first. "Yes. Please, join us. You'll find that Malinda here has already bought you some drinks… with my money."

"Technically, it's my money now," Malinda teased, grateful for Blaise's cooperation. She patted the table, "Sit, relax."

Alec sat down beside her, his leg brushing against hers. Heat spread through her and she was pleased when he didn't move away. Goodness, Malinda snatched up her drink, it was just a bloody touch and she was already blushing.

No one spoke for a long moment. Then Clare cleared her throat, "So Mal, any exciting news from America then?"

"Father is looking to acquire another company and Mother wants me to help her plan a charity gala over the holidays," Malinda shared and rolled her eyes. "So no, nothing new. Did I miss anything exciting today?"

"Other than you causing drama? Then again, what's new?" Daphne scoffed, "No. Although, you did miss Professor Slughorn getting piss drunk earlier. He left only a few minutes before you arrived."

Malinda laughed, "That must've been entertaining. So, what have you three been up to?"

Her question was directed to the newcomers. Alec spoke up for them, saying, "We stopped by Dervish and Banges, Romeo needed a new kit for his broomstick and then came here."

"You ride?" Blaise asked, surprised.

Romeo startled for a moment, shocked at being addressed, then nodded. "Play in a local league back home."

"Why didn't you go out for the team?"

"When Marcus Flint saw me heading to the pitch for tryouts first year, he snapped my broom in two and gave me a black eye," Romeo's voice hardened, and he stared down at his drink. "Said dirty blood meant dirty talent."

A tension fell over the group. Malinda leaned forward and said, "Fuck him. Good on you for playing back home. You should go for the team next year."

"And play for one year?" Romeo scoffed.

"Better than zero, right?" Malinda challenged. "Besides, I have a feeling Blaise here will be Captain and he's smart enough to know better players means winning, and isn't winning the whole point?"

Blaise studied her, his grey eyes hauntingly still, and then he turned towards Romeo. "You show up on the pitch next year, I'll get you a fair try out."

Romeo let the offer hold for a moment before raising his goblet in a toast, "I'll see you out there then."

A hand hovered over Malinda's leg and she froze for a second, before relaxing as Alec gently squeezed her knee in a silent thank you. She smiled, her cheeks red and a new, dangerous kind of heat filled her.

….


The next morning, Draco sat in his usual spot bright and early. It was Sunday and most students still slept, but Malinda had barely slept. Saturday's events had her buzzing with nerves and excitement. She slipped into the spot across from Draco and practically bounced with energy.

As she loaded her plate, Draco offered a quiet, "Good morning."

She gave him an appreciative nod, "Good morning."

It was the first time he had greeted her all year, the first time he had been the one to initiate conversation. Draco spared a wary look around then whispered, "What now?"

"It's been one night," she slurped up some eggs. "Rome wasn't built in a day, you know."

His lips thinned, "Did you speak to Dumbledore yet?"

"No, have a meeting with him later. Do you want to come with me?"

Draco stiffened. "What?"

"It's whatever you want. I don't mind being your go-between, but if you want to deal with him directly, that's fine too. I'll be there to have your back, of course."

He was quiet, thinking, then shook his head, "Not yet, I don't want to speak to him yet. Just make sure he'll protect my mother then I'll come negotiate. I won't give the old fool a damn thing unless he promises me her safety."

"Fair enough," she said. Malinda finished her eggs and sighed, taking a long drink of her coffee.

"You look tired," he observed coldly.

"I am. It was a long day for both of us," she replied then winked. "How's it feel to be a free man? I hear you've been trying to get out of that betrothal for years."

The corners of Draco's lips twitched, but his face remained calm. "It's a relief to be released from that doomed agreement."

"Good, I know you'll find your witch one day," she beamed.

He tilted his head, "Who is she?"

Malinda hummed, "Who is who?"

"My future wife," Draco whispered, his tone curious. "You said I have a son. Do… Do I love her?"

"Oh," Malinda hesitated. "Well, I don't think I should say, because you should meet and fall in love the right way. But yes, you seem very happy. Your son looks just like you, same hair and everything." Then she chuckled.

Draco's eyes narrowed, "What's so funny?"

"You know who your son's best friend is?"

"Who?"

Malinda's brown eyes wandered to another table in answer. Draco turned in place and followed her gaze. He spun back around, disbelief and almost embarrassment across his face. "No fucking way. A Weasley?"

"No, other one," Malinda laughed.

"Oh no," Draco shook his head. "Fuck no. My son will not be friends with Potter's evil spawn."

"They're best mates," Malinda reiterated. "Guess that means you and Potter have to get along too, huh?"

"Merlin," Draco ran a thin hand through his hair. "Just because you know the future, doesn't mean you have to share the disgusting bits."

"Right," she rolled her eyes and finished her coffee. "Want to go for a walk with me around the lake? I think we should nail down some details before I meet with Dumbledore."

He raised an eyebrow, "Another walk? In the snow?"

She huffed, "Well, we can stay in, maybe go to the Room of Requirement?"

Draco blanched, "No, not there. Let's go to the kitchens."

So they went, leaving their empty plates behind. The hallways were empty and chilly, no one passing them or seeing them enter the fruit portrait together. The elves only spared them wary glances as they ran about their business.

Dobby approached, a wide grin, "Good morning Ms. Malinda and Mr. Malfoy! May I get you some bread? Perhaps a croissant? A bagel? Or a-"

"Thank you, but we just ate upstairs," Malinda interrupted. Her heart broke though at Dobby's large eyes glistening with disappointment and his ears fell back. "Actually, I think I'll have a croissant."

"Of course, I'll bake a fresh batch for you!" Dobby exclaimed, running away with renewed joy.

Draco gave her a smirk, "The idiot will probably bring you the full batch too."

"Good thing you're here to help me eat them."

They walked past the bustling kitchen, carefully avoiding the smaller elves, then sat at the head table. Again, Draco took Snape's seat and Malinda sat beside him. She settled in and said, "So… What do you want Draco? This is a new path, one completely defined by your decisions, not the fate I saw in visions. You decide your fate now."

"I," Draco sat back, tiredly. "I just want my mother to be safe. I want the Malfoy name to endure, I cannot be the end of it. And-"

He cut off, expression torn between anger and determination.

"And?"

"And if I'm going to have a family, to lead the Malfoy name one day, then I want them to be safe. If my son wants to be friends with bloody Boy Wonder's son, then I want him to be able to. I want my son to have everything I didn't."

Malinda leaned forward and patted his hand, "Then that's exactly what we'll do. We'll build a future where it's all possible."

He watched their hands, then pulled his own away and under the table. "What will you tell Dumbledore?"

"Exactly what you just said," Malinda answered, sitting back again. "I can tell you now that he'll agree to protecting your mother and family name, but regarding your father-"

"Does he switch?" Draco interrupted, his expression tight. "You've mentioned my mother changing sides but what about him?"

"When he sees your mother lead you away from the final battle, he chases after you both. She doesn't ask him for permission, she just does it," Malinda sighed. "Until then, he fights for Voldemort, despite his realizations. Plus, Draco… He tried to kill Ginny Weasley."

She waited, not wanting to press the topic and send him into a defensive rage. But Draco simply watched her then sneered, "Are you waiting for me to cry, Selwyn?"

"No," she frowned and carried on. "He knowingly gave her Tom Riddle's diary to drain her life force, to bring Voldemort back. A life for a life. He did this to an eleven year-old-girl, Draco. Not only that, he was willing to sacrifice a pureblood for a half-blood, which doesn't even make sense according to your family's beliefs."

"Wait, wait," Draco frowned deeply. "What do you mean a half-blood?"

Malinda's eyebrows shot up. "Your parents haven't told you about Voldemort's lineage? His mother was a witch, descended from Salazar Slytherin, but his father was a muggle."

Draco stared and stared. He didn't move, he sat frozen, his blue eyes piercing into her soul, as if searching for any sign of deception. Finally, he whispered hoarsely, "M-My father knows this?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "He was there at the graveyard, where they used his father's bones to complete the ritual and give Voldemort his new body. You really didn't know?"

Draco stood and paced angrily. "All this time," he seethed, "My whole fucking life that bastard told me we served a greater purpose. That Voldemort would protect our blood purity, would put those lesser than us in their rightful place! Are you sure? Are you sure Voldemort isn't a pureblood?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, Draco's legs bent, and he crouched. "FUCK!" He screamed, "FUCKING LIAR!"

The house elves all froze in place, caught off guard by the furious wizard. A few squeaked in fear, but Malinda waved her hand and formed a sound barrier. She stood and reached for Draco, but he snapped, "Don't touch me."

Malinda recoiled and waited. She didn't know what to say, what to do. She hadn't realized that Draco didn't know the truth about the very wizard his family worshipped. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm sorry that they lied. I'm not trying to-"

"Ruin my life? Too late for that, Selwyn."

She said nothing. She was trying to do the opposite and deep down, he knew it. But he was angry and betrayed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Draco stood up again. He carefully smoothed his hair and then with a fake bravado, took his seat again. He crossed his legs, as if they were old pals having a drink, and in a cool voice demanded, "What else don't I know?"

So, Malinda told him the tale of Tom Riddle. An orphaned wizard, born from a marriage built from a love potion, incapable of love as a result, and his rise to power. She kept Harry's expulsion of Voldemort vague, only saying that ancient magic allowed Lily's love and sacrifice for Harry to save him. Malinda finished, "And now he will wage war again. He'll take up residence at Malfoy Manor, seize control of the Ministry and when he realizes that he's mortal, he'll come for Harry."

"Father says he's immortal," Draco murmured. "How? How is that even possible?"

Before she could respond, Dobby passed through her barrier and announced cheerily, "Fresh croissants for Dobby's friends!"

The bread smelled delicious. Malinda eyed the pastry and found that half were baked with chocolate, "You remembered my favorite."

"Of course," Dobby beamed.

"Thank you," Malinda said. "Whatever we don't finish, I'll take back to the Slytherin Common Room for the others. They're too good to be wasted! Is that okay?"

"You… You'll share Dobby's bread?" Dobby burst into tears, "You are too kind, Ms. Malinda. Too kind!"

With that, the house elf retreated, blowing his long nose into his wrinkled cloth. Malinda took a bite from a croissant and groaned, "Amazing."

Draco slapped the croissant out of her hand, "How?! How is he immortal?"

She stared at her fallen croissant then slapped his hand back, "Hey! Back off."

"This isn't the time for chocolate treats," he hissed.

"You will remember to treat me with respect," Malinda warned, her voice turning icy. "I'm your ally here. I'm the one with Dumbledore's ear and you will do well to remember it. So, if I want to take a break and eat a croissant, I will."

He watched her reach for another croissant. His face tight with rage as she took her time eating it, until she finally wiped her hand across her pants and said, "Now, where were we?"

"Immortality," Draco bit out.

"Right," Malinda said. "There's currently only three people who know how he achieved it and more importantly, how to make him mortal again. I'm one of them and I will not break the confidence of the other two. We've agreed to keep it secret, for now. The prophecy says Harry will be the one to destroy him, but he'll need help first."

"You don't trust me."

"I trust you, but they don't. Trust must be earned."

"How do I know you're not lying? Maybe he's unstoppable and you just want to use me for information."

"Has it ever occurred to you that we don't need you for information? That maybe, just maybe, we're just trying to save you?"

Draco swallowed hard. "You already have a spy."

"There are spies on both sides," Malinda sad bitterly.

"Dear Merlin, you know who they are." Draco gaped at her. "Don't you?"

"If you're asking me if I know that Professor Snape is a Death Eater, the answer is yes."

He inhaled sharply. "Please, please don't tell Dumbledore. He's my godfather, he's-"

"I haven't told the Order about him," Malinda assured, feeling awful for lying. It was so sad, that Draco was convinced everyone around him was a true believer of a hypocritical lunatic. When really, his own godfather was the ultimate spy and disbeliever.

"You must not tell anyone about your knowledge. Do you understand me? As soon as he knows about you, you're dead."

"Only three other people know who I am," Malinda glanced towards the sea of elves. "Well, three people and one house elf. I trust them all with my life."

"Then you're as foolish as old Dumbledore. People only care about themselves, especially in a war. A war is about survival."

"You've had a poor sampling of people then. Some of us care about others too and the world."

He considered her words then scowled, "Right."

She ate another croissant, despite her stomach protesting. She was full, but she was also nervous and unsure of what to say next. Malinda was pleasantly surprised when Draco reached out and took a plain croissant, chewing it silently. Seems like he also needed a distraction.

After a long minute, he changed the subject. "I hear you caused quite the stir after I left Hogsmeade. Warren wouldn't shut up about your blood-traitor whore mouth when you sent him away and for what? To invite half-bloods to the table?"

"Gossip," Malinda blew out a breath. "I would rather talk about war than stupid, teenage gossip."

He ignored her and continued, "I always wondered why you were keen on Jones. Now I'm starting to understand why. If you know my future wife, then surely you know who will be your husband. I assume it's Jones then?"

Malinda threw her head back and laughed. "No, no. It doesn't work that way."

"Explain."

"My visions are… picky," she tried. "I only see certain events and stories. It's both a blessing and a curse, but I don't know anything about my own future."

"Then why are you friends with Jones?"

She smiled sadly at him. "Because he's nice to me. He's smart, handsome, funny and he likes me. Why wouldn't I be friends with him?"

Draco looked away, watching the kitchen with a frown. Boldly, she added, "You know, some would have said you were smart, handsome and funny too once. Rumor is they used to call you the Prince of Slytherin."

"Ridiculous," he muttered.

"I still like to think you're all those things," Malinda said cheekily. "Under all that angst and whining-"

"Angst?" He repeated, clearly offended.

"Draco, you are the most dramatic and angsty teenage boy I have ever- What the fuck?" Malinda lifted her hands to shield herself as a half-eaten croissant was thrown into her face. "Did you just throw food at me?"

"No," he replied calmly.

"Some prince you are!"

Draco merely smiled, plucking a fresh croissant off the tray. It was not a sneer or smirk, but a slight smile and Malinda for once, did not fake her happiness as she laughed.