Draco finally stopped crying. For some reason he trusted this woman. He trusted her words when she said she wanted to help him. Maybe she could make Father stop hurting him. He didn't know how that would be possible, but he believed this woman could do it. It felt strange to Draco to have a hug in his home. His mother doted on him in public, but she never bothered to hug and kiss him behind closed doors. Mother had never hurt him like Father had, but she had never given him much care either.

Being in public was fun for Draco. It was a fantasy world. He didn't have to suffer his father's cruelty in public. He received affection from his mother. He didn't have to tell anyone the truth. He told everyone about how many toys he had. He bragged to all his friends about how his father had filled three rooms in their home with toys, all of them just for him. His friends always begged to come over to his house. He had to come up with excuse after excuse telling them why he couldn't show them the play rooms. His friends never had to lie. He had been to their houses. Greg Goyle and Vince Crabbe had play rooms in their houses. Not only that, they were allowed to run around outside until dinner. That's why Draco made up three play rooms: if having one was good, having three must be fantastic. He told his friends he could play outside all day if he wanted to. He said his mother (whom he called "Mum" only when he lied about her to his friends) would come outside with him and they would eat dinner together if he wanted to eat dinner without coming inside. Vince and Greg always "oohed" and "ahed" in amusement and envy at Draco's stories.

If only they knew the truth. If only they knew Father beat and cursed Draco. If only they knew Mother didn't care about him. Sometimes Draco felt like screaming the truth at the top of his lungs hoping somebody, anybody, would come to his rescue. But he couldn't. He had never been able to tell the truth. Not until now anyway. Now he had this woman, this stranger sitting on his bed holding him while he cried, promising him that she would help.

"There, there, Draco. It will all be alright. I will do whatever I can to make sure your father can't hurt you anymore."

"You promise?"

"Promise."

Draco wiped the tears from his face and smiled at the woman. He realized he didn't even know the name of the woman saving him.

"Ma'am, can I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything, dear."

"What's your name?"

"Sandrine Aleksia. But you can call me Sandy."

"Thank you, Sandy."

"Of course, dear. Now let's go downstairs. I need to talk to the other people I'm working with so we can all help you, ok?"

"Ok. Whatever you say, Sandy."

Sandy smiled, despite the pit in her stomach. She had worked child abuse cases before, but she doubted she would ever get used to them. This wasn't the worst case she had worked. She had worked too many cases involving the Cruciatus Curse. She had worked too many cases where children as young as Draco, many younger, had bruises all over their bodies. Draco wasn't the first child to sob on her shoulder. Even if he hadn't confessed the abuse, she would have pursued the case anyway. She had seen that look of terror in the eyes of too many children. Most people bought the act that everything was fine, but Sandy had learned how to see it in a child's eyes.

Despite the too high number of cases she had worked, something drew her to Draco. Something about him stirred her protective instincts more than her usual cases. Maybe it wasn't being drawn to Draco, but being repulsed by Lucius more than the other abusers she had worked against. She had never met the man, but by working in the Ministry she had heard stories about him that disgusted her enough. Now she learned that not only was he a professional snake, he was a child abuser.

Sandy and Draco walked down the stairs and back to the living room where the Malfoys had been having tea.

"Draco," Sandy addressed him, quietly and gently, "wait here while I talk to the men I came with."

Draco nodded. Sandy took a few steps closer to the man who had been interviewing Lucius. He turned toward her with an eerie smile on his face and a hand on his pocket.

"Ah! Sandrine, there you are. I was wondering when you'd finish up with the child."

"Sir, I think you and I should speak in private."

"Oh, that won't be necessary. Mr. Malfoy explained the situation to me. Apparently he has a House Elf with a wild imagination. You see, the creature overheard a conversation Mr. Malfoy was having with Draco about the Unforgivable Curses, and the elf thought Mr. Malfoy was using the curse on Draco. You see? Just a simple misunderstanding."

That was the most pathetic excuse Sandy had heard in all her years working for the Ministry. A child at the age of nine had no need to learn of the Unforgivable Curses. School children are taught them in their fourth year at Hogwarts when they are fourteen. Even if a parent had this conversation with his child, there would be no way of confusing this with using the curse on him. No one, especially not a child, would be able to prevent himself from screaming if the Cruciatus Curse was used on him.

"I see someone has quite the wild imagination."

"Oh, I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't met Dobby," Lucius said. "You wouldn't believe the nonsense we put up with from him. If I didn't have such a heart for living creatures, I wouldn't keep him around. It of course helps that he makes the best tea known on earth."

"Mr. Malfoy," Sandy's boss said, "we must apologize for the intrusion."

"Not at all." Lucius walked over to Draco and put a hand on his shoulder. "Despite all the wealth in this home, this boy here is my most prized possession. If there was any reason to believe he might be in any danger, I would want the Ministry to respond accordingly."

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Malfoy. We are just looking out for your son, of course."

"Which is why," Sandy interrupted, "I must speak to my boss in private."

"Sandrine," Lucius began, "I truly appreciate what you're trying to do for my son. I would be beside myself if anything were to happen to him. As a token of my appreciation, why don't you take this," Lucius said as he opened a cabinet and pulled out a beautiful necklace. "It has been in my family for generations. I cannot even guess how much it is worth, and you likely wouldn't believe it even if I did. However, as I was telling your friend, Draco is more precious to me than anything else. Take it as a token of the goodwill between us knowing I harbor no hard feelings toward you."

This was more pathetic than the excuse. Did he really think he could bribe her out of protecting a child from vicious abuse?

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Malfoy."

"It would look lovely on you, Sandrine."

Sandy ignored Lucius' bribe. She knew Lucius had won this round. She was going to have to leave. She had to try one last thing.

"Very well." Sandy walked over to Draco and gave him a slip of paper. "Draco, this is my information. If you ever need me, you can send me an owl."

"Sandy, you're leaving?"

"Yes, Draco. I have to leave now. Do you remember what I promised?"

"Yes."

"Good. I always keep my promises."

"But...please don't go."

"Forgive me, Sandrine. It looks like my son is forgetting his manners. Don't worry, he will learn," Lucius said as he shot an angry glance at Draco. "I must teach him that it is impolite to try to prevent visitors from leaving."

The pit in Sandy's stomach grew deeper. It was clear Draco would continue to suffer from his father's cruel abuse. She saw the terror return to Draco's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sandy. It was a pleasure to meet you," Draco said robotically, as if he had memorized those words.

Sandy followed her coworkers into the Malfoy fire place and threw the Floo Powder. She had never been filled with such regret.