A/N: hey guys! Elixirgurl is back with chapter two of the adventure fic, "Curtain Call"!
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As they walked down the streets, she saw sights she loved: a wooden cart being loaded with potion bottles, a street corner with an empty newspaper stand, the last of the streetlamps going out and young mothers throwing open windows of their tiny houses…it felt so good to witness such regular scenes. Hermione couldn't believe how long she'd been cramped inside the Order headquarters, working on cases, completely cutting off all contact with the outside world…
They got into a small coffee shop and ordered two cups of coffee.
"I'm sure you're thinking the next time you get caught, it should be in the Sahara, so I could burn my back before I come to get you," Draco smirked.
"I wasn't thinking that," she said defensively, a grin creeping up her face.
"Yeah. Yeah. Keep on denying."
The next stop:
The Order's doorstep.
Chapter - 2: The Order
The early morning heat pressed against Hermione's cheeks, warming them slightly as she stood at the doorstep of the ancient house of Black, holding in all peace and relief from a journey well ended. God, she couldn't still believe that she'd made it till here safely, without having endured much pain. It surprised her that she was still feeling up to the day even though her body was fatigued.
Draco shook off the last few remainents of dust from his cloak, performing a quick cleaning spell to banish the forest earth and dirt that had caught on to his clothes. He checked his reflection in the doorplate and drew back almost immediately: god, his face needed a wash. A spot of grime stained the side of his jaw. Annoyed, he wiped it off with his hands and checked his reflection again…
The house was quiet, bearing an unbearable muffled silence within it when they entered. The black stonewalls hosted rows of oil lamps that were still glowing and spreading pale yellow luminance to the surrounding areas.
Hermione closed the door behind her, causing the curtains over one of the nearby portraits to gently sway with the waft of current.
The smell of moulding tapestry and dust filled her nose trills, almost making her choke.
As she entered into the hall adjoining the entrance lobby, she was met with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting in though kitchen doors…the smell made her stomach hurt with the hunger she'd been feeling all through the journey.
The sound of a door clicking open was heard, soon followed by a squeal. And a tall, red haired girl came running down the stairs, her face brightened with a broad smile.
"Mum, she's here!! MUM, she's back!!" cried the witch, stepping off the last stair and rushing towards her.
"Hermione!! I'm so glad to see you!" she said, throwing herself at Hermione and giving her a tight hug.
"I'm glad to see you too, Gin," Hermione said, patting her shoulders.
The red head drew back, pulling back stray strands of flaming red hair from her face. Genuine affection showed her eyes and Hermione gave her a reassuring smile as she saw the worry surface in them. "Oh, Hermione, are you okay…?" she was saying. "We're so sorry we couldn't trace you-"
"Hermione!? Hermione!!!"
The sound of her best friends filled her with joy. She looked towards the top of the stairs, towards were she saw the two boys grinning back at her…
"Harry! Ron!" she called out to them.
"God, we missed you!" said Harry once they'd come down.
"Heya Harry," she grinned and walked over to him. They embraced and she could feel his concern for her in the way he was holding her, after so long.
She drew back and looked into the boy's green eye. She could see the relief surface in them when she assured him that she was okay.
She then turned to the other boy and hugged him too. "Ron…"
"Yeah, it's great to have you back, Mione," he struggled to say, his face going red as he hugged her back awkwardly.
The feeling of having her friends with her gave her so much comfort. Just seeing them made her forget all that had been weighed down on her in the past few days…
"Guys, I-"
Squeals and whoops of excitement came from the stairs, as the Weasleys appeared one by one, Mrs. Weasley the first to come down and express her concern. "Hermione, my dear, come here!!!" she squeezed the life out of her and began to fuss about her appearance. "Have you been eating anything?"
"No, but-"
"You look famished! They used a curse on you, did they?"
"They-"
"How are those wounds coming up, dear? They look ghastly!! We must patch those up, come with me-"
"We can do that after the girl eats," said Arthur Weasley from his wife's side.
Hermione grinned up at the balding Weasley father as he patted her on the shoulders and made way for his twins.
Tonks and Shacklebolt were one of the few aurors who'd come down to the hall to meet Hermione. Tonks was still in her bedclothes, nevertheless, she conveyed her sentiments with a handshake, "we really thought we had lost you this time. And it was the most absurd plan for Dumbledore to send Draco out to get you. I really didn't know what to think!"
All the while, she'd forgotten about Draco and it seemed that with all the fuss of her returning so safely, no one had noticed him either. At his mention in Tonk's utterance, Hermione shot a glance over her shoulder, where she could see him watch her and the red head clan bob up and down, celebrating her return.
There was a look in his eyes that she couldn't as yet decipher.
"Well, well, I see our heroes have returned home safely," came an aged voice from the top stair.
The members in the hall looked up to find Dumbledore smiling through his long, grey beard. "In fairly stable health. No harm done, I presume?"
Hermione's grin broadened as he looked at her with a beady sparkle in his eyes.
Dumbledore turned towards Draco, acknowledging his presence. "Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy…"
Draco wanted to shut his ears to the horrible silence that echoed through the room at the voicing of his name. Every face had turned to him. Harry's green eyes were narrowed and Ron stared at him with a mildly disgruntled expression, his hands folded over the front of his maroon sweater. They were still against him and his principles, Draco deduced from the hushed whispering that passed between the Weasley siblings. He watched the girl hanging onto to the eldest brother's shoulder, saying something in low tones.
God, he detested the way they kept doubting him! Every one of them, giving him shifty looks and thwarted remarks, ceaselessly, coming up with whatever conclusions they should make out of him and his family…
Why couldn't they give up? It's not like anything they said every made sense or came close to the real thing.
It was on Dumbledore's request that he had come here in the first place. Dumbledore knew that after Hogwarts had closed and the Malfoy manor was destroyed in the war, Draco had no place to go. His resources had been cut terribly low after Lucius had proved himself a deatheater, thus shattering his image in front of the ministry. And with the war having broken out and Voldemort coming back into power, he had to chose a side and accept his headmaster's offer to stay in the house of Black….
Draco thought of it to be the most unfair deal in life – to have no place to go and to wind up in a burnt house full of weasleys.
And they never ceased giving him a hard time…
He shifted his position on the wall, giving the members of the room his usual contemptuous smirk. At least, thank me for saving your bumbling buck-toothed auror girlfriend, you pricks!
"Now," said Dumbledore, bringing back all the attention to him, "how's tea coming about, Molly?"
"Ah, yes! The tea!" Molly looked like she'd suddenly remembered something. "I've put Kreacher in charge. Dear my, I hope he knows what he's doing with those pots and pans…" and she went into the kitchens, muttering under her breath..
Dumbledore then gestured to Draco and Hermione to come towards him.
The crowd gathered at the bottom of the stairs soon dispersed, Ginny following her mother to help out at the kitchens, Tonks and Kingsley returning to their rooms. Harry and Ron shifted around for some time, then finally went into the living room for a talk.
Draco walked lankily over to the headmaster, treating him like he was the last care in world. But Dumbledore, only knowing his character too well, proposed to ignore his aloofness and smile warmly.
"Well done, Mr. Malfoy," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did as you were told: you got Miss Granger back from the Circle headquarters and ensured her protection till your arrival here. I hope you didn't encounter any troubles along the way. The journey was peaceful, wasn't it?"
Draco was contemplating the answer while Hermione jumped in, saying, "nothing we couldn't handle." She grinned.
Draco gave her a look from the side, cocking an eyebrow.
"Nothing you couldn't handle you say? Very well then," said Dumbledore, shaking his head with comprehension. "I had calculated the strength of forest in advance and had dispatched Mr. Malfoy only with full faith that he'd be able to resist its powers and manage his own. So, I guess that went well…"
"Everything went well except our meet with Draco's father in the woods," Hermione told the man with a hint of edginess in her voice. "Actually, he said the aurors had been dead and … didn't seem to trust Draco very much when he said he was going to – well – use me for his purposes…"
She cast Draco a side-glance and caught him glaring. "…which might I add, is how I got the picture in mind."
Dumbledore sighed, "It may be so, but that is not for us to see. Now, you kids must be tired. A whole night trudging through a forest! How're you feeling, Miss Granger?"
"Surprisingly well," she answered without much thought. She did really feel better after seeing her friends and her headmaster again. "…though a bit tired…" she added later
"Then, you should go catch up on some sleep." He nodded in the direction of the side lobby.
"And by the way, take care not to step into the right-hand side stairway. The Cackle ghoul has been waiting near Lord Baron's portrait with a pail of ice cold water for quite some time now…"
Hermione grinned again. She looked at Draco before making the turn into the lobby – he appeared miserable. A scowl marked his features quite dominantly and his eyes were flittering with dislike and contempt for the headmaster. It looked like he was waiting for a chance to get away from the man.
"And how're you doing, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore turning to him.
"Fine," he answered snappishly.
"You're sure?"
Draco narrowed his eyes, not at the headmaster, but at a spot of dust patching up the floor under the window-side portrait. Of course, he wasn't okay. He'd just had a shrug with death by meeting his father half way across the forest! not to mention, he had seen the grim… and to be recollecting those events was like drowning himself in cold distant memories, that kept on reminding him of how thinly painted his life really was.
"I'm sure," he said with clenched jaws.
Dumbledore scanned him through with glistening, blue eyes, wearing down the layers of pride and self-contentment: it amazed him that every time he saw him through, there was the scared boy fighting inside, alone and frustrated from the ways of the world…
Even now.
"You'd like to see you after dinner tonight, Draco," he said soberly. "If that's okay with you…"
Good, now we can chat ourselves to sleep, thought Draco, trying hard not to roll his eyes. He nodded and stepped aside as the headmaster took leave and descended down the stairs.
(xxx)
While the rest of the house buzzed with activities and sounds pertaining to the start of the day, our heroes reached up to their rooms, tiredness weighing on their shoulders and resting on their eyelids. Hermione got into her room and closed the door, looking in the direction of her bed. It seemed like such a long time since she'd seen anything close to a comfortable armchair, and the sight of her bed with its warm covers and plump pillows made her eyes tingle. The minute she fell on it, sleep overcame her, whisking her away into the world of dreamless slumber.
Draco's muscles ached from exertion. He hadn't realized how exhausted he had become until he'd reached his room and laid down on his bed. He tried to catch some sleep but sleep evaded him every time he closed his eyes.
Underneath him, the stringy cot creaked. The ghoul downstairs could be heard cackling at some unfortunate wizard who had stepped into the right hand side stairway. The youngest Weasley girl was shouting at her brothers for doing something irreparable to her maroon jumper.
His pillow had been tattered, old and rather hard with the ancient cotton still stored inside. It lent him a relentless pain at the jointure of his shoulder and neck. Oh, this house was simply killing him…
Groaning in frustration, he got up from the bed and went out the room, closing the door with a 'click'.
(xxx)
Opposite his door was a broad window, outlooking the rows and rows of muggle streets and houses. Folding his hands on the sill, Draco stared out at the red and brown rooftops, the hot sunlight falling directly on his face.
He watched the net curtains of the surrounding houses flutter in the wind, revealing their perfectly packed interiors, full of wood and furniture. The kitchen window of a double storied apartment showed a young mother doing her dishes while a toddler with his thumb in his mouth, pulled at her apron. Through another window, he could see flashes of light and colour erupt from a small black box, sounds of guns and firing accompanying the emission. It reminded him of the war going on at home.
A young girl of about 16 appeared at the window of the house in front of him. she looked out, her streaked blonde hair bouncing in a ponytail, and waved to a lanky, freckled faced boy who'd come out to throw the trash from a house across the road.
Draco scowled. He hated puppy love. Puppy love was so stupid.
The boy grinned up at her, putting down the trash bag, mouthing that he'd come over in the evening. That was enough and more of a reason for the 16 yr old girl to squeal and run back into her room, probably to make arrangements…in time, Draco could hear loud, beaty music play from her room…something about someone's girlfriend not being as hot as someone…
Like he cared about some lame, overly confident lady calling herself a freak a dozen times!
Honestly, didn't these people know how much energy they were wasting brewing up unproductive conversations and activities?
He retreated from the window with a deep scowl on his face.
Since the whole house was up and bustling, he decided that maybe he could have some fun with the members inhabiting it. Not in the conventional way of course! But he needed something to lift up his spirits and he spotted the opportunity coming his way in the form of a furry, ginger, grumpy looking cat.
After having jinxed the cat to do his bidding, Draco went downstairs where the household had gathered for breakfast. Noises of happy conversation filled the air of the large spacious dining area. The table hosted plates of bread and cream and at least a dozen jars of orange juice. Amidst all the chattering and cluttering, no one saw Draco sneak up behind the railing of the second floor and cast the charm…
Chrookshangs sprang forward as if his tail had caught fire and leaped onto the breakfast table…Ginny screamed.
A pandemonium followed as the cat sprang into all the dishes and bread piles, spraying the onlookers with its contents. Arthur got an egg in his eye and Tonks received a face full of noodles from one of the bowls the cat upturned. Jars and plates went crashing down to the floor. Orange juice and milk spilled over the table and onto the laps of one of the aurors.
The twins, enjoying the chaos, took hold of their bacon and threw it at Ron, who went red as it streaked his face and fell to the floor. Ron then shouted a string of swear words at the twins and got ready to attack back, receiving all forms of encouragement from Harry at his side.
"Ron, NO!" shouted the mother of all mothers, Mrs. Weasley, rushing towards her son and trying to get hold of his hands. "You put that down right this instant! Ron, I'm serious-"
Ginny was still screaming, Arthur wiped the egg off his eye and hastily pulled a cap over his bald head, shielding it from any further egg attacks. The cat's bulky body pushed down the water goblets and soon sent the water mixing with the juice, streaming off to the ends of the table.
At a corner of the room, Kreacher jumped at his spot, clapping his hands with glee…
Finally, it was Alaster Moody who stunned the cat.
Draco smirked….as he watched the family downstairs return to their original state of affairs (Mrs. Weasley red in face from hearing her sons swearwords), he couldn't help but contemplate: maybe he was some use to wizard kind after all…
(xxx)
Night had fallen when Hermione woke up from her slumber. Outside, the sky was black except for tiny dots of stars, twinkling high above the rooftops. The night air had been slightly cool and breezy, refreshing and calming at the same time.
After a long invigorating bath, Hermione dabbed on some oil to her dried skin. As she sat on her bed, massaging it into her skin, her mind began to absorb less of reality and more of feeling, especially the feeling the cool night was giving her. She looked towards the hearth in her room, where a cozy fire stood ablaze, nested in a lap of twigs and logs. Her cheeks warmed up with its heat.
She took in the heavenly scent of the oil: sandalwood and sea butter. The combination made her senses swirl…aromatherapy, she realized.
After spending a decent fifteen minutes revitalizing her skin (something she wouldn't normally do, but since the cold mountaintop and forest had really damaged her skin, she tended to do), she pulled on a dark maroon robe and stepped out of her room.
The house was enveloped in silence. The cozy sort of silence that suited her soul.
Oil lamps glowed brightly in their niches. Threadbare curtains fluttered in the wind.
She went down the stairs, wondering where all the people were and stopped at the second floor railing, looking down at the dark dining room. The table was clean and sparkling. The chairs had been pushed inside. She supposed they'd finished having supper.
She descended down the last flight of stairs and passed through the dinning area to the living room. They appeared to be in there. Orange light came from the doorway. Soft voices wafted over to her ears along with cackles of fire. She peeped inside.
The Weasley children were enjoying their time together in the room. Fred and George were away at a corner discussing the details of a new joke product, Harry and Ron were in the fireside chairs, a game of chess keeping them engaged. Ginny was running a hand through her bright red hair, curled up on the couch.
She looked up when Hermione entered.
"Heya Hermione. Slept well?"
She moved over so that Hermione could sit down.
"Yeah. Like a log. Wouldn't know how much I snored!"
Hermione grinned at the boys. "So, you guys missed me?"
"We really did, Mione," Ron said, his eyes fixed on the chessboard. He reached across the board and snatched away Harry's bishop. "And it wasn't just us - think of how lonely Crookshangs got when you weren't around. I mean, we cuddled - " He added with a shrug.
"Oh, that's nice to hear. You two are finally getting along."
"Yeah, but maybe it isn't so nice to feel his furry dishwasher tail against my nose every time I try to pet him."
"Get used to it, Ron," said Hermione with a slight laugh.
"Oh, and, by the way, Hermione," Harry turned to her with a bit of nervousness on his face. "Er – Mad-Eye had to, sort of stun your cat-"
He bit his lips and watched the girl's face darken. "Stun my cat?" she repeated.
"he-he said he was sorry and all. I'm sure he really didn't mean to do it, but the cat just got in the way of things, know what I mean?"
Ginny pushed back her hair, untangled her legs from underneath her and jumped off the couch. "See you later, Mione," she mumbled to her and slipped out of the room with a smile. She wasn't surprised when Hermione's anger broke out on the boys, sending loud cries and wails echoing down the many corridors and hallways that knitted through the first floor.
(xxx)
However, her smile broke off when she encountered Malfoy on the way. He seemed keen on avoiding her at first, then later, for some reason, was intent on blocking her way.
"Move," she said to him with an icy glare.
"And if I don't?" he snapped back.
Ginny thought of all the names she could probably call him, all the hexes she could use on him right now. She gripped her wand in between her fingers.
"If you don't, I'll probably have to hex you out the window."
"Oh, really? Are you going to do that? Lets see that, then! Little red head weaselette, throwing the big bad Draco Malfoy out the window…"
Ginny's face visibly contracted with an ugly expression of disgust and loathing. Her fingers tightened around the slender frame of her wand and she was forced to it pull out only because she felt the dire need to teach him a lesson.
"Honestly Malfoy, you really underestimate the members of my family," she said, pointing it towards his face.
The slightest ghost of a smile came upon Draco's lips as he realized that this thin, puny carrot-head girl was actually threatening him. Nevertheless, he didn't fear her or fight her. What was the point? He would always win.
"But you want to know what I think about yours? I think you've got the worst family anyone could possibly have!" she spat out. "And you want to know another thing? - You're just as pathetic as any of them! And right now, I can throw you out the window if I want and teach you lesson or two, but I'm refraining, because I don't want to waste my time!"
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. He could see the way she was holding back from explaining her noble intentions further and to let it pass, he said, "filth."
"What?" asked Ginny sharply.
"What you say is just filth. Anyways, I'm not going to further delay you from whatever activity it is that your kind do. So, please, be my guest - and leave."
He smirked and stepped aside, waiting for her to go.
Ginny gritted her teeth. Though she felt that he deserved a good whacking on the face, she didn't do it. Hopefully, she could do that another time, at another place, where there would be more people and less silence…she walked off, a scowl hanging from her lips.
(xxx)
Draco watched the redhead retreat into one of the rooms to the left and sighed. God, the Weasleys must really hate him for churning out such spite and venom in their words, he thought gloomily. For some unknown reason, it was almost like he wanted them to show a different side, to show some thing other than contempt and hatred towards him.
Not that he admitted it of course.
Times had changed now and wizard kind was slowly breaking up into the good and bad. He was hoping that he'd get something other than their scorn before he left this world…
Sometimes, he just found himself wondering along the lines of what would have become of him if he ever showed them anything other than his own pride and contempt. Would it make him feel more accepted? Would it make him feel more secure?
Could it possibly wipe out their differences?
He doubted it.
Deep inside, he knew that even if he let go of all his pride and contempt towards their day-to-day activities, it wouldn't make them one. They'd still be the full-of-love Weasleys and he'd always be the loathsome Malfoy.
-and to an extent he wanted to keep it that way. Their lack of knowledge about him actually gave him more of a breathing space.
But still, it's like he wanted someone to know, and understand what he was going through.
Quietly, Draco walked down the hallways, listening to the wind wiping through the boards of the house.
He didn't have any destination in mind. It was just the cool night air and the breeze that made him to walk. Occasionally, he'd stop and stare out a window, with his hands delved deep into his pockets, and he'd watch the empty muggle crossing or the lonely elm tree in the backyard of one of the houses or sometimes just the shadows of bodies moving behind the yellow curtains.
As he turned back to the house, to the darkness of the hallways that lay ahead of him, he couldn't help but long to go outside and feel the cool wind through his body.
But that would be suicide. Especially in his case.
Draco knew well that if he had to step outside the confines of this house and go down the street (or go anywhere else for that matter), he'd be attracting death. Especially after his escape with Hermione, the death eater world out there would be looking for him. To catch him – and to kill him.
He found himself outside a room flooded with orange firelight and looking into the glow, he got himself a peculiar picture of a bushy brown haired girl yelling herself hoarse at her friends (something about a stunned feline) and a pair of twins grinning away at a cozy corner. They hadn't noticed his form at the door. Taking advantage of their ignorance, he leaned on his side and watched the girl fight for whatever cause with all her strength.
"And none of you prevented it from happening! I mean – can you just imagine the consequences! - he could have died!"
"Ron was a little too engaged in wiping steak off his face-"
"Shut up, Harry! The thing is a cat for heavens sake! He could have borne it pretty well!"
"He's my cat, Ron. And no, he couldn't have borne it well! Animals react differently to charms and hexes. Honestly, what was Mad-Eye thinking when he did it?"
"He probably didn't want to get the stuffing eaten out of his turkey."
"Ugh, Ron! You are so disgusting!!"
She turned away from the boy with a huff and folding her hands, faced the doorway. "Oh," she said, spotting Malfoy. "You were here."
Her brown eyes darted away from his. Great! Now she was feeling stupid having been caught at such a moment.
Harry and Ron looked at him from their chess set, exchanging disconcerted looks.
"Yes, I was here and got to see the funny exchange between you and your friends," he drawled. "So, poor miss puss-lover got her cat stunned. Boy, that is sad…" he tsk-tsked and smirked at her. "-it's not dead, is it?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "No. its not," she said in an unchanging tone.
"Too bad then. I was hoping to get a good start tomorrow in the morning by witnessing some cat burying rituals. Anyways, in case something like that happens, do inform me. I'll bring the incense sticks."
He couldn't help but give himself a pat of the back for saying those words so well to earn that typical outrageously offended expression from Hermione. She was literally fuming…
Merlin, she was on fire, was she?
Draco blinked away the apparent blurriness caused by the firelight haze in the room – for a minute there, she almost looked pretty with the warmth on her cheeks and the contrasting drape around her.
The boys in the room were giving him deep, loathsome looks and Draco thought it better to leave the room before trouble cropped up in the form of fists and punches.
Just as he turned and began to walk, he heard the girl say from behind, "I can't believe I even thought of thanking you, for saving my life."
Draco stopped in his tracks. He titled his head to his side and smirked.
She came up to him, a grim expression marking her features. Her brown eyes were dark. He noticed that the bun she'd done up with her hair had come loose, with strands of brown hair lying across the shoulder of her robe.
"Or did you forget? You just made an escape from the Dark Lord's clutches yesterday."
Her words were chilling.
"Thanks for reminding me. I was trying to forget about it," he said dryly, the smirk fading. "Got anything else to say?" He stared intently into her brown eyes. In their darkened depths, they seemed to be drowning him.
He looked away from her at once. All the effect of the firelight, he told himself, just the effect of firelight…
Hermione drew in a deep breath, placing her hands on her hips. She scanned Draco's face, and found that the effect of her words spanned widely over his features in the form of vexation.
She thought that maybe she had just imagined it, but something dark passed through them. Was it hurt? Was it just plain anger? Or was it something deeper?
"I don't know what you've done to deserve a place in the Order, Malfoy," she said, without acknowledging the fact that she herself was starting to feel a bit guilty, "but whatever the reason is, you'll never quite fit in."
"I don't care," he said with a menacing edge to his voice. "I don't care if I fit in or not."
"You're lying."
"What makes you say that?"
"Oh stop pretending, Malfoy! I can see the desperation in your eyes."
Draco was about to snap back with his usual brainless comments, but stopped and thought over what she said. He found his mouth automatically closing, as if an icy finger pushed up his jaw into a tight, fierce clench. Had he been that obvious about it?
Hermione took a step closer, narrowing her eyes. "Its really maiming you on the inside, isn't it?"
For surprises, there was a bit of concern in her voice that showed in her subdued tone. It was reliving, but only for a second –
"I'm doing fine, Granger," he stated firmly.
"You look so tired."
"I'm not tired! It's just the moonlight, its making me look sick…"
"Fine. Have it your way." she shrugged her shoulders and turned to go back into the room. However, before she disappeared into the room, she cast him a sideways glance.
He had his hands deep into his pockets and was staring at her oddly.
Hermione, for the first time in her life, saw how truly lonely he was, standing all alone in the corridor, half covered in shadows that hung in the air. She struggled with her guilty feelings at having seen right through him.
"Goodnight, Malfoy," she said indifferently and went into the room.
(xxx)
Draco came to the end of the corridor, having been walking the last ten minutes. Opposite him was a large wooden door, polished and gleaming uncannily in the pale light from the gas lamps. He contemplated on whether to open it or not.
Though he'd heard about it, Draco had never been to the Ancient House of Black. His father had told him loads about its heritage and the line of pureblood ancestry that inhabited it for decades, making him quite eager to see the place for himself. But then, it didn't quite turn out exactly like the picture Lucius had put in his mind: having been host to the Order, the place had been cleared of many dark artifacts and other similar Black family treasures. Spells and incantations had been taken down. The all-around aura was that of an old, old burnt house that belonged to a farmer couple in the mid-80s.
With a fixed grim expression, Draco opened the door and stepped inside.
The room smelt of parchment. Stiff silence hung all around him. Watching his step, he made it through the dark, then, reached the point where the light from the lamps in the corridor was not sufficient to show him way.
"Lumos," he said, taking his wand in his hands. The second the word left his mouth, the whole room lit up with light. Soft, ambient light, naturally lifting from the ground. He guessed it was a charm that worked on sound and slowly, put his wand back into his pocket and looked around…
He was standing before a set of steps which descended into a large room lined with bookcases. A library.
A gigantic fireplace stood blazing with flames at the far end of the room, casting shadows of the dark mahogany furniture on the red and green carpeting. Tables with a few comfy looking chairs marked every corner and in the middle of the room stood a statue of a fierce looking wizard wearing a menacing scowl, his hands reaching out through the sleeve of his stone grey robe. It looked intimidating.
Draco descended down the steps, his hands slipping over the banister.
Paintings hung over the bookcases. Awards and certificates were displayed, framed into the walls in between.
He looked through the volumes pushed into the shelves of the nearest bookcase. Books of dark magic, omens, tarot cards. In another shelf, he found transfiguration and potion books he'd never seen at Hogwarts. He supposed their matter varied from what they taught at school too – of course, he added as an afterthought – these were the Blacks referencing their material, not first year students…
"I see you've finally found the Library of the Ancient Blacks," came a husky voice from the stairs.
Draco startled and dropped the book he was holding. "Merlin, who the-" he was about to swear.
He looked up to find Dumbledore smiling at him from the doorway. "Oh," he cried in exasperation. "Its you…"
"This library, founded by our own very first headmaster, Phineas Nigellus, has been in the family for decades," he continued, coming down the steps. "As you can see, it holds books dating back to his time, vast volumes of history and olden magic used for referencing by your forefathers whenever they were in need of it. Today, this library gives us detailed research material and undiluted knowledge about many things we are trying to understand…"
"It gives you insight to the ways of dark wizards, their areas of interest, their relations," said Draco, making sense of his last few words.
"Yes, and no," said Dumbledore. "You see, the ways of dark wizards can be found even within us. In our very own blood. It's meaningless to look for their ways in books and other articles."
Draco picked up the book and placed it on one of the shelves. "You mean to say that no one is pure good."
"Or pure evil. Yes." the headmaster gave him a significant smile through his long, white beard. "But then, it is our actions make the real difference. Have you ever felt so?"
"No," answer Draco uninterestedly.
Dumbledore tilted his head and smiled. "No? Well, that's curious! Why do you say so, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco walked over to a nearby armchair and fell into it.
"I say so because sometimes, even if you do the right thing, it doesn't make a difference. You still remain evil. Even if you do a good thing, you know its coming from the pure evil that lives inside of you."
"Selfishness, you mean?"
Draco nodded.
"So I don't see how actions make the difference here. It's like you're still…evil….no matter what you do-right?"
Through his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore looked at the young boy in the armchair: he was so frail and weak, trying to be someone bigger than himself and perpetually failing, always falling into gullible traps set by others…
"I suppose there are cases like that," he said with a half-nod.
"And what exactly do these cases do?" asked Draco with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, which didn't wear off on the headmaster, who pretended to think hard over the question.
Finally, he gave his reply: "I don't know."
Draco's body inched a little forward, startled by the man's answers. His surprise was never more obvious on his face than now. "You don't know?" he asked pointedly. "But you seem to know- well…"
"Everything?" supplied Dumbledore with a smile. He sat down in the opposite armchair and rubbed his hands together as if warming up from the night chill. "Well, I'm afraid I have never been in that situation myself, but I've seen a few cases of which you talk about. For example, take Voldemort (Draco flinched at the direct address). He never saw the light in himself during his childhood, which is why he's become one of the deadliest sorcerers of wizard time. People don't always see themselves in full strength, and that is why they get a crooked version of life and situations."
There was a long dreary silence that followed, broken only by the snapping of twigs in the fireplace. Draco focused hard on the spot next to Dumbledore's chair, trying desperately to absorb the facts he'd presented. Surely, that couldn't have been the case of the Dark Lord, could it…? He sighed, maybe he and the Dark Lord weren't so different after all. And that was something which frightened him beyond his wits.
"Would you like a chocolate frog, Mr. Malfoy?" asked the old man, bringing Draco out of his thoughts. "I've got a couple of them right here…"
Draco rejected the offer without much politeness and jumped into the topic of why he was here. "You told that you wanted to see me."
"Well, yes. I did. Actually, I was thinking about your escape and – did the guards really fall for the fake identity letter?"
"Don't think they even read through the whole thing. Granger was out pretty soon after that."
"And did she give you any trouble?"
"Oh no, you know, we were just buddies…" he shrugged with sarcasm. "Relying in each other, backing one another, delivering blows whenever necessary…"
Dumbledore smiled. "Do you know if they got any information out of her?"
"I think I got there before that. I mean, they did torture her and all, but whether she leaked information I'm not so sure… anyways, if they had gotten anything out of her, we probably wouldn't be sitting here calmly and speaking about it."
"Yes…Miss Granger would have done all she could to protect the Order and its activities. It is highly unlikely that she'd have split out anything."
Draco wanted to ask him why he believed in Hermione so much…he really did…
"And the forest of Czars, has it been completely taken over?" asked Dumbledore bringing back his attention to he topic at hand.
He nodded. "The whole forest, till the Polar Balance. The goblins have gone anyway. Escaped. I checked their lairs. They were empty."
"That's good to know," the headmaster breathed a sigh of relief. "Goblins are proud creatures, often unwilling to take sides."
"They wouldn't possibly side with us, would they?" asked Draco, thinking of the amount of goblin gold they'd have to offer the creatures to win their loyalty.
"I doubt it. But until that day, we'll just have to stand by and wait…"
There was a kind of hopeful finale in Dumbledore's voice that caught Draco's attention. He looked up to find the headmaster up on his feet.
"My map of the forest proved useful I suppose. You two didn't get lost in there, did you?" he asked.
"We were fine…" Draco answered immediately. He disliked how the man kept on asking about how their journey was. It was like he kept needing reassurances of his capability of handling such a stealthy situation.
"Very well then. I better get going. Molly's been expecting me for dinner. Is there any thing else you consider important to tell me?" his blue eyes shone through his glasses as if he was looking right through Draco.
Draco thought of all the things that was bugging him at the moment: his death eater baggage, the grim, his bleak future, the terrible loneliness he felt inside, the attitude of the Weasleys, the words of a certain brown eyed, brown haired girl…
"Don't think so," he answered dryly.
"Alright then. I'll see you soon, Mr. Malfoy…" with a nod and a twisted smile, Dumbledore turned from him and climbing the stairs, exited through the library doors.
The minute his bright blue cloak disappeared from sight, Draco leaned back into the chair with a sigh. That man had managed to ring out his self-image. What was he going to do next? Draco couldn't tell – tricky man that was Dumbledore…
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A/N: …and that was chapter two! Liked it? review please!
Oh yeah: if anyone wishes to put my story on their fav list or alert list, please remember to review, coz its really unfair to do otherwise. And I'd like to thank my two first reviewers! Luv you guyz! You really made my day!
Next chapter sneak preview: some library rearrangement, some boyfriend issues and a pair of lovely dark-brown eyes…
Btw,
anyone figured out the song the 16 yr old was dancing to? it was Don't Cha!
Review, remember!
Luv yah!
-elixirgurl