Title: Names

Authoress: Lady Domino

Summary: Now that Harry's safe, Draco thinks he can forget everything that happened. He has no idea how wrong he is…

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, they belong to J. K. Rowling. Sigh.

A/N – Gosh, look at that! Double figures of reviews! Wow, thank you guys! I'm glad you like the story. I seem to be churning out chapters really fast at the moment – enjoy it whilst my imagination lasts! I'm sure I'm due a spot of writer's block any minute now…

Letters

Two days, five baths later, and I was beginning to hope that the whole thing was forgotten. The Dark Lord had flambéed Bilpy's corpse and left. Father hadn't mentioned anything about the whole incident and Mother hadn't hurt herself again. I had made a point of spending time with her after she'd cut her hands; playing chess, talking, eating together, and she was almost back to her old haughty self. I'd even seen her punish a House Elf for bringing lukewarm soup. Peace and tranquillity reigned in the Malfoy household. It was far too good to last.

The Snowy Owl tapped at the window with its beak again. I frowned, put down the book I was reading and crossed the room to let it in. It flew in with a disgruntled hoot and settled on the back of my chair. Misty eyed it warily from where he lay, sprawled across my bed. I liberated the letter from its beak, and turned it over in my hands. I had a feeling that the writing was familiar, but I couldn't put a name to the author.

Mr D. Malfoy,

Malfoy Manor,

Wiltshire

There was no family seal – just a blob of wax holding the envelope shut. I was not worried, not even very curious as I opened it. After all, I've had my share of anonymous mail.

Dear Mr Malfoy, please, please tell me the secret of getting your hair to look so awesome. I would sooo be in your debt forever more.

Yours, Mr Loser.

Dear Draco, you are like the coolest person in the world and I am truly in love you. Will you go out with me?

Yours, Miss Loser.

I had very little interest in these sorts of letters, and I never dignified them with an answer. After my flight from Hogwarts I'd received a few Howlers from intuitive students who put Dumbledore's death and my disappearance together and made five. Hate mail didn't bother me. Malfoys do not need to be liked as long as they are respected and feared. And I was certainly feared. I'd featured in several Daily Prophet articles already, where various reporters had exclaimed over how tragic it was that I'd felt a need to follow in my Father's footsteps. Yeah, it's tragic, but on a far more personal level then they could ever guess.

One glance at the letter once I'd unfolded it told me that this was not hate mail. This was a serious letter, and if it fell in the wrong hands it could get me killed. Surreptitiously I stood up and poked my head out into the deserted corridor, and then closed the door quietly and turned the key in the lock. Father could open it with a spell if he really wanted to, but the noise he made would give me time enough to hide the letter before he entered. Feeling safer, I sat on the bed and idly stroked Misty with one hand. The other smoothed out the letter out on my knee, and I began reading.

Malfoy,

I suppose I owe you a debt of thanks. I don't know why you helped me (your explanation was extremely brief), and I'm not entirely thrilled that you pulled that trick on me, but the result is that you saved my life. Well done you. The question which springs to mind instantly is 'what do you want out of it?' What do I have to do to lose the debt? You're a shrewd person, Draco, and you do everything for a reason. So, what was the reason this time? Send Hedwig back with the reply.

Yours, Harry Potter.

I turned the letter over and found a post-script.

Ps – Be careful what you wish for, Draco. Any stupid requests and I'll just forget the whole thing.

His formality surprised me – I suppose I was unused to regarding him as someone to be taken seriously until the bathroom incident, and after that I had seen him as a tempestuous child with unexpected powers. Yet he wrote like a mature adult.

After rereading the letter twice I sat back, my mind whizzing through possibilities. I hadn't foreseen anything like this. Silly Gryffindors, so bothered about their duty and doing what was right. Slytherins are far more sensible. You saved my life? Wow, thanks! For that I won't curse you to oblivion. I had believed that my interaction with Harry Potter had finished the second I Apparated out of that wretched shop. I would never have gone chasing him for payment off my own bat. But here he was offering me anything I asked for. Well, nearly anything. It was almost too good to be true. How much did Potter value his own life? I wondered. What sort of price would he be willing to pay in return for it? His Snowy Owl, Hedwig, hooted impatiently and I rooted around in my desk for some owl treats to shut her up. Decisions like this simply could not be rushed.

Two hours later and I was still musing. One could not simply ask for the latest broomstick, or a thousand galleons. Here was a chance for me to escape this hellish mess I was caught in. A chance for me to escape Lord Voldemort. Or was it? Potter was not the world's best at protecting others and people who were close to him tended to experience fatal doses of Avada Kadavra. If I publicly crossed to Potter's side, asking for his protection as my payment, then Lord Voldemort would hunt me down. Even failed Deatheaters are expected to be completely loyal. I didn't fancy making myself and my family a target, and anyway, crossing to Potter's side would sever all remaining fragile ties between me and my father. He would disown me, and almost certainly try to kill me himself, in an attempt to prove his own loyalty to the Dark Lord. So I could not simply take this as a ticket out. I had to be subtle. I had to gain without losing. Finally I decided on my reply. I copied his formal tone, determined to maintain the distance between us. I still hated him; I still didn't want to get close to him. Carefully I laid out my request so that it would not seem like a plea but a demand. I had no intention of appearing weakened.

Potter,

Very well then, if you feel indebted to me then who am I to argue? I want immunity from your Aurors for me and my mother. Neither of us has committed any crime, yet the Daily Prophet is full of letters clamouring for me to be sent to Azkaban. 'Degraded Prisoner' is so not my look and I don't do dirt. Moreover, my mother's mental health is fragile at the moment. I want a personal promise from you that if I am caught by Aurors neither I nor my mother will be sent to Azkaban, I will not be tortured and she will not be upset. Surely this a reasonable price for saving the life of the great Chosen One?

Draco Malfoy.

I sealed the envelope with a blob of red wax, and then pressed my ring into the wax whilst it was still soft. When I lifted my ring the impression of the Malfoy crest remained. A black cat (very Mal Fois) wearing a serpent entwined around its neck as a collar. Malfoys traditionally have cats as pets in deference to the crest, which is why I had Misty. He didn't wear a real serpent, but his golden collar was in the shape of one, with small rubies for the eyes. I reached out to stroke him, and his purr vibrated against my fingertips. Misty. Another point on which I had disagreed with my father. He wanted me to have a black cat, as befitted a Malfoy, and when I stuck through thick and thin to Misty (a gift from an old friend of mine who died long ago) I was allowed to keep him on the condition that he didn't go to Hogwarts with me. When I returned after my first term I was convinced that I'd find Misty drowned in the pond. My fears were unrealised; he greeted me with his customary 'prrrp' and I understood that my mother must have persuaded my father to tolerate him.

Hedwig had almost fallen asleep, but her eyes snapped open when I walked over to her and tied the letter to her leg. I opened the window for her and she flew away into the darkening sky. Dusk was falling. I wondered how long she'd take to reach Potter, and I envisioned him, perhaps lying on his bed reading, looking up when she reached the window, much as I had. I imagined his feelings when he saw my letter – apprehension, fear? Did he dread the answer, fearing that I'd ask too much? Was he just impatient to close this chapter of his life? What would his answer be? Restlessness seized me. Already the waiting was getting to me, and it was only a few minutes after the owl had left. In frustration I grabbed my broomstick and went for an evening flight over Malfoy grounds. When I returned, tired and exhilarated, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Hedwig was back the following morning. A very fast turn-around, indicating that Potter was staying in South England, like me. Most likely in London. As I let the exhausted owl in, she gave a disgruntled hoot and sat on the back of the chair again. With trembling fingers I broke the blank seal and pulled out the parchment.

Draco,

I know that you haven't committed any crimes. I saw you with Dumbledore, and I know it was Snape, not you, who killed him. I know that you didn't want to. That said, the deal you propose will only work if you remain blameless. I can not shelter you if you have killed muggles, or tortured people or helped Lord Voldemort in any way that leads to the pain of others. I understand that you are in danger and want to help you. I can promise you the protection you want for you and your mother only if you keep to the terms I laid out above.

However, there was a reason I was near Malfoy Manor three days ago. I want something which I have reason to believe should be somewhere in your house. Your father may not even know it's there, but I have reliable information telling me it is in your attics. I am referring to a small golden cup with two finely wrought handles and an engraving of a badger on it. If you find it and get it to me, Draco, I will offer you and your mother complete asylum forever, no matter what your crimes are. This is an offer I do not think you can afford to pass up.

Harry Potter.

Ps – Draco, this cup is important to Voldemort, so I will not lie to you. If he catches you with it he will kill you. If you take it to him I doubt you will receive much gratitude; he hid it for a reason.

Oh, and if you want to earn a little extra, you wouldn't have any idea who the initials R.A.B belong to would you? Someone who was probably murdered by Lord Voldemort.

Frowning, I reached for a blank piece of parchment.

Potter,

First off, have you no consideration for your bird? Hedwig is about to collapse and I doubt she would survive another trip. The owl I'm sending this with is called Mercury, and he's allergic to owl treats. Do NOT feed him. I will charge you for a new bird if you do and he chokes to death.

Secondly, how the hell am I supposed to find this cup in my house? Do you have any idea how large Malfoy Manor attics are? And what the hell is it? If Voldemort values it so highly it doesn't sound like the sort of thing I really want to handle. I'll keep an eye out for it, but I would appreciate a touch more information about what I'll be risking my life for.

Thirdly, our primary deal starts the second you read these words – if I am arrested tomorrow I expect to see you there, ready to bail me out in an instant.

And finally, I recall a relative of mine named Regulus Black, a Deatheater who was killed a while ago. He was the brother of your godfather Sirius. I'm a bit hazy on the details. Could this be your R.A.B? What do I get if it is?

Draco Malfoy.

I folded the letter into an envelope, sealed and addressed it and then opened my windows and leant out. Hedwig shifted tiredly, but I ignored her and gave a shrill whistle. No reply. I whistled again. Still nothing, and then, there! A shadowy shape soaring through the morning haze towards me. I held out my arm and the Eagle Owl flared his wings and latched onto it gently. Hedwig hooted behind me in alarm behind me and I laughed as I pulled my torso back into the room, Mercury clinging on.

"Does he scare you, Snowy?" Mercury was certainly an impressive owl, weighing in at near 8.5 pounds. My arm ached already from supporting him. "Don't worry; he doesn't eat owls unless I tell him to." Mercury clicked his large beak impatiently and I tied the letter to his leg, then walked back to the window and leant out. "Off you go." He opened his wings with a clap and flapped away. Hedwig hooted softly and I tossed her some owl treats. "Get some rest, Snowy. Misty's too well behaved to bother you."

I had nothing planned for the day, and despite my feigned disinterest in truth I was extremely curious about the cup Potter described. Whatever it was, it was important enough that he was willing to forgive all misdemeanours to secure it. It was obviously a valuable bargaining piece and I intended to find it. As I set off for the attics I passed my mother's rooms and glanced in at her. She was propped up by pillows, reading, a serene expression on her face. I didn't want to disturb her, but she glanced up and saw me before I could withdraw.

"Good morning Draco." I entered the room and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Good morning Mother. How are you this morning?"

"It's cold," she complained.

"It's a glorious summer morning, Mother. See, the sun is shining." I pointed out of the window. "Perhaps if you came out into the garden and read there?"

"Perhaps," she agreed. "I don't know why, but this house is so cold. It's like I'm a tiny flame wandering around, and I can't warm the rooms up." I laughed at the image.

"If it truly bothers you, Mother, have the elves build you a fire." She nodded, and then a light entered her eyes.

"Draco, I've just had the most marvellous idea! Your new school term is coming up, and you'll need new sets of robes. How about a trip to London, to Twilfitt and Tatting's? And lunch at Rossini's? What do you say?" My heart sank as I saw the genuine joy in her eyes at the prospect. Even though she was sitting right next to me, my mother was far away, in a place where I was still going to Hogwarts and we could walk around London like anyone else.

"Not today, Mother," I said gently, my heart breaking as the light faded. "Perhaps tomorrow."

"Yes, maybe," she replied, and I could hear the disappointment loud and clear.

I frowned, groping for a way to give her life any meaning.

"Perhaps we could invite Aunt Bellatrix to lunch?" She smiled genuinely and I felt a profound sadness. Must I hide the truth from you always? Must I always fob you off with other amusements, all the time finding excuse after excuse to confine you to the Manor? Forgive me, Mother. Forgive me.

"Yes. I have not seen Bella for too long. It would be good to have her over."

"Write the invitation and I'll send it now," I promised. She opened a drawer in her bedside table and took out parchment and a quill. I leant over her shoulder and read her words.

Dearest Bella,

Would you and Rudolphus like to come over to lunch today? Just a small affair, I'm afraid-

She paused mid-sentence.

"Will Lucius be there?"

"And me," I told her. She resumed her letter.

Just a small affair, I'm afraid. The three of us and the two of you. It would do Draco good to see his Aunt again, and it would do me good to see you too.

Love, Cissy.

"There. Good?"

"Perfect," I assured her. Praying that Aunt Bellatrix would accept, I crossed to the fireplace, started a fire and flung some Floo Powder onto the flames.

"Erebos!" The flames blazed green, opening up a pathway between Malfoy Manor and my Aunt's mansion, Erebos. I tossed the letter into the flames and watched as it vanished.

"That's warmer now," my mother said happily.

Less than two minutes later the flames burned emerald green and a sheet of parchment flew out from them into my hand.

Cissy,

Of course I'll come. I shall see you later this morning.

Bellatrix.

Relief flooded me. I was a pariah, and many of the Deatheaters were avoiding us, much to my father's annoyance. But Aunt Bellatrix was there when we needed her. My Aunt, a woman who had little patience for her own sister's illness, and yet who would come when asked for. A woman embittered and maddened by Azkaban, who prized strength and despised weakness, and yet still capable of recognising her sister's need for comfort. Still able to respond. I admired her so much for it.

"Mother, she says she'll come," I cried joyfully. My mother lifted her eyes from her book, confusion on her face.

"Who, Draco?" Helplessness flooded through me. I'm losing you, I'm losing you! You're right here, and yet you're slipping through my fingers. Come back, Mother, please, please come back.

"Aunt Bellatrix, Mother. She's coming to lunch." My mother positively beamed.

"How wonderful! But Draco, I look simply frightful! I must wash, dress. Oh, it's such short notice, but she does insist on doing this, does Bella. Always has done." I leant down and kissed her forehead gently.

"You look beautiful, Mother." She laughed.

"It's nice of you to say so, Draco."

I left her chirping happily to Sparky about what dress she wanted to wear, I had no doubt she would look stunning. My mother may have lost her wits but she could walk through a national disaster and emerge without a hair out of place. It's a Malfoy gift, I suppose. Malfoy. Looking at my parents, you could not distinguish between them and say who was originally Malfoy and who wasn't. Both have the platinum blonde hair, the stunning looks, and the high cheek bones. We are blessed as a family, I suppose. My Mother had even somehow managed to have the Malfoy eyes, despite being born Black. The Malfoy eyes. Liquid gold some days, molten silver others, they shifted according to our mood swings. It seemed almost inconceivable that my father was originally engaged to Aunt Bellatrix. What a contrast she made to us! How ill-suited a pair they would have looked. But perhaps they would have matched each other in temperament. I could just imagine them both fuming over the latest development in this war whilst enjoying a glass of port in the library. My mother rarely drank, much to my father's dismay.

I loved my mother very much. And I had a duty to her as a Malfoy. Familial obligations are the one aspect of duty Slytherins do tend to have. I resolved to find this strange cup Potter wanted so much, not just for my sake, but for my mother's as well.

Haha – time to meet the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange next chapter! I can't wait to write her; she's such a cool character! Anyways, now that you've read it allow me to point you to the little 'Submit Review' button down at the bottom…