"What did you do this morning?" asked his mother.

"I was in the library, reading," answered Draco.

"That's a lie," Tigris said immediately. His mother nodded, satisfied. Draco froze and lowered his eyes.

Tigris scrutinized him. "He was training with father… swordplay. Why did you lie?"

"Because father told me to," answered Draco honestly and looked at Tigris. "You've gotten pretty good."

"And you're disappointing," said his mother coldly. Draco slumped a bit. "Did you meditate at all?"

"Of course. Every evening," replied Draco defensively. "I just don't have any talent for this!"

"You're not trying hard enough!" She said angrily. "You have the talent. I'm sure you do."

"That's not true." Draco was clenching his robes with his hands. "Just because it's so easy for him…"

She slapped Draco. "It's got nothing to do with that. You just have to work harder. He's the firstborn. Of course it's easier for him!"

"Mother…" Tigris interrupted her.

"If only you'd show more interest…"

"Mother!" Shouted Tigris. She paused. Draco leaned back his head and closed his eyes.

"Was that really necessary?"

Draco breathed in deeply and laughed cheerlessly. "Leave her be, Tigris."

His mother stared at Tigris, opened her mouth, and closed it again. Then, she reached for Draco. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to… I simply worry for you. That's all."

Draco choked out a laugh. "Of course you do"

Tigris observed both of them with a frown. "May I speak to you for a moment, Mother?"

She kept her eyes on Draco for a moment longer before nodding. "Of course, Tigris." She motioned her wand in a circle around them. "What's this about?"

"Shouldn't he have the same ability?"

She sighed deeply. "The ability, Tigris, always goes to the firstborn."

"But you…"

"Other members of the family may inherit a weaker aptitude. I have a certain talent. More than usual. But Sirius was the one who inherited the actual ability. Do you really think he withstood Azkaban simply because he's an animagus? I've always envied him and that fool didn't even know what he had." She sounded bitter.

Tigris ignored the pain that stabbed him at the mention of Sirius. "You shouldn't treat Draco like that. He does his best, you know?"

"I know," she said, staring out of the window. "But what if his best isn't enough? He's a danger to all of us if he can't close off his mind."

"You never showed him the keystone?"

"I couldn't!" She shouted, outraged. "It's not his right!"

"Then how can you expect…"

"He just has to try! Others learn without help!"

"Within years, Mother!"

"Then he just has to make more of an effort!"

"You're being irrational!"

She slapped Tigris. "Don't speak to me like that!"

Tigris stared at her and she sobbed. "I'm sorry! I'm simply…"

He sighed and pulled her into a hug. "I understand, mother. I need to talk to you – to everyone. I think I found a solution for this problem, but I'll need everyone's consent."

She let go of him. "Good. I'm sorry, I…" she smiled ruefully. "Sometimes I get a bit emotional."

"I understand," Tigris reiterated. And he did. She was anxious, but that was no reason to act the way she did. "Please just try to be a bit more fair towards Draco, alright? He deserves better."

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to tell me."

"So what's this about?" His father sounded impatient. Tigris couldn't help but grow a little nervous.

"Mother is worried about my…uhm…past. She fears that someone may find out the truth."

"I know. She already told me," his father interrupted Tigris brusquely. "She said you had an idea."

Tigris swallowed. This wouldn't be easy. "Yes, that's right." He glanced back to the others in the room. Draco appeared anxious and a bit nervous. His mother seemed to simply bide her time. But by now Tigris knew her well enough to know that no one ever saw her emotions unless she wanted them to. He suppressed the urge to wipe his sweaty hands on his robe. "As you may know, Mother has given me some books on Occlumency and Legilimency."

His father only nodded.

"Apparently, the contents adjust to the reader since I found a few spells that Mother wasn't aware of. One of them is used to keep secrets. It's a very old spell that prohibits you from sharing information or memories. A Legilimens can't find what's hidden and the subject of the spell can't talk about it either. At the same time, the person is still allowed to remember."

His father's eyes widened a little. "What exactly are you suggesting? I let you cast a spell on me?"

Tigris couldn't help but wring his hands nervously behind his back. "You'd have to be an advanced Legilimens to cast the spell. But I think that I can do it with your consent. I'm not good enough to use it on someone who's fighting back."

"I understand," his father said slowly. "What about you? I doubt you can use that spell on yourself."

"By now, my abilities as an Occlumens are advanced enough that no one will learn anything through me. I don't intend to tell anyone either. That would only put me in danger."

Before Tigris could react, his father had stood up and pointed his wand at him. "Legilimens!"

Tigris fell to his knees as the man broke into his thoughts with reckless violence. A few memories from the past weeks played before his eyes.

Draco and him during training… him in the library… Draco as he showed him the aethonans in the Malfoys' stables. For a moment, Tigris relived that urge to ride them… Then, he was back at the Dursleys', but the memory was blurry. A woman - Tigris knew it was his aunt - yelling at him because his hair had grown overnight… A boy - Tigris knew it was Dudley - calling him a freak… his uncle, beating him with his belt. The memories were dragged to the front of his mind and grew easier to see. For an instant, Tigris had them clearly in mind. A woman, squat with brown hair. A man, blond, big-boned, and lean…

Tigris found himself kneeling on the floor, locking eyes with his father. He resisted the urge to grin. It must have shown on his face, for his father's expression grew angry. He was leaning on his desk with his hands, breathing heavily as if after an exhausting sprint.

"I see you've made progress," he finally said. He obviously struggled to admit this. When he waved for Tigris to get back up, he took a seat again.

"Fine. You may try. Start with your brother." He handed Tigris the wand he'd used for training for the past two weeks.

Tigris turned back to face Draco, who drew back a bit in his chair.

He sighed. "Do you trust me, Draco?"

"Why in Mordraud's name should I trust you?"

"You don't have to trust me. Just my skills."

"I'll try." Draco's expression looked anything but sure.

"That will have to do." Tigris pointed his wand at Draco and began concentrating. "I want you to think about exactly the memories we're trying to hide. Think about how I was Harry Potter."

The brief display of disgust on Draco's face almost pulled Tigris from his concentration. He was a bit irritated that Draco could see him as his brother while also hating the name Harry Potter. Whatever, this wasn't the time to think about that. Tigris looked into Draco's eyes until he felt like he had taken a hold of everything he needed.

"Recordatio saeptum es."

Draco blinked. "I don't feel any different."

Tigris laughed, amused. "Really? Tell me who I really am."

"Tigris Malfoy."

"And who did I use to be?"

"Tigris Malfoy." Draco blinked again. "That's confusing."

"What's confusing?"

Draco shook his head. "Nothing."

Tigris grinned, satisfied. His father nodded approvingly. "Now, your mother."

This was easy. She opened up her mind for him.

His father used Legilimens on Draco and was satisfied with the result.

"I don't believe it's necessary to use the spell on me," he then said, holding out his hand.

Tigris kept the wand. "Are you sure that you can hide your thoughts from a practiced Legilimens?"

"I'm an experienced Occlumens," answered his father coolly.

Tigris examined him skeptically. He had a feeling that the man wasn't too good at it and his mother's words only strengthened his suspicions. 'Alright,' he thought. 'No better time than now.'

All of their lives were on the line if the Dark Lord rummaged through his father's thoughts. Tigris pointed his wand at his father before he could change his mind.

"Legilimens." He knew what he was looking for, and finding it was ridiculously easy.

Tigris found himself lying on the floor. A woman in death eater robes bent down towards him, pressing a brooch with the Malfoy family crest into his hand. He vanished. She was carrying a small dagger and a vial with a red liquid. The death eater next to her - the one Tigris now knew was his father - took the vial, shattering it on the floor and reciting a long spell in a language Tigris only recognized vaguely. Aramaic? Then, he turned towards the Dursleys who looked to be frozen in their movements. His father waved his hand carelessly. Petunia began screaming hysterically while Vernon stammered useless insults and threats. Dudley didn't move at all.

His father pointed his wand at Vernon. His former uncle appeared dumbfounded for a moment when his hands fell to the floor. Then, he screamed. His father laughed as a puddle of blood formed around Vernon. Petunia's screams reached a pitch that could have shattered glass.

Tigris pulled back from the memory as soon as he could. He struggled not to lose the contents of his stomach. Knowing that his father had killed the Dursleys was one thing. Watching it was another. Merlin, how he hated the man. His father had grown pale, hands clutching the table. Tigris hugged himself so he wouldn't shake.

"Obviously it's not enough, Sir." Somehow, he managed to keep his voice calm.

His father slowly leaned back in his chair, releasing the hold he had on the table. "Obviously not." His voice was hoarse. "You can use that spell on me. We'll chat about your unbelievable presumptuousness later."

Tigris wavered, using the desk for support.

"Can you do it?" His father asked sharply.

"Yes," Tigris forced out his words. "Just one moment, Sir."

He noticed how much the exercises of the past weeks helped him regain his composure. Barely a minute later he was calm enough to focus on his task.

"Recordatio saeptum es."

"Try again."

Tigris gulped. "What…? I mean— Excuse me, Sir?"

"We need to confirm whether it worked, won't we?" Said his father frostily. "So try again."

Tigris nodded with hesitation. He didn't wish to enter that mind again in the least, but his father was right, of course.

"Legilimens."

As expected, Tigris didn't find a single memory of the Dursleys or himself with his former appearance during his stay here. Instead, he had entered a different memory. Tigris saw several death eaters. One of them, he recognized as his father, another as Bellatrix Lestrange. They had encircled several scared people - most likely muggles, since none of them carried wands.

Tigris immediately tried to pull back but was blocked by something. He realized that the muggles were a family with parents and two boys, roughly his age. The mother tried to push the boys behind her as the father and her attempted to protect them. The death eaters taunted them, drawing closer. Tigris fought against the resistance that was holding him in the memory, but he already understood that this was his punishment.

Eventually, he gave up and watched as they tortured the muggles. At the end, his father used the Imperius Curse on the woman and had her stab first the man, then both of the boys with a knife. When he released her from the spell, she crumpled to the ground and killed herself. The death eaters laughed before disappearing one after another.

Then, Tigris was finally able to pull out. He fell to his knees, hugging himself and closing his eyes. It took everything he had not to break into tears or to vomit. Or both.

Tigris didn't know what was worse. The actions he witnessed, or the sadistic glee he felt in his father's mind.

"If you ever do this again, I won't let you off as easily."

"Yes, Father."

"Now leave."

Tigris didn't need to be told twice. He ran from the room and up into his own bathroom. There, he vomited until there was nothing left within his stomach. He only came back to his senses when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" It was Draco.

Tigris shook his head and closed his eyes. The memory played on a repeating loop in his head and he couldn't pull himself together enough to repress it.

"That was a stupid thing to do."

"It had to be done."

Tigris coughed and was thankful when Draco offered him a glass of water. His throat burned and his mouth was still filled with an awful flavor.

"I wish we could simply saddle two of the aethonans and fly away," he whispered.

Draco patted his back calmingly. "That's an unfulfillable dream."

"I know," answered Tigris, bitter.

Draco laughed hoarsely. "It'd fail as soon as we tried to get past the shielding spells already, since Father trained them not to leave their area."

Tigris balled his hands to fists, gritting his teeth, shaking with helpless fury. "I hate him."

Draco flinched. "Don't say that out loud."

Tigris threw back his head and laughed, bracing himself with one hand on the toilet as the action shook him.

"I'm pathetic," he hissed, hitting the floor with his fist without a care. His knuckles were bleeding. "PATHETIC."

Draco wrapped an arm around him. "Don't say that. It isn't true."

Tigris leaned his head against Draco's shoulder and forced himself into a sarcastic smile. "Really?"

"Father gave us tomorrow off," said his brother calmly. "He wants to take us to Diagon Alley the day after. Let's take two aethonans and go for a ride. That should take your mind off of things."

Tigris closed his eyes and nodded.

Draco stood, brushing over his hair.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm the older brother."

Tigris smiled and unsteadily got to his feed. "Thanks, Draco."

Draco settled a hand on Tigris' shoulder and mustered him thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have dreamed of this a few months ago, but… I'll always be there for you if you need me. It just feels right. I know you'd do the same for me, so… no problem. That goes without saying."

Tigris looked at his brother and felt something he'd never felt before. Not even towards Ron and Hermione. He gave in to a spontaneous idea and pulled Draco into a hug.

"You can't imagine what that means to me."

Draco returned his hug. He gave Tigris a strange sense of completion. He could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. "I think I can imagine."

That night, Tigris dreamed that he watched his father torture the Dursleys. They screamed and begged for mercy, but his father only laughed. Suddenly, the laugh grew cold and piercing and the person in front of him was no longer his father but Voldemort. When Tigris looked at the Dursleys, they had transformed into Draco and his parents. Tigris joined Voldemort in cursing his father with the Cruciatus. He felt a wave of triumph as he squirmed on the floor in front of him, screaming. Voldemort turned to watch Dumbledore who was running towards them from a great distance without getting any closer.

Tigris used the Imperius on Draco. Draco turned into Snape who took a knife and stabbed Voldemort from behind. Voldemort screamed and a hundred spun-glass spheres around them shattered. When Tigris looked down at his hands, they were covered in blood.