Chapter Four: Her Plans—Last Day of Summer

Rachael spent the last week of summer in deep thought. She had three binders of information on Voldemort and the Death Eaters. She had considered sending either Dumbledore or Harry Potter an owl, but she wasn't sure if they'd really buy that she was trying to help Draco be free of the Death Eaters—or that he wanted to be free of them at all. Besides, what if the owl was intercepted? Rachael took her mother's words about drawing the Dark Lord's attention very seriously, and covered her tracks as best she could, and she didn't like the idea of a letter that could put her and Draco in such grave danger flying freely through the skies, where any halfwit could hex the owl out of the sky and have the letter very easily.

At last she decided that she could never steal Draco from Voldemort's clutches on her own. She needed help—big help. She needed to go to Albus Dumbledore in person, and beg on her knees if need be. And she needed to tell Draco her plans—and get permission to spill a few private details of his life, just in case she was desperate. She would vow to him to use sympathy as a last resort.

So she scrawled out a concise owl begging Draco to come visit her, even for a day. He replied that he'd come the Sunday before school started, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

She thought about how best to present the plan to him. It wasn't the noblest of plans, sure, but Dumbledore was on the good side, wasn't he? So he had to take pity on Draco, who of all people deserved it. She just hoped that Draco would opt for a surefire if cowardly plan over one that would bring glory to the Malfoy name.

Draco, Rachael was certain, would be the only uncertain variable in this plan. She could handle that. She knew (hoped like hell) that his good sense would win out over any possible shame.

Now she sat anxiously in her room, hands balled tightly into fists. She had stowed her research binders in the library because she wasn't sure how Draco would react. He was due around now.

A house elf named Kaylin knocked hesitantly on Rachael's door. "Yes, come in," Rachael said, trying to keep the tenseness out of her voice.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy is here, mistress," said Kaylin timidly. Though Rachael kept her voice even, Kaylin could no doubt see her rigid posture, the way she clutched the ends of the sleeves of her black cashmere sweater, the way her bare toes curled against the wood of the floor.

"Send him in," Rachael said quietly.

Kaylin nodded and left. A few minutes later, Draco, tired-looking in dark jeans and a navy sweatshirt, ambled in. He smiled at her, and she saw her own frantic exhaustion mirrored in his eyes. "Hey, stranger," he said affectionately.

She smiled back. "Hi." She walked over to the door and ushered him in, shutting it and muttering a silencing charm. She leaned back against the door and sighed. Draco was looking at her anxiously, opening his mouth to speak, but Rachael held up a finger, signaling him to wait. She sighed. "Sit, Draco."

He obeyed, but said, "Rachael, is everything o—"

"Shh. I don't know how to answer you. But let me talk." She took a deep breath, and when she was sure she had his full attention, began. "I know you probably came here for solace. But I haven't given up on saving you, and I think I finally have a plan."

"Rachael, it's too late. I'm beyond help." There was an urgent look in his eyes, a fearful look.

"No one is beyond help, Draco! I promise you, my plan—"

"Rachael, you're not listening to me. I'm beyond help." Hesitantly, his hand moved towards his left arm, and Rachael thought, Oh no. Oh god, no. But the sleeve came up to reveal the dread tattoo, the skull and snake in all their dark glory.

Rachael's eyes squeezed shut. "Pull your sleeve back down, Draco." She heard the faint noise of cloth sliding against skin. She opened her eyes again. She swallowed hard, and continued speaking. "That—complicates things. But it does not render my plan invalid. Will you listen?"

Draco nodded, hopelessness in his eyes.

"All right. It's very simple. I've been doing some research over the summer, and I've realized that I can't get you away from Voldemort without help. We—I—have to go right to the top. We have to go to Dumbledore."

But when she said the Headmaster's name, a strange thing happened to Draco's face. His eyes widened and then his face froze, except for a few nervous twitches. "Rachael," he said in a ragged voice, "we can't go to Dumbledore."

Rachael's eyes flashed. Damn it, Draco, you have to see that this is the only way! "Why not?"

"Because the Dark Lord has ordered me to kill him!" This stunned Rachael into silence. "And Potter would never accept it. Dumbledore's the only father he's got! He's not going to let a Death Eater near him, not even if I proved my loyalty a thousand times over!"

Rachael was shaking. "Jesus, Draco!" she said in a tight, high-pitched voice, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I? I was being watched all summer!" His face was strained, and he looked miserable.

Rachael sighed, walking over and embracing him. "I'm sorry, Draco. I was just—surprised."

He returned her embrace with that bitter laugh that his lips seemed so fond of these days. "Surprised. Who wouldn't be?" He sighed. "Rachael, I want you to give up on this silly quest. My allegiance was chosen for me before I was born."

Rachael pulled back from the embrace and said, "Don't talk like that! This is only a minor inconvenience." She bit her lip, standing straight and crossing her arms over her chest. Draco was quiet while she thought, amazement and desperation creating a strange cast to his gray eyes.

Then an idea came. A crazy idea, but an idea, nonetheless. It would mean laying all her cards on the table. It would take every ounce of her people skills, and every scrap of sympathy for Draco she could dredge up. She grabbed his arm urgently. "Draco," she said, "Draco, would you let me tell someone a few of your secrets if it would save you?"

"What—what do you mean?"

"I have a new plan. It's insane, but it just might work."

Draco bit his lip. Then his eyes hardened. "Sure. I have absolutely nothing else to lose." His expression softened again, and he touched her cheek lightly. "Well. Almost nothing."

Rachael smiled, holding his hand on her cheek. "Whatever happens, you won't lose me, Draco." She sighed. "So what do you want to do for the rest of your visit? You have full permission to forget about our predicament for now."

"I don't know… shall we have a walk?"

Rachael's mouth quirked and she said, "Sure."

Draco stayed until dinner, when he said his mother wanted him home. And Rachael began to work out the details of her new plan, keeping the final ember of hope in her chest burning.

Author's Note: The reason that the chapter number isn't spelled out is that I wanted to fit the whole name. This may be the last update for a while, since I'm bound for camp on August 1 and won't have access to a computer for three weeks afterwards. I hope you enjoyed this segment of Good Slytherin, and leave me many reviews for when I get back!