Chapter Twenty-Two : A Little Bird Told Me

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He tried to kill me.

He almost succeeded.

And still...I miss him.

More than I should be allowed to miss him.

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Draco received his own bed in Severus' room once they were settled in Grimmauld Place. He had been asked if he wanted his own room, to which he had promptly and ,more embarrassingly, loudly stated that he would not. He would share Severus' room. He felt safer there, with someone of his own mind-set. Slytherin's, while solitary creatures, were known to work together in times of crisis.

A war on a Dark Wizard certainly counted as a 'time of crisis' in Draco's mind.

A knock on the door drew Draco's attention from his new bed - tiny compared to his one at the manor.

"All settled, love?" Molly asked, smiling warmly around the door frame. "Come down and get something to nibble on. I put out an assortment of foods and drinks to celebrate our new home."

It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to snap that this was not, nor would it ever be, his home. He didn't speak. Instead, he quietly followed the elder woman down the stairs and into the kitchen, where everyone else had gathered. Draco took the spare seat beside Severus, who looked increasingly frustrated at having been dragged into the 'celebration'.

Draco, unaware that he looked mildly terrified of being surrounded by Gryffindors, started when he felt someone take his hand beneath the table cloth. He slanted a look, to see Severus looking apathetic, but keeping a close watch on him none the less.

Draco gave him a slight smile, and began to eat some of the food spread before him. He received strange looks, but no one commented as to why he was eating with his left hand, unaware that his right hand was currently tangled with the sour Potion Master's.

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The note was finished. The Craven was sent for again, and set free out the window, silver eyes keeping a close watch on the bird to make sure it was no intercepted.

"Sir?" The girl's voice behind him said, sounding afraid. "Will this work? Do you really think he'd help us?"

"No," Lucius said stiffly. "He won't. But my son will."

The girl looked confused, but knew better then to ask about his son, who she had been told didn't exist and yet now he was often mentioned. She reached out for the copy they had made of the letter, which Lucius would later burn.

Slave,

every moment you're away from us, means hell to pay when you return. Everything is falling quickly and perfectly into place. I loathe very much how you outright defy me. I will not be so unfathomably quick to forgive next time we unfortunately meet. Slave, do not try my patience

- Master

To her, it was nonsense, but to the man they had sent it too, perhaps he would find the hidden meaning. She desperately hoped that he would.

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Severus had been dragged away to help prepare potions. Apparently, Madame Pomfrey was running low and everyone in the order knew that Snape was the best potion's master around. So he was given no choice, he had to make potions.

This left Draco to his own devices.

He wasn't allowed to help clean - thank Merlin - due to the fact he still got light-headed easily and Mrs. Weasley was in full mothering mode. He had found one of the libraries, covered in dust and obviously decaying with disuse. He hesitated at the doorway, before stepping through. There was something...dark about the library, and not only because of the lack of lights.

When he reached the first bookcase, he reared back and stared in disgust at the books.

Necromancy. Blood magic. Sacrifices.

The Dark Lord would have swooned in delight at having these books in his disposal. Draco snarled, and grasped the first book, throwing it as far as he could across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a heavy thud, crashing to the ground, pages slipping out without notice.

He heard thundering footsteps approaching and waited for the golden trio, or some other order members to burst in, but all was silent as they approached the door.

"What was that noise?" Granger. So it was the golden trio.

"I don't know. Maybe one of the paintings got annoyed?" Potter suggested, sounding right out side the door. Draco scowled. Merlin, they are dumb. Why not check this room?

"Harry, the only paintings in his hallway are of landscapes," Granger said, somewhat patronisingly, as if Potter was a two year old. Draco barely resisted the urge to snicker.

What Granger had said sunk in quickly though, and Draco frowned. There had been paintings of deceased relatives when he had walked down the hallway. He had been cussed by a few of them, and one or two had offered him eternal life if they took them out of the hallway. Apparently, it wasn't used much and they got lonely.

So why were they only landscapes?

Draco approached the door, touching the handle and yanking it inwards, expecting to see an unfamiliar hallway and the trio's shocked faces.

It was the hallway of portraits. Several on the wall opposite the door gave him odd looks and he blinked, slamming the door shut.

"What was that?" Weasley squeaked, his voice loud in the room as if he stood beside Draco.

"It sounded like a door," Granger said confused. "But there aren't any doors here."

Draco turned his back to the door he'd entered, and began to look at the books again. The one he had thrown across the room had left a bare space in the book case, a tiny sliver of light shining through. He grabbed the next book along the shelf, throwing it to the side.

He would be lying if he said he didn't delight in the trio's confused mutters at the noise he was making. When the shelf had been cleared, a screen was revealed. The tiny fracture of light was coming from one end, so Draco pulled at the screen. It slid across it's rusted frame with a shriek that Weasley echoed nearby.

"Those sneaky bastards," Draco muttered, staring into the face of the golden trio. The screen was hidden behind one of the landscape paintings, hiding him from view but giving him a clear picture of the trio.

"Mal-Draco?" Potter called, brows furrowing cutely in his confusion. Draco snickered.

"Potter, go around the other hallway. With the portraits," Draco suggested, sounding amused. "Weasley, Granger, stay there."

They hesitated, but Potter - stupid, trusting Potter - did as Draco suggested and jogged out of view.

"Why is he so trusting to Malfoy?" Weasley muttered, causing Draco to flinch back. Malfoy. He wasn't a damn Malfoy anymore!"Sure, I mean, they're innocent of the whole, murdering Dumbledore thing, but what about the being jerks, trying to kill us, get us in trouble, expelled, and all those kind of things!"

"Grow up, Ron," Granger responded firmly. "We're not kids in school anymore. We're at war. At some point you're going to have to put aside petty differences and realise that."

The door squeaked behind Draco and he turned, looking at Potter peering around the frame. "Draco?" He repeated, squinting.

"It's me, Potter," Draco said, and motioned him over, knowing the light of the secret window would lead him towards him. He turned back, snickering at Granger and Weasley's confused faces once more.

"What the-" Potter muttered, reaching Draco's side. "It's a secret window."

"Harry?" Weasley asked, looking around the hallway but seeing no sight of his mate.

"The landscape in front of you, Ron," Harry prompted, and pressed his hand to the back of the picture. He made it dome out a bit. Ron's eyes went wide.

"Mate, you're behind the picture?" Ron asked, disbelieving.

"We're in a library, Weasel," Draco snorted. "The builders must have put in looking-glass in paintings so that the owners could keep an eye on guests or people who live here."

"That's so disgusting," Granger announced. "Spying on people instead of just talking to them."

"I wonder how many others are around here," Harry pointed out."This wouldn't be the only one, or else it would be really useless."

"Check the bedrooms." Draco smirked.

"That's disgusting, Draco!" Hermione squawked.

Weasley, however, had a curious look on his face. "No, he's right, Hermione. The bedrooms would be the obvious place. Without people around, anyone who was staying or lived here would have thought they were safe to speak freely, giving the owners valuable information about what was really going on in the house hold."

Hermione frowned, but nodded. "It is still disgusting."

Draco jumped when Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. "How did you find this one, Draco?" Harry asked, ignoring how the male started at his touch.

Remembering the content of the books, Draco scowled. "Dumb luck and anger," he muttered, before jerking away from Harry. "I'm getting out of here, and if you were smart, you would too, Potter." He stalked away before Harry could say another word.

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"What was all that about?" Ron muttered, and Harry shrugged, forgetting that his friends couldn't see him. He looked at the door that Draco had left through, an odd expression on his face.

"I'll follow him," Harry said, almost without conscious thought. "He shouldn't be on his own if he's angry. Not around here."

"And you following him would calm him, Harry?" Hermione asked, disbelieving. "Harry?" She prompted, after no response. "Harry!" She thumped the painting. "Harry! Don't you dare get yourself killed because of that boy!"

"Killed?" Ron blanched.

"You know what their tempers are like, Ron," Hermione sighed. "If Draco is angry, and Harry is pushy, then what do you think will happen?"

"You're right. I just hope this old house can take a bit of wild magic without tumbling down."

"Me too, Ron." Hermione sighed again, but giggled as Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pretending to yawn. It was early morning, so he had no right to be yawning, which just made the move all the more amusing.

"Wanna go take a nap?" Ron suggested, his grin anything but innocent.

"No," Hermione said firmly, slipping out of his hold. She smiled at his downtrodden expression, before offering, "but you can come with me to the library if you want."

Ron considered for a moment, before nodding. "It's better then nothing," he said, almost to himself, grabbing hold of Hermione's hand. Both of them blushed at the contact, and the two other boys were forgotten for the moment.

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"Draco! Wait up!" Harry called out, jogging after the irritated blond, who ignored his calls. "Oi! Don't pretend you can't hear me." He grabbed the slender arm, momentarily surprised at how...small it was. He supposed it was all the stress and not eating, but still, after a few weeks with Mrs. Weasley, he should have been pretty plump.

"Don't touch me, Potter!" Draco snapped, jerking out of his hold but finally stopping.

"I was just holding your arm, Draco, not molesting you," Harry tried to joke, but Draco's gaze just turned more furious.

"Well last time you got all caring, you did molest me, so sorry for not believing you!"

"M-molest?" Harry blanched. "I kissed you. Once! And I didn't feel you fight back!"

"I wasn't healthy, Potter. You took advantage of me when I was weak!" Draco growled. Weak. When wasn't he weak?

Harry looked horrified. "I didn't...I mean, I wouldn't...I didn't mean to..."

Draco could have laughed, but he didn't.

"I was trying to comfort you," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Well next time potter, try not caring. It's so much bloody easier," Draco snarled and shoved passed Potter. This time, the bespectacled boy didn't reach out to grab him, and Draco felt a momentary pang of regret.

Stupid, disgusting and just wrong or not, the Kiss had, for a moment, made him feel safe.

Potter made him feel safe.

Which made him wonder why he fought so hard to keep him away.

Maybe because I'm not safe, Draco thought bitterly. Not even here.

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Dinner was a quiet affair. The table was full, but no one spoke until the dishes were cleared. They were asked to stay seated at the table though, and from the grim expression on Severus' face, Draco knew this was not a happy talk.

"We received a missive from...a death eater," Remus started tensely. "Not intended to us, but we intercepted it."

"How do you know it was a death eater then?" Harry asked.

"We recognised the Crav- ... the bird," Remus said, cutting himself off half way through the word.

Craven. Draco froze. The crow and raven hybrid was a sign of wealth, which many of the Death Eaters no longer had. They had been used by the Malfoy family for generations. He stole a glance at Severus, who was similarly frozen.

"Well, read it out then," Arthur prompted, sounding tired.

As Remus began to read, Draco tried to place any secret messages, any code words his father used to use, but by the end, he was no more the wiser then Severus, who looked similarly confused. As the order began to discuss the letter, Severus cleared his throat.

"May I see?" He requested coldly. Mad-Eye Moody grunted, and handed over the letter he was holding now.

"It's not the only copy," he growled, "so don't go trying any funny business."

Severus sneered, and placed the letter down by his left hand, allowing Draco to look.

A few of the letters were darker then others, Draco realised. As if someone had pressed harder. He glanced at Severus, who was scanning the letter but didn't seem to notice the pattern yet. Draco turned to his other side.

"Granger," he hissed quietly. "Give me a quill."

She looked confused. Probably wondering how he knew that she alwys had a quill on her person somewhere, and handed it over reluctantly. It was a self-inking quill thankfully, even if the ink was running low.

He didn't thank her, and instead turned back to the letter.

He had the attention of the table as he pulled the letter close to him, out of Severus' grasp and began to write.

Severus, help our escape. I love you. Lucius.

Granger attempted to lean over to read what he wrote, but he covered it, sliding it back to Severus, pale faced, to read first.

Severus' fists clenched, and a snarl formed on his face. "Pathetic bastard," he snapped quietly. Draco wasn't sure what he was more angry about. The fact Lucius had made contact, the fact he dared to ask for help...or the fact that Lucius had inadvertently outed Severus to the Order.

"You miswrote here," Severus said calmly, taking the quill from Draco's limp fingers, and scrawled a 'D' at the end of 'I love You', making out to have been addressed to Draco, rather then Severus, as it had intended to be.

Adequately changed, or as much as he was able to, Severus slid the letter across to the order, who huddled around it.

"A message to a traitor, to save a coward," Moody chortled. Arthur sent him a warning glance, looking over at Draco and Severus, both pale now.

Help us, the letter begged.

Us.

Not me.

Us.

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"Are you alright, love?" Molly asked, offering Draco a cup of peppermint tea. The order had retired to discuss the letter, and decide what they were going to do. They had the Craven captive, so they could follow it back to it's sender, if they planned right.

"Fine," Draco said tensely, taking the cup. Severus, and the golden trio had gone with the order to discuss, but Draco had refused. He wanted no part of this.

Molly sighed, and sat down next to him on the thread bare couch. She didn't ask permission, and wrapped an arm around him, drawing him close. He tensed. "It's alright to miss him, love," she whispered into his hair, stroking his arm motherly. "Bastard or not, he's your daddy."

Draco stayed tense, and sipped his tea, as if he wasn't leaning on the plump woman, warm for the first time in weeks.

"I knew him in school you know," Molly continued to talk, sipping her own tea, and keeping her arm around him. "He was a bit of a jerk, but he ruled the school." She continued to talk, her voice melodious - well, not really, but it reminded him somewhat of his mothers, which made up for the odd accent she occasionally had with some letters - and soothing.

As the tea began to disappear, his muscles were beginning to relax, she pressed gently and he rested his head on her shoulder, listening to how his mother and father had met. He knew the story from Mother and from Father, but had never heard an outsider say it, except for Severus when Draco had been much younger.

"They were in love as soon as they met. I think Lucius knew he'd met the woman he'd love forever when he saw her." Molly smiled, rubbing his arm.

Draco wanted to snort, knowing that was a lie. Perhaps when Severus and Father met, yes, but not Mother. Mother, while loved, was not the love of Lucius' life, and now it appeared that Severus wasn't either.

"Can people change?" Draco asked, in one of the pauses in the story, unsure of why he'd asked. He had blurted it out, without conscious thought, but he didn't regret the question.

"Yes," Molly said instantly, before hesitating, "but not all people change for the better."

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The army of Aurors breached the gate of the manor faster then Lucius had expected them too. He was in his room, overlooking the entrance to the manor. The Dark Lord had, of course, already fled and the remaining death eaters had as well. All that was left, was Lucius and his bride.

They were expected to flee, to run away and hide with the death eaters. They wouldn't be under suspicion, Lucius knew, because it was his home the Aurors were now destroying. Possessions. Trinkets. Things he had picked up. Memories.

He would make new ones, he decided firmly, staring out the window.

"Sir?" The breathy female voice behind him asked. She was dressed in one of Narcissa's robes, which had delighted the Dark Lord at dinner that evening. It was now close to midnight, and all should have been sleeping, had it not been for the Aurors.

"It is time," Lucius said stiffly, and turned to face his bride. "Prepare yourself."

She firmed her shoulders, tilted her jaw back, and aimed the borrowed wand at him. As he raised his own, he thought he saw a flash of delight in her eyes as she uttered the stunning spell aimed at him. He hit the floor with a heavy thud and she took a deep breath. She could run, she realised, but she didn't. Instead she twisted her wrist and pointed the wand at herself and whispered the same spell, her wand catching alight - disposing itself. A useful trick that a death eater had constructed. The wand was gone, and so was the memory of spells used. Lucius had fired off several stunning spells earlier, as well as defensive spells, as if he had tried to ward off an 'attack' which left them stunned in their bedroom.

They laid in wait, unconscious, as their soon to be captors approached the room, wands drawn and preparing to fight.

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Author's Note:

Just what is Lucius up to? Oh well, you'll see next chapter.

I'm going to be honest with you guys, this story was started almost three years ago (back in '08, weird huh?) and I'm running out of inspiration for it. This has already veered off from it's intended target into something much larger then planned, so I will warn you now, this story may end abruptly, but it will end, I won't abandon it. The sequel, when written, will be far shorter then this story though.

I want to thank everyone who has been a support in this story. You're the reason I keep going with this story.

Also, thank you to the reviews for last chapter!

Until next time, angels,

-Liaa