Managed to write this chapter just in time before I go for my school immersion trip :)

"How did you know Bilius would be in today?" Arthur leaned in closer to probe him.

"It's fairly simple," Lucius gave a crooked smile, having difficulty in keeping his voice crisp over the ruckus coming from The Burrow. "Today is your…son's birthday."

"My son is called Ron."

"Such personal things do not concern me. Arthur. I only wish to speak to Bilius."

Arthur's mouth twitched and he grudgingly allowed Lucius to step in.

The inside of The Burrow was more noisy than usual. Its compact space was packed, with some parts of it having people that had their shoulders touching one another. There was the shrill pop of a bottle and Molly Weasley was scrambling. "Have some turkey, Harry dear. George, tell me, just what are you doing? Someone please bring the plates here! And Ron-" Molly realised that all eyes were looking ahead of her.

The house went quiet for once and Lucius regally stood at the head of the crowd, waiting impatiently. Molly swelled up and fume was spewing from her.

"Oh no," George murmured. Harry nodded in silent agreement and carefully sipped on his cup of Brandy.

"LUCIUS MALFOY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT!" Molly wielded her recipe book and madly waved it in the air. "WHO BROUGHT HIM HERE?"

Lucius casually gestured at Arthur, who sheepishly fumbled for an explanation, "Well…well you see…Mollywobbles, he was…well, I was…"

Molly stomped up to Lucius, causing him to flinch slightly. The dishes floating behind her were spinning out of control. "YOU BASTARD! THINK YOU CAN FOOL ME? AND…and SPOOK MY FAMILY AGAIN?" Ginny looked down at her plate and Harry wrapped his arm around her. "YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M GOING TO TURN YOU INTO…INTO-"

"Mom, don't." Ron hurriedly restrained her.

Molly struggled to put her wand down, "Oh all right, but only because it's your birthday, Ron."

"What do you want, Mr Malfoy?" Ron's question was terse.

"I thought you would never ask." Lucius twirled his cane. "Where is Bilius Weasley?"

"WHO'S BILIUS? Am I Bilius?" A man a few years older than Arthur got up. He was almost bald and had barely any strands of ginger hair on his head.

Percy, who had been keeping mum, smacked his palm against his forehead. "He wants Uncle Bilius? Out of all people?"

"Not now, Percy," his wife Audrey hushed him.

"But who would want him?"

"I'm sure, Percy, that your Uncle was a fine man."

"He was, until he became a divorcee and got introduced to Whiskey. I don't understand why the Ministry keeps him."

Bilius put on his glasses, his breath reeking of alcohol, "You look familiar…"

Lucius firmly shook his hand, "Lucius Malfoy. Pleasure to meet you. Now, shall we discuss matters outside?"

Arthur gladly ushered them towards the door, but Molly blocked their way, "Oh no you don't! You will not fool my brother-in-law or harm him in any way or do any dark magic of sort. You are going to stay right here."

Lucius pressed his lips together in distaste. "Very well, then." George served himself a slice of pie, appearing to be enjoying himself compared to the others. "I've a son, Bilius, and I think it's about time he found himself a wife." George's cutlery slipped out of his hands and he banged on the table, roaring with laughter. The room was prompted to erupt into chaotic buzzing.

"Draco? Having a wife? You've got to be kidding me."

"Merlin's beard!"

"Draco Malfoy? The student who was a Death Eater?"

"This is ridiculous!"

"I can't do with this any longer." Molly retreated into the kitchen, rubbing her temples, with Arthur following after her.

The Golden Trio looked at one another helplessly. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she was bursting with her own thoughts. Harry and Ron were equally perplexed.

"Quiiierrrt!" Bilius yelled drowsily and the room turned sullen. Bilius opened a bottle and shakily raised it towards Lucius, before drinking straight from it.

"Thank you Bilius," Lucius answered with feigned gratefulness. "As I was saying, knowing that you are an Auror with many outstanding accomplishments- "

Percy sputtered, "I beg to differ."

"You have a family that is of my respect. And as such, I would like to propose arranging for your daughter to meet my son."

A girl with her hair tightly scrunched into a bun sat up straight with indignance, but inside of her she was fighting with fear. "Daddy, you…you can't!"

"I'm sorry, but I have to disagree with this," Hermione protested and nobody dared to say otherwise. "Mr Bilius' daughter has the right to make her own decisions and what you are doing Mr Malfoy, is completely uncalled for."

"Are you saying this as someone who, perhaps, thinks she knows more than she does?"

"Don't you dare say that about Hermione!" Ron's face was screwed up in anger.

"Brightest witch of her age…but doesn't hold a job…hmm…I must say…what a strange phenomenon…"

Hermione was crushed and Ron would not stand it, "She is planning out her campaign for Elf Rights and next year, she'll finish her final year in Hogwarts. And she'll join the Ministry, which I think she greatly deserves."

Lucius waved Ron off. "The important thing now is what you think, Bilius."

"Don't listen to him, Uncle Bilius!"

Lucius placed a gold bar in Bilius' hands. Bilius' eyes widened in wonderment, "Gold…"

"I can promise you, Bilius," Lucius cooed, "You will have a hefty repayment...that is all I have to say. Whether you take the deal or not is entirely your choice."

"YES! YES!" The room could only stare at Bilius, speechless.

OvO

Sir,

Let me just say that Alice has left me as a friend for good. It's a long story but in short, she thinks that I don't care about anyone except for myself. It's ironic to me, because that's exactly what I said to Draco. I don't know Sir, if I've overestimated my position to tell others they're wrong. I am ashamed of myself. To think I thought that just doing one good deed can cover up the fact that I'm spoilt.

I guess I've a lot to think about. Maybe I can learn from you, Sir. Even though you are kind of a boring, old man (who still hasn't told me if he's bald), I like to think that you are a selfless person. For you to be willing to spend on others, you can't possibly have been a spoilt child like me. I really want to redeem myself, but I don't know what I should do. I only know I can't ask you, because you don't reply to my letters.

Astoria Greengrass

OvO

Sir,

I've learnt that I'm a cowardly person. Today Samira asked me to have a minute with her. She didn't say much, she just wanted to say that she's sorry for being mean to me. I appreciate what she did, I never expected it.

I don't get it Sir, why people can be good, but I can't? Why couldn't I tell Samira that I'm sorry for thinking badly of her? Or why didn't I want to apologise to Alice? Why did I keep Draco's Drooble Gum for myself? I don't understand. Daphne told me when we were young, that there's only the bad and good. No one can stand in the middle.

Samira was bad, now she's good. I think. What does 'bad' even mean? And she did a single good thing to me, so is she truly good? Alice has to be good, her father too. I don't think it would be fair for me to judge them. Draco's such a virtuous, kind person. If it wasn't for something that he said a few days ago, I would have said he's good for sure. Except that I'm not sure if he's supposed to be bad now. I feel like it's Daphne's fault that I'm this confused.

Astoria Greengrass

OvO

Sir,

Did you have a proper childhood? Professor Slughorn was telling us stories today, about how he as a child modified a Potion to grow different types of beards. I feel very bothered, because I tried to do some recollection and I couldn't remember much about my childhood at all. Of course, I do remember those few years that preceded going to Hogwarts. How my parents said that I'm hopeless at painting. How Daphne was a pain. But I mean when I was just a few years old. I remember absolutely nothing. There's not even one thing that happened at that time that I can think of. That frustrates me, because I must have worried a lot less then.

People always say that in bad times, we should draw on the good times. Thinking about Alice hurts. Draco and I had interesting times and it felt nice whenever he helps or listens to me, I'm not sure if I should think about that though. It reminds me of our recent row. Maybe I should think about Hagrid. But thinking about Hagrid makes me think about Lucius Malfoy, which therefore makes me again confused about whether he belongs to the bad or good. Perhaps I should think about George and his joke shop. That's where I met Hermione and Ron too (but I sadly did not see Harry Potter). I should stick to that.

Astoria Greengrass

OvO

Draco sat in his study, thoughtful. He could remember his childhood easily— it was one of mundane eventfulness. He preferred to think of it from a child's perspective, how he used to see it.

Every day in the Malfoy Manor was social gatherings. His mother Narcissa would dress him up in those black robes that made him feel mighty and fuss over him throughout the morning. Thereafter would be a gathering that lasted into the night. There would be the continuous arrival of wizards and witches. He used to be afraid of them and hide in a corner. Some looked too stern for his liking. Some looked plain hideous. Some seemed normal enough, until words that sounded revolting started pouring from their acid tongues. Eventually his mother would convince him that he was being silly and bring him around to get to know his 'extended family'. Many of them would comment on how he bore an uncanny resemblance to his father. That was always his favourite part.

He hardly talked to his father. He was always socialising and using big words. He would constantly talk about 'the fall' and 'return' of someone. He wondered why his father never cared about other things. Surely talking about people falling and returning could not sustain a conversation for that long.

There was only that one time back then, where his father actually spoke to him at length.

Lucius bent down to have a good look at him, as if he was meeting him for the first time. He looked back at his father and after what seemed like forever, Lucius remarked, "You need to cut your hair."

"I don't want to. I want long hair, just like you."

"I won't let you."

"Why not?"

Lucius was stumped. "Do you want to know a secret?"

Draco was nodding eagerly. This was the first time his father was telling him something important.

"But you have to promise you won't tell your anyone."

"I won't."

"Good boy." Lucius tousled his hair, which at that time was long enough to reach his shoulders. "When I went to school, the boys there were strong, brave, smart, I wanted to be…to be…"

"Their friends?"

"A bit more than that."

"Best friends?"

"Close enough. Yes." Lucius smiled with a tinge of sadness. "I didn't think I was brave like them. So I thought, maybe if I had long hair, they would think that I'm pretty."

"Pretty? But that's only for girls."

"That's what my father told me. I learnt a lesson, that as men, the world needs us to be strong. Not like girls, they only know how to cry. It is by being in control that we have a purpose here. That's what I want you to learn."

"Why didn't you cut your hair, Father?"

"That's…something for another day." Lucius tried to steer this conversation in another direction and popped a ring in Draco's hand, the ring that always fell out of his pocket.

"What's this, Father?" Draco was transfixed on this treasure and was playing around with it.

"My father gave it to me. It's called a purity ring. So that I always remember that wizards like us must stay pure."

"What do you mean?"

"In this world, Draco, there are two kinds of wizards. The first kind is like you, their parents, their ancestors are all wizards. And there's the other kind, where their family has Muggles in it."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I want you to listen very carefully." Draco stopped and looked at Lucius, swearing to himself that he would remember this for the rest of his life. "See this ring? How it's shiny, clean? Would you throw it into dirt?"

"No, that would ruin it."

"Exactly. This ring, it represents the pure wizard blood that runs through us. And those wizards that are born of Muggles, they are like the dirt we step on. They threaten our existence. That's why we call them Mudblood."

"Mudblood," Draco uttered to himself. "Father, you wouldn't let me become like that, would you?"

"Never. That is something that I can promise you."