CHAPTER FIVE
Trials and Tribulations

Draco was feeling jumpy.

After Dawn's somewhat abrupt departure, the atmosphere in the living room had quickly transformed into one of uncomfortable silence, with Faith and Xander alternately glaring at Andrew, and Nymphadora grinning stupidly at her surroundings.

"I wonder whether I might have a word with Mr Malfoy in private," Snape finally suggested in a voice that brooked no room for argument, and as a result, Xander had Andrew show them a way through the house that lead to a door onto a terracotta paved terrace.

Draco could not decide whether he should be feeling nervous or hopeful and decided to settle for a combination of the two. Though he had never heard his parents say so specifically, Draco knew that his Potions Professor was a member of Voldemort's Deatheaters.

As such, he wondered what exactly his godfather thought of the situation he currently found himself in. Surely, any minute now he would divulge a plan that would include Draco's speedy removal from all things gross and Muggle-y, wouldn't he? He had heard what his godfather had said about being unable to contest either his mother's will or the Ministers decision, but such things would not limit a Deatheater now, would they? Surely a Deatheater would spit in the face of legality, and mock the very laws he was stomping all over. At least, that was what Draco was hoping, Having had no breakfast, he was becoming decidedly peckish but had promised himself after Andrew's earlier outburst that he would never again let any morsel bought, prepared by or so much as looked at by the mad Muggle touch his lips. In fact, he quite fancied one of Florian Fortesque's famous ice-cream sundaes at this moment, so if his godfather would just hurry up and apparate him and all his belongings out of here and back to Diagon Alley, he might even be able to find it with in his heart to feel something like gratitude.

oOo

Back in the living room, Tonks was having the time of her life. Before appearing at Stretham Rectory, Severus and herself had spent a good hour throwing together a game plan on how best to approach the Draco/Summers debacle, and after much sniping back and forth, they had agreed that Snape would get the boy alone and give him a good talking to while Tonks herself spun a convincing yarn to feed the Muggles.

As her father was non-magic in origins himself, she had over the years had plenty of opportunity to familiarise herself with the workings of the Muggle mind, and while some things like roller-skating and the Backstreet Boys were still a complete mystery to her, she did pride herself on knowing enough about Muggles to be able to lie convincingly to them. In this case she really was the best man for the job, - though Snape was a half-blood in his own right, he was in all fairness completely socially retarded when it came to dealing with people in a non-threatening manner and would no doubt only have been a hindrance in this situation.

oOo

Severus Snape made no secret of the fact that he intensely disliked people - in fact, one might say that he had built a successful career on it. Having said this, he did – somewhere in the foul neverpits of hell one might call his heart (but only for lack of a better word) - feel a sort of fondness for his godson – arrogant, spoilt and generally vile as he might be. It was after all not entirely the boy's fault that he had the people's skills of a three day dead jellyfish, - with parents like Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, a contemptible personality was rather to be expected.

And so it was that although whenever in his presence for longer than five minutes, - the hands of one Professor Snape itched to take his wand to Draco Malfoy's backside and give him what-for, he now found himself in the unenviable position of telling the child that he would not be returning to his home – his world – for the foreseeable future.

"The little rotter's going to throw a tantrum like no other, I can see it already," thought Snape, and sighing gently he once again envied Nymphadora the relatively simple task of lying to a bunch of Muggles.

Shrugging mentally, he turned his attention to his godson, and saw with some relief that the boy appeared slightly less sulky than he had previously anticipated. In fact, he seemed to be quietly and politely awaiting judgment. "Maybe this whole Muggle thing might not be such a bad idea," pondered Snape, mentally seizing Draco up, "A few months in the company of a group of people who don't know about the name of Malfoy might actually do him some good. Confound Dumbledore, that old fox, I bet the silly old bugger counts on it."

Turning his back on his godson, and pondering this line of thought under the pretence of 'admiring' the Rectory garden – littered with what appeared to be vaguely human shaped dummies fashioned from wood and straw as it was - Snape finally spoke.

"Draco…the Dark Lord has issued orders for you to be initiated as a Deatheater. Seeing as your father remains in Azkhaban and your mother was never initiated into the ranks of the Deatheaters, and as the Malfoys have always been amongst his staunchest supporters, the duty seemingly falls to you to assume the mantle of the head of the Malfoy clan. Before you say anything, I want to be perfectly candid with you."

Here Professor Snape paused, and though his back was still turned, Draco had the feeling that his teacher was struggling with himself before he continued.

"You must remain here until you turn seventeen, that much is clear. Before your departure from the Ministry, a very sophisticated tracking charm was placed upon you, which will activate itself and inform Aurors should you be removed from your new guardians custody for a period exceeding twenty-four hours. Since Ms. Summers appears to be absent at the moment, this charm has been extended to include Mr. Harris and Ms. Lehane. Clearly, you will have to remain here until you become of age," here Severus turned to face his dejected looking charge and attempted to impress upon him the importance of his new position, "Draco, I know these circumstances are loath to you and that the last week in particular has been more than difficult, but I ask you to properly consider the position you now find yourself in. You have several months at your disposal before you return to Hogwarts, in which you will in essence be the master of your own fate. Other than your cousin and myself, only the Ministry knows of your current whereabouts. I would like to ask you to use this time to properly reflect upon what you want from your future. Do not rush into anything simply because you feel that it is expected of you. Use this time to think about choices. You are a Slytherin, Draco. We are pragmatists by nature. That is all."

oOo

Meanwhile, Nymphadora Tonks was busy lying her little multicoloured heart out. Between Severus, Dumbledore and herself, they had managed to come up with what they thought of as a passable cover story for Draco's lack of knowledge and blatant disrespect for all things Muggle. Or so they thought. In reality, convincing these young people that Draco lacked all knowledge of washing machines because his family had been part of a community made up of followers of a radical new religious sect which eschewed amongst many other things most forms of modern technology, proved to be slightly more complicated than she would have expected.

"So, let me see if I got this straight," Xander said sounding more and more bewildered, "Draco has never used a pen or toasters, been to the cinema, gone on the underground, eaten a hamburger or used a light switch because his family believed that plastic and all it's derivatives amongst other things rot brains and make your toenails fall out." He finished, looking at his companions in a plea for support, but they seemed as puzzled as he himself was.

"That's right," Tonks nodded helpfully.

"And you were brought up in the same community until one day you were rescued by an Estate agent with a white Mercedes and Vertigo, and he taught you the joys of scrabble and microwave popcorn and offered you steady employment as a manicurist in a swanky up-town boutique. And now you want your cousin to have the same opportunity."

"Yup," Tonks agreed cheerfully, - she was particularly proud of that part since she'd made it up herself. She was of the opinion that it was the little details that mattered. Though her mother had married a Muggle, Tonks had been brought up mainly in the Wizarding World, and had amassed knowledge of the Muggle World mainly through snatches of TV programs she had as a child watched at her grandparent's house.
Having said that, she couldn't help but think that as far as cover stories went, perhaps this particular one might be a little lacking.

"I'm gonna take a stand for sanity and say that's officially weird. Does anyone else think it's weird? Don't say anything, Andrew." The one-eyed man added, glaring at the simpering blond who was bouncing in his seat, only to deflate somewhat at the last remark, "Faith, help me out here?"

"We're in England, yo, 'far as I'm concerned they're all wacked around here. This is all weird to me, though I gotta say it sure explains the way Giles acts computers. So this kid's parents were kinda crazy. Honestly, I've heard stranger stories."

The dark young man seemed to remain unconvinced, and not for the first time, Tonks wished they could simply tell these Muggles the truth about the existence of the Wizarding World.

However, she knew that this was at the moment at least more than impossible. Judging by the reaction of the families of many Muggleborn students, they could not tell these people – nice and harmless as they appeared – that Draco was a Wizard.

Who knew what the consequences would be, and annoying as her cousin no doubt could be, Tonks was in no hurry to see him burnt at the stake. Why, hadn't the Dursleys locked Harry in a cupboard while he was growing up? And they were his family! These American Muggles had no such familial obligations to Draco.

No, it would be better all around if these Muggles knew nothing about Draco's abilities. And there was no reason why they should find out. All and any of Draco's oddities (except for perhaps his personality) could now be blamed on the fact that his parents had been religious fanatics, and though her cousin no doubt had many faults, stupidity was not one of them. Once he managed to force himself to overcome his aversion to Muggles enough to learn how to function in their world, he ought to pick it all up pretty quickly. Dumbledore had assured her that for someone so hideously inbred, Draco actually had quite the nimble brain on him and occasionally even chose to use it. Still, Tonks couldn't help but think that leaving Draco in a Muggle household, eighty percent of which appeared to be made up of hormonally challenged teenage girls, might just be a recipe for disaster.

oOo

Once Xander, Faith and Andrew had had a chance to acclimatize themselves to the idea that Draco had never seen the X-Files before, said boy and his godfather re-entered the living room.

To Tonks, Snape appeared as impassive as ever, but Draco looked pale and even more subdued than he had been earlier. The Muggles appeared to be heeding the request Tonks had expressed earlier, for them not to highlight Draco's ignorance about technology as she had explained it might make him feel self-conscious and were instead talking carefully around him.

Tonks herself was of the opinion that it would take something more like a repeated stunning charm to the genitals to make Draco feel self-conscious, but what did she know, the boy had just lost his mother after all, and theoretically at least it might be possible for a leopard to change his spots. Temporarily, at least.

While Tonks was pursuing this line of thought and others like it, Dawn had made her way back downstairs and entering the living room, crossed immediately to Draco.

Her eyes were slightly red and it seemed her nose was runny so all it seemed Andrew had been right and she really did run away to have a good cry.

Under different circumstances, Draco would no doubt have sneered at her, if it weren't for his mind reeling after his recent conversation with his godfather. So, instead, he merely looked startled and took the object she held directly out towards him, as if daring him to snub her.

It turned out to be a black and white Muggle photograph of a young man with white blond hair, a leather coat and a sneer to die for. He was standing in front of a stone monument and seemed to be looking through the camera and directly at the photographer, one eyebrow raised as if in warning. Draco was secretly amazed at how life like the picture seemed, unmoving as it was. He stared at it for a few moments before tearing his eyes away.

"I took that a couple of weeks before Sunnydale collapsed," Dawn explained as Draco passed the picture to his godfather. "The new po…students were doing my head in and Buffy wouldn't let me go outside by myself, so he took me out and we went and got some ice-cream and sat in Restfield Cemetery and he told me stories about England."

"I remember that," Xander replied, motioning for Dawn to come sit between him and Faith, which she did. He put his arm round the girl and added as if solely for her benefit, "Just after you guys started being friends again. Buffy went spare when she heard you guys had gone out by yourselves."

"Yeah, she did," Dawn agreed nodding sadly, "I miss him."

Xander merely sighed and hugged her closer, and something told Draco that he had disliked his uncle more than a little strongly.

"You can keep that if you want," Dawn addressed Draco, and he merely nodded in reply.

oOo

Sometime later, after Snape and Tonks had returned safely to Hogwarts to report to the Headmaster and Draco lay in his bed, alternately sulking and mourning his lot, Faith, Dawn, Andrew and Xander had assembled around the large marble countertop in the kitchen and were discussing the day's events.

"What in the name of all that is holy is going on here?" Xander burbled, not looking overly amused. Sure, the lot of jokester and comic relief extraordinaire no doubt fell to him when the entire Scooby Gang was assembled, but out here only he and Faith were in charge, and that meant that on occasion he had to offer the world a grim visage. Such a time was now. "Is anyone else confused? 'Cos I am. Very very very confused. Since when are alien squid monsters allergic to plastic?"

"Well," Andrew butted in in his trademark nasal whine, "We never actually established that Draco was an alien or a squid…it was just one of many options...and yeah, so they all seem a little odd, but the Professor at least was very distinguished…" here Andrew drifted off, looking misty eyed

"Oh please," came Xander's response, "Did everybody else fail to notice that the pink lady's back-story came straight out of the last five minutes of 'Pretty Woman'? Hello! They're definitely evil. I vote, we wait 'til the Draco is asleep and then sneak into the little pasty bugger's room and chop his head off while he's not looking. I mean…Tonks or whatever mentioned him not being able to use a pen in the same breath as making sure to remind him to do all his homework. How? Psychically? Via smoke signal? I don't get it. Faith, back me up here…you're ready to get with the hacking and slashing, right?"

The dark haired Slayer shifted uncomfortably for a second before answering, "I kinda think we should hold off and research a bit," off Xander's pseudo-hysterically whisperer: "Oh caramba, they got to her too!" she added, "Giles will be back the day after tomorrow, he'll know where to start looking for answers. 'Til then, I reckon we should all read up on English demons, squid monsters form outer space and keep the kid away from sharp or pointy objects. Agreed?"

Various mumbles of assent could be heard floating through the kitchen and peace once more settled over Streatham Rectory. For a little while at least, or until Dawn found out that one of the currently jogging Potentials was wearing her underwear.