Chapter 14 - Daggers in Men's Smiles
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"You're a Mud-er-Muggleborn, aren't you?"
"Excuse me?"
Draco finally frowned. "You don't even know the terminology? You must be even newer than I thought. When did you find out you were a Witch?"
Raven deliberated for a moment, and then grimaced. "Which lie would you like to hear?"
He seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly with Slytherin ease. "None is preferable, but if that's not possible, then the most entertaining one."
Raven allowed herself a small smile.
Draco chewed his fish, waiting expectantly for Raven to reply. His question had caught her off guard, and he was pleased to learn that she opened up enough to let him know that she was playing a part...whether or not she decided to tell him the truth, he didn't know, but the very fact she told him she would be telling a lie was still good progress. Draco covertly checked his watch. It was 11:21. That meant he needed to stall Raven for another 40 minutes.
"Well?" he prodded.
"I'm an alien. These powers are normal for my people. I just came to Earth last week," Raven answered, nonplussed. "Hey, that's somewhat true...better to tell a half-truth than a 100 percent lie; it's easier to remember."
Malfoy smirked. "I see," he drawled. "Well, on behalf of planet Earth, I bid you welcome. Have you tried our butterbeer? It's quite good, and I'd put it up against anything in the Galaxy."
"No, I have not, but it's next on my list." Raven was relieved that the young Slytherin was content to go along with her on this. It was so much more simpler just to pretend.
"What planet do you come from, might I inquire?" He watched her deliberate for a split moment.
She hesitated only a second before replying, "Azarath."
Draco pushed further. "And how did you get to Earth?"
Raven's eyes narrowed. "Why, the same way I got you through that fence."
The young Malfoy sensed he was toeing the edge of a very fine, yet dangerous line. He had hit a nerve somehow...he could just tell. Did he say something too close to the truth? He paused to lick his upper lip, and decided how to back-peddle his way out. "And are all your people as beautiful as you?"
Before she could stop it, a blush rose to her cheeks, but Raven successfully hid the smirk. This one certainly was good. She couldn't help but respect his ability to converse as shrewdly as this. The both of them knew this wasn't a normal conversation...it was a battle of manipulation and wits - a distinctly Slytherin battle - and Malfoy had just scored a well-earned point. This was the type of competition at which Raven thrived, and rarely had she met such an adept opponent.
Raven took a sip of her drink. "You're right," she said in reply, "the butterbeer is quite good."
The majority of the Order of the Phoenix had remained with the grieving Weasley family, doing what they could to support them. More than the death of Percy, it was the discovery of his role as an agent that really shook the organization, though the exception would be for the Weasley family itself. How many others were risking their lives without the backing of the Order? How many others were working for Dumbledore without their knowing? This could turn decidedly dangerous during violent confrontations with the Death Eaters. How were they to know if the wizard they were fighting wasn't on their side? This issue would have to be brought up at the formal Order meeting that evening, for Dumbledore had already left the headquarters and returned to Hogwarts.
As for himself, Albus noted immediately the conspicuous absense of Draco Malfoy and Raven Roth upon his return. Despite his rational knowledge that the young sorceress was more than capable of taking care of herself, Dumbledore couldn't suppress his natural instinct to worry. He was very much aware that she might possibly underestimate the cunning and ruthlessness of Voldemort and his followers. He still didn't know the extent of her magic abilities, and felt insecure that they could match powerful wizard spells...especially Dark magic. Despite his better judgment, the Headmaster decided against sending out an owl to find and warn her. In some instances, an owl can do more damage than help, and depending on Raven's location, it could ruin whatever plan she had. So Dumbledore was left to worry and pray that she didn't become careless. "Although," he thought to himself, "there is one thing I could do..."
Arriving at his office, he spoke a few hushed words and a door shimmered into view inside his book shelf. Albus quickly opened it and stepped through into the secret Chamber of Clocks. No windows broke the plane of the worn, stone walls; the sand-coloured surface was unhindered by painting or portraits. There was no furniture in the room, save for the chair and table in the center, and a worn Persian rug bearing the four House crests covering the cold stone floor. There were clocks, though. Many, many clocks. From the floor to the atrium roof some sixty feet above, they covered every inch of the circular room. None of them would be any use if one wanted to tell the time. The passing of the hours meant nothing in this room. Some clocks had many hands, twisting and turning past one another in a constant, erratic dance. Others had one lone hand, solemnly marking the whereabouts of its charge for the Headmaster's peace of mind. Keyed to the witch or wizard's magical signature, each hand displayed their image, until such time as their signature could no longer be traced. All clocks had some points in common; sleeping, at work, travelling and lost. Other points appeared throughout the lifetime of the individual, according to how much time one spent at a given location. School disappeared when the youngest hand on the clock reached graduation, and in death, the clock would state deceased until the body became cold and the magical signature linked to the clock or hand faded.
On occasion, after reports of Death Eater raids, the Headmaster would enter the room to find one or two clocks on the floor, shattered, their plunge from the high wall not dampened by the thin rug. The hands would be blank, whole families wiped out, as the Headmaster sadly carried the broken devices out into his office, placing them with careful reverence into a heavy wooden trunk marked only with the inscription perii.
It was in this secret chamber that Dumbledore summoned a new clock into existance. The picture on the lone hand bore the face of Raven, whose eyes and expression were as empty and emotionless as her voice. Slowly, several points melted into view, as though ink slowly staining the face of the clock. There was Hogwarts at the three-o-clock position, sleeping at the nine-o-clock, meditating at the six-o-clock, travelling at two, lost at five, mortal peril at seven, and home at noon. But the hand remained still over a blank ten-o-clock position. Albus frowned in confusion. Slowly, a new point formed. Exploring.
If one could overlook his arrogance and obnoxious attitude, Draco Malfoy was very intelligent and a pleasure to converse with. It was a shame, therefore, that Raven could not get past his flagrant hauteur. Her drifting mind was slowly brought back to the present as she observed a few of his more energetic hand movements while he spoke emphatically to her about something.
"And so I said, 'Bitch, please! I am Draco freaking Malfoy! I could hit you over the head with my wallet!' and so she finally was like- "
Raven cut him off. "As intriguing as your story sounds, I must ask you what we're still doing here."
Malfoy dropped his arms as he reluctantly gave her his attention, swallowing down his indignation at having been interrupted. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean," said the slightly ticked girl, "is that we've been sitting here for close to forty minutes. Our meals are done and gone, our bill is paid, and you're sitting here obviously stalling for time." Raven sent him a menacing 'O RLY' raised eyebrow when Draco appeared innocently offended and wrongfully accused. "No one talks like that, Draco, especially not you. What are we waiting for? Is there someone coming, or are you wanting to miss something back at Hogwarts?"
Raven - 1 Draco - 1
Now it was Malfoy's turn to deliberate between the truth and a lie. However, the difference was that now he didn't really need to lie. It was nearly time, anyway...she would be finding out pretty soon. "Perceptive, Roth," he said as he crossed his legs and leaned back. "Very perceptive."
Raven's eyes didn't waver, and she fought the urge to point out that any idiot could have figured it out.
"A very powerful wizard has heard of you. He wishes to meet with you. He's instructed my father to make first contact to provide information and...incentives."
Draco waited for a response of some kind from his lunch companion, but he didn't get one. He felt unnerved by her calm - void, he realized with a twinge of uneasiness, completely empty - eyes staring back at him. Shouldn't she be at least curious as to what the incentives are?
"Yes, well," he tried to recover, straightening the collar on his Slytherin-green shirt, "he'll be waiting for us outside in a couple minutes. If you'd like, we can go there now."
Without hesitation, Raven stood up and strode to the door of the pub. An alarmed Draco stumbled to his feet and chased after her, afraid he had said the wrong thing. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried to trick her...would she have agreed to meet his father if he'd simply asked her? These thoughts and more flurried through his brain as he ran to catch up with his charge, who had already made it outside into the street. "Wait!" he called out to her cloaked back.
Her hood had been raised by the time he had made it out of the pub, and all that was visible were her narrowed eyes as she whipped around to face him. "I don't appreciate being used, Draco."
"I'm sorry," he said impulsively. Draco wondered why an apology forced itself out of his mouth of its own accord...he wasn't sorry, but something about her demeanor intimidated him. Naturally he would never admit such a thing...he was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake. Malfoys aren't intimidated...especailly not by teenage girls. He would be angry with himself later for his weakness, but right now those brilliant lavender eyes bore into him and made him repeat his unsightly cowardice. "I'm sorry. I really did want to have lunch with you."
Raven threw out her hip and placed her hand on it irratably. Her mouth opened and was about to unleash a tongue-lashing worthy of her demon self when she stopped. Her jaw snapped shut, and her face smoothed out. Yes, the little snot had used her for his own means, but she had caught the attention of the Dark Lord, and she had just been handed the opportunity to learn more about him. This had been her entire mission in the first place, and he had unknowingly done all the work for her. Insteand of having to painstakingly interrogate the answers she needed from him, they would come to her.
"When is he going to get here?" she asked, all emotion now under control.
Draco smiled triumphantly. "Right now."
Raven whipped around to face a tall, impressive man with the same egotistical smile as his son. He was a good head taller than she, and his long blonde hair hung down below his shoulder. But as long as his hair was, it was immaculate. Never had she seen a grown man with long hair who didn't strike her as a hippie. Rich green robes, with their shining gold and silver brocade, accented his broad shoulders and impressive stature as they gracefully swept about the calves of his knee-high riding boots. The black vest underneath was embroidered with intricate, yet nearly invisible patterns that spoke of great wealth and influence. Lastly, she couldn't help but notice the heaving walking stick he carried that bore the head of a silver snarling snake with emerald eyes.
His grey eyes looked down over a straight nose at her with polite interest, the smug smile never wavering. "I'm so pleased we can meet, Miss...?"
"Roth."
"Charmed, Miss Roth," he made a very formal bow, which Raven observed dispassionately. "I am Lucius Malfoy. My son Draco has told me about you."
"I'm sure he hasn't been the only source."
His eyes widened for a split second, but recovered instantly. "You are well informed. I gather, then, that you know why I have arranged a meeting between us."
Draco interjected, stepping up beside the two. "I've told her, father. She knows why you're here."
At once the older man's face morphed into an expression of severe irritation and disgust. "Silence, Draco! Your part has been complete; you are no longer required."
The young Malfoy looked like he was about to argue, but thought better of it. He looked positively murderous and humiliated, yet he ground out "Yes, father," through his teeth and stormed off, presumably to Hogwarts.
Instantaneously, Lucius turned back to Raven with his original expression of polite attention. "Now," he said cordially, placing a hand on her back and guiding her through the busy street, "let's go someplace a little more private to discuss matters. This could be the best day of your life."
Author's Notes: I'd like to credit a story called "The Chamber of Clocks" by snarkyroxy. It's a brilliant piece that I drew heavy inspiration from and highly recommend.
Title is from Shakespeare's Macbeth
