Draco Malfoy was running out of options. He had been on the run for three months now. He was truly in a mess. The Order of the Phoenix was on his tail and if he escaped them, well, he would have bigger problems to tackle. Using muggle transportation had kept the wizarding world off of his tracks for a while, but they soon caught on to his plan. He, Draco Malfoy, a young wizard who had always made it a priority to be accepted in only the best circles, was no longer accepted by anyone. By lowering his wand during his confrontation with Headmaster Dumbledore, he had failed the Dark Lord. By setting up the course of events which took the old headmaster's life, Draco was now an enemy of the Order of the Phoenix, a group looking to destroy the Dark Lord.
Now, a group of aurors, no doubt, was entering the train to search for him. He paced, trying to come up with a course of action. He glanced around for anything that might aid his escape and his eyes fell upon a young muggle girl outside of the train, waving her arms frantically. It looked as though she wanted to help him and he was in no position to refuse such an offer.
It seemed that, for tonight, luck was on the side of Draco Malfoy. The aurors had yet to make it to his portion of the train. Deciding that the time was opportune, Draco quickly grabbed his bag, slid open the window, and eased his way out and down to the ground. Ducking as low as possible, he checked that all was clear. He saw no one but the muggle girl. He then ran faster than he had in his entire life, hoping that he was not headed for a trap. He bolted toward the girl and behind the shed that she was standing by. It wasn't a great hiding place, but it would have to do for the moment. "Follow me," she whispered.
She led Draco inside the small farmhouse which smelled of hay and baking bread. They carefully mounted the stairs and stepped quietly into her room. Draco made his way to a wooden chair next to the window. Beverly heard him mutter something under his breath. Was it her eyes playing tricks, or did her window appear to be tinted?
Draco sat in silence by the window. He gazed outward, toward the beauty of the night. The moon was out. Only a few wisps of clouds were visible. The night was perfect for flying. If only he could take up his broom again; sadly, that would be one of the fastest ways to be caught. The Order would expect him to fly. He would not make it that easy for them. He was sure of his decision not to fly, but Draco longed for the feel of the wind ripping through his hair, for the freedom of flight. He reminisced on the days when he had no limits, when he was free—free of the Order, free of the Dark Lord, free of a conscience. His thoughts were interrupted by the muggle girl. "Why were those men after you?"
For a few seconds, he only looked at her. After considering the girl, he spoke.
"They believe that I committed a crime of which I am innocent."
"Well if you are innocent, why are you running?"
He looked at her sadly and in an almost whisper said, "I am hardly innocent."
She sat, watching him silently. After careful consideration, she spoke softly. "Who are you?"
"That doesn't matter. You won't even remember this conversation tomorrow. There is no point in educating you. It would require more time than I have to spare."
"But of course I would remember you—
She stopped suddenly, feeling a sudden clarity in her mind. Draco watched as she collapsed on the floor. He had modified her memory. Tomorrow, this would be nothing but a vague dream.
The sound of a whistle hit his ears. Finally the train was moving on. The aurors had probably assumed that they had missed his train. He had escaped them for one more night. Nodding a silent thanks to the unconscious girl, Draco silently made his way downstairs and out into the night.
As Draco progressed across the yard, he picked up his pace. He wanted to remove himself from the area as soon as he possibly could. Tomorrow morning, the aurors would be back to search for witnesses. The muggle who had helped him wouldn't remember a thing, so he might be safe. He had been walking for about five minutes when he heard footsteps behind him. With his wand ready, Draco turned around to confront his pursuer. Before he could even get a glimpse of his attacker, he felt the now familiar sensation of slipping away from consciousness.
When Draco awoke, he was alone. He was in a bedroom of what looked to be a muggle house. This room looked like it had been occupied by a teenage boy. It was a complete mess. Clothes were scattered across the floor, posters of muggle music groups covered the walls, and what appeared to be food was decomposing in a corner. House elves make the world go round, he thought to himself.
He got up and started to move about the room. He had a horrible headache. Draco tried to remember exactly what happened the night before. He remembered escaping the train and entering the muggle farmhouse and he remembered leaving the house, but what he didn't remember was who had attacked him. He hadn't captured a satisfactory look at the wizard's face. He was sure that he would find out soon; he hadn't arrived at this house by his own actions. He had been brought here. He was a prisoner.
Draco found himself hoping that it was the Order of the Phoenix that had captured him. It's better than Death Eaters, he thought. If he had to be caught, it was better to be caught by the 'good guys' of a war. They might show him some mercy.
Suddenly, the door of the bedroom opened. Standing in the doorway was a rather large wizard, an auror no less. Draco recognized him from the Ministry of Magic. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. The wizard grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes and pulled him out of the door. Draco felt a strange sensation, one that had become more and more common to him this year. He was frightened.
They moved at a quick pace. A great number of photographs of a muggle family adorned the walls of the hallway. Draco noticed that he had been right about the teenage boy. The family consisted of a mother, father, two daughters and a son. They looked extremely happy in the pictures, something that Draco wasn't accustomed to when it came to family.
They came to a door at the end of the hall. Shacklebolt muttered, "Be careful what you say," and shoved Draco into the room.
When he saw what was waiting for him, he found it hard to breathe. He looked around the room and all he could find were wizards and witches who hated him. There were a few that he did not know. But there were many that he did. Spread out around the room with their wands out were Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Molly, Arthur, Bill, and Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and of course, Harry Potter. Meeting all of their gazes, Draco took a deep breath and stepped farther into the room.
For a few moments, no one uttered a word. Breaking the silence, to no one's surprise, was Ron Weasley. "Malfoy, you—
He was stopped by one of his mother's famous looks. Molly Weasley calmly stated, "We will give him a chance to explain himself. If we didn't, we would be just as bad as his evil, good-for-nothing—
"Molly," Mr. Weasley cut in. "We will allow Draco to give us an explanation."
Everyone looked expectantly at the young wizard. He was still disheveled from his months of running. He was dirty and looked in need of a bath. A patch of dried blood was visible in his platinum blonde hair. He must have hit his head when he fell the night before. Draco hadn't found much opportunity for sleep while he was on the run and it showed. He had dark circles underneath his gray eyes. He looked even more pale than usual. He looked somewhat frightened standing in front of many of the members of the Order, yet he still retained a small air of confidence, attained from being raised at the top of the social ladder.
Draco closed his eyes, swallowed his pride, and started to speak. "I know that you all despise me. That is no secret. But I ask you to judge me fairly and realize just why I acted as I did. I was put in a position that I could not find a way out of. My family was at stake. I was protecting my mother. I know that I have done some terrible things and I will take responsibility for my actions."
"Well, yeah, you are responsible!" yelled Ron. "You were going to kill Dumbledore! Harry saw the whole thing. He was in the tower with you. He saw you corner Dumbledore."
"Wait. Potter, you saw what happened? Tell them what you saw. Tell them that I didn't have any intent of harming the headmaster."
Harry glared at him and coldly stated, "I saw Draco Malfoy put his wand up to Dumbledore's chest and say 'I am going to kill you.' Snape came in and killed the headmaster before Draco could accomplish his greatest dream."
Draco could hardly breathe. He couldn't believe what Harry was doing. The Boy-Who-Lived was lying about the events of that horrible night. "Potter, you obviously don't understand the gravity of the situation. I am being accused of attempting murder. Tell them I didn't do it!"
"But Malfoy, you did. Can't you just own up to your actions? Why lie about it now? You are already in the custody of the Order of the Phoenix. It's over."
"But I didn't—
Draco once again felt the hand of Kingsley Shacklebolt grab his collar. The auror pulled the boy out the door and down the hall, stopping suddenly to throw Draco back in his room. He collapsed onto the floor and let out a sharp yell of frustration. He was being accused of something that he didn't do. Yes, he had threatened Dumbledore, but even the old man had known that Draco would never kill. Draco had never thought for a second that he could kill Dumbledore. He had hoped that Dumbledore would kill him before he had a chance to fail. The Dark Lord had entrusted him with an important task and if that task had not been accomplished, his mother would have been in grave danger. They had to realize that he'd had no choice in the matter.
Draco was still extremely tired. He tried to fight the drooping of his eyelids but the urge to sleep was just too strong. He fell asleep right where he was.
When he awoke, two big, brown eyes were staring at him.