Chapter 2: Wishing Weasels were Closer
On the other side of the communication, Draco stood suddenly, his face flushing redder than it ever had before both because of fury and embarrassment form being caught. Before him stood Albus Dumbledore, holding Draco's dragon ring in his hand. How the old man had been swift enough to get the ring before Draco had seen him was beyond Draco.
"Draco," Professor Dumbledore began in his always overly calm voice, "I must insist once again on the direness of the situation. Communication with those outside this house puts you and Miss. Weasley in danger." Draco hated how his eyes danced as if he knew something Draco was trying to hide. It was infuriating.
"You can't just go interrupting people's conversations," Draco drawled, feeling his face pull into a snarl. "Do try to speak respectfully to your superiors," said the smooth voice of Severus Snape. Draco felt his face relax a bit seeing his greasy haired professor and head of house. Finally someone who he could talk to.
"I assure you I do not intend to make a habit of it," Professor Dumbledore continued as if they had not been interrupted at all. "However, rest assured that I disconnected you both properly, as noted by the fact that you have full possession of your soul and are not trapped within the pin or ring."
Draco blinked surprised. "You did not believe that such interactions were forbidden so that we could torture you," Professor Snape asked raising an eyebrow.
Draco tried not to give his Professor a dirty look. He had thought that was what they were doing-torturing him with good intentions. "What would have happened," asked Draco skeptically.
"To disconnect incorrectly would mean that Miss. Weasley or yourself, perhaps both, would be partially stuck within the artifact," Professor Snape explained.
"I think it best I hold onto this where you cannot to tempted by the charms of Miss. Weasley," Dumbledore said putting the ring in his pocket and patting it. Then he nodded to Professor Snape and moved form the house.
Once he had left, Draco fell onto the nearby bed, sinking into its quilt. "You know, I made that."
Draco looked up to see a tall woman with long raven hair and dancing eyes. Professor Snape looked torn, as if part of him was very pleased to see the woman, the other disgusted by what she said.
"Why would you have made him such a thing," Professor Snape asked annoyed.
"Oh Sevvy," the woman replied with a smile, "you know why." She looked over at Draco. "Sorry, I don't believe we've met. I'm Lela Snape."
Draco wasn't sure if his face showed how surprised he was. The woman and Professor Snape look nothing alike. She had no grease in her hair, no pasty skin, no dark tunnel eyes. As if hearing his thoughts, Lela bent forward and whispered, "I was also in Gryffindor. Sevvy nearly disowned me!"
Draco wasn't sure how to take so much information, but he decided to play it cool as he decided how to get his ring back. "So this is your house," he drawled.
A strange expression came over Lela's face. Professor Snape did not seem to notice and as he answered, "Yes, it is her's. Quaint is it not?" Draco couldn't help but hear the note of disgust in Professor Snape's voice.
"So then, where is this quaint house," Draco asked, he had decided to ignore the look of annoyance on Lela's pretty face as she looked at her brother. Whatever they were blabbering on about was no interest to him. What was interesting was why this small three-room house was in the middle of an almost barren field. Well, Draco considered looking out the window once more. Barren wasn't the right word, after all, the field was full of tall grass and yellow flowers but in all honesty if one was only allowed to look at the field from inside, it may as well been a muggle dump.
"I'm afraid that such information is classified, Draco," Professor Snape said with a slight smile. Draco usually appreciated such a rare treat but at the moment he had a feeling Professor Snape was smiling at his depressing thoughts.
"So your on watch tonight then," asked Draco following Professor Snape and Lela out of the room to the kitchen. "He's on guard until I take over," Lela explained casually, lifting the teapot on the oven and shaking it to see if it needed more water.
"Where are you going? Usually they stay all night," Draco asked suspiciously. Professor Snape gave Draco an incredulous look. Instinctively, Draco's eyes flew to Professor Snape's left arm, then back up to his face. When his eyes looked up again, he saw Professor Snape giving him an affirming look. Lela turned around from where she had been filling the teacup with water.
"You could have just filled it with water magically," Professor Snape said, pretending as if he and Draco had not just had a silent conversation. Lela shrugged, turning back to the stove. But as she did, she seemed to pause, looking at Draco's covered left arm. It was so quick that Draco thought he had imagined it. He was not sure why but he got the feeling Lela knew more than she was letting on. Professor Snape seemed not to notice, sitting down by the table with his usual grace.
As the night progressed, Draco became more sure that Lela knew more than Professor Snape gave her credit. He wasn't positive what she was so knowledgeable about, but something in the way she looked over her teacup as the two of them talked tensely. It was like she could see through their odd codes and subtle head movements as if they spoke plainly before her. She could hear Professor Snape say, "tonight we find out the plan to destroy the muggle and wizarding world before the dark lord, bet you wish you were there," despite the fact that all he really said was, "I suppose you will be in a much comfier place than I tonight."
When the time came, Professor Snape did not cringe as Draco did whenever his dark mark burned. It was not burning now. It hadn't burned for ages, not since the night on the train when Charlie Weasley handed Draco the strongest tasting Fire Whiskey that had ever burned his tongue. Professor Snape simply stood, nodded to Draco and kissed Lela on the forehead before leaving. As the door shut behind him, there was silence.
"Well," Draco said, twisting in his seat uncomfortable at the silence. Lela was just looking at him. The way her eyes danced made him think of Ginny. He touched his chest, it hurt-from the tea heat.
"You know, I find my brother to think of me quite dumb," Lela said taking a sip and looking at Draco, "as if I don't know about what's going on in the wizarding world, just because I've been in America for a year."
"In America," asked Draco raising his eyebrows. Lela nodded.
"Yes, but you see I did not grow up in the first time of Voldemort to be completely stupid," Lela continued as if uninterrupted, "after all, just because I always talk about toast and other random things doesn't mean I don't see what's going on. In fact, the only thing I can't figure out is why this house has fallen into my possession."
"Well, you must know that," said Draco confused. He could tell she was a Gryffindor, she made no sense. "After all, it's your hosue."
"I know I've been here once but I don't recall when, it was so long ago," Lela said squinting her eyes. Then they widened as if she had gotten an idea. "Have you properly snooped around this house," she asked. Draco shrugged.
"Not much to see, there are only three rooms and a kitchen," Draco drawled leaning back, "there isn't much to see." Lela smirked, raising an eyebrow.
"Never assume there is nothing to see, Draco dear," she said tapping her nose. "Especially in houses that seem to have nothing to see."
Draco frowned thinking about what she had said. "Lela," he asked finally. She looked up curiously. "Where are we? Whose house was this?"
Lela seemed to stroke her chin thoughtfully, but Draco knew he wasn't going to like the answer by the glimmer in her eyes. That glimmer was the one Ginny would give when she was just inches away from him, so close to kissing and then, seconds later, she would pull away. Looking at him as if she had done nothing wrong, but that glimmer would give it away. She knew. Draco touched his chest again.
"It might occupy your time," Lela suggested. "Give you something to relieve that magic stress." Draco raised his eyebrow.
"Magic stress," Draco asked, "and what would relieve it?"
Lela rolled her eyes. "Searching the house, finding a mystery. And magic stress is what happens when wizards get use to using magic and then suddenly go cold turkey. I know they've said you can do almost no magic because of the whole being dead thing," Lela explained. She stood and Draco looked at her.
"Well, Draco, I know I'm suppose to be nannying you but it is my experience with boys that they don't listen to nannies anyways," Lela said. She held up her hand to the protest that Draco was about to give. "That said," she continued, "I'm going to my room, or what I assume is my room because this is my house, and you can do what you please. Just don't leave the house and tell me when Sevvy is home!"
Lela turned and nearly skipped out of the kitchen. Moments later, as he still sat trying to decode the odd Gryffindor language, he heard a door knob jiggling, then Lela saying, "Interesting that one is locked." Then there was a close of the door. Draco put his head on the table. He could almost hear Ginny's voice, "just go! It could be interesting. Let's investigate!"
"Typical Gryffindor," Draco muttered, but he stood anyways and moved out of the kitchen. He looked down the short hall and saw a large door. It seemed normal enough to Draco. Draco put his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot. "Do it," Ginny said in his mind. Draco rolled his eyes. Hearing voices was never a good sign. Still, he moved forward, stealthily. He touched the knob.
Nothing happened. No burns, no sounds. He tried to turn the knob. It was locked. But that was all. Draco frowned. "Not much of a threat," he thought with a smirk. Still, why would a door be locked in this house? Doors were always locked in the Malfoy manor, but that was because most contained dark artifacts. Draco was sure that one held their timeline in portrait form. And what would happen when one touched the portraits? Well, that's why the door was locked. But this house, what could it possibly be hiding?
Draco tapped his nose thoughtfully. He put his ear to the door. Nothing. He reached his hand to his pocket, feeling for his wand. He frowned, not finding it. "That's right, Professor Dumbledore took that a couple days ago," Draco muttered to himself.
Professor Dumbledore had explained that doing magic, especially as often as Draco was use to was an easy way to reveal that Draco was alive to the Dark Lord. For Draco's own protection, Dumbledore would have to take his wand. Draco glared at the door. He was noticing a trend. He moved away from the door, slumping down in the kitchen chair once again, looking around the room bored.
Same old furniture, same old pictures, same old everything. Draco sighed. His eyes paused on something on the floor. It was a wand, right next to the bottom of the door. This door was odd because unlike most magical homes, this home had what Charlie Weasley had called a "doggy door." Odder still was the fact that the doggy door was swinging slightly, as if something had peaked in and run off. Draco looked at the wand carefully. Potter would trust such a find, but Draco was aware of the suspicious nature of coincidences.
Still, the wand seemed to look at him temptingly. With just a quick switch of his wrist he could unlock the door and discover what was behind it. "And then I would probably grow a second head," Draco drawled to himself. He noted that he had begun to talk to himself a lot more since he arrived at this house. Perhaps he would just nudge it a bit with a pot or pan or something… Draco stood and took the teakettle from off the stove. Moving toward the wand he nudged it a bit. The wand rolled away, pausing a few inches. Nothing happened to the pan.
Just as Draco was trying to decide if taking the wand was worth the risk, the door opened and Professor Snape walked in, looking more tired than he usually did after a Deatheater meeting.
He paused in his progression towards the table, picking up the wand. He turned it in his hands. "Lela," he called rolling his eyes. Lela appeared behind Draco, giving him a kind smile. "You forgot your wand," Professor Snape said with a smirk. Lela took the wand and inspected it carefully. Draco waited patiently, trying to look disinterested as he inspected their interactions.
"Thanks Sevvy," Lela said finally, putting the wand in her pocket and turning to sit down. She motioned for Professor Snape to do the same, and he obeyed, slumping down.
"Well, how was it," drawled Draco. Professor Snape looked at him for a moment, partly giving him an incredulous look, partially seeming to decide something. Lela seemed to understand because she stood and moved to a nearby cupboard. Draco wondered momentarily if it was true that twins had a silent understanding of one another.
Lela placed a large basin in the middle of the table. The water seemed silvery and odd. It was a pensive. "Professor Dumbledore asks me to put my interactions with the dark lord and other deatheaters into this pensive so he may look at them himself," Professor Snape explained, taking his wand and touching the temple of his forehead. As he pulled it away, a hair like silver ray came out of his temple. Draco had never seen someone use a pensive before, it was oddly fascinating. Not that he would admit it, he forced his face to remain motionless as Professor Snape put the silver hair into the basin. It seemed to swirl about and Lela leaned forward. Realizing she was the only one, she grabbed both Draco and Professor Snape's hands and touched them to the water.
Suddenly, Draco was not in the cozy house. He was in a dark room, dimly lit by candles. Around people began to appear with pops, dressed in their deatheater uniforms. They formed a circle around Draco, who suddenly felt an unmistakable urge to run form the room. As if sensing this, Professor Snape, touched his shoulder, motioning for Draco and Lela to come with him to stand off to the side. They moved to stand in front of a tall man. Draco felt he looked oddly familiar, but unable to see the eyes, he shrugged and turned.
Across the room, Draco could see body being tortured, as the woman cackled gleefully. Draco felt a chill down his spine. Aunt Bellatrix had that effect on him. He could tell it was Bellatrix because she, as always, was looking more deranged with happiness than was ever socially acceptable as she tortured. Draco could practically hear her licking her lips.
All of a sudden, Bellatrix stopped, turning and clasping her hands together with pleasure. Draco shrank back, running into Lela as a familiar icy voice filled the room.
"Gather round my loyal followers," said the voice near by. The voice seemed to slither and hiss through the crowd as a snake would. The deatheaters moved into a smaller circle around their Dark Lord, all-waiting patiently for his next words. Draco heard Professor Snape say, "I'm by Bellatrix, now stop asking questions and listen. He sounded annoyed at his sister.
"As you may be aware, a few months ago, my plan ran into a bit of a dilemma, and not because of Potter," the Dark Lord said, turning slowly to look at every member of his group slowly. No one spoke, but Draco could almost feel the tension increase. "A certain couple, one of whom was my follower and betrayed me, ruined my reunion with my past self. As you may not be aware," the Dark Lord continued, coming to a stop in front of Draco, Professor Snape, and Lela, "I have killed the betrayer." The Dark Lord did not seem to see them, instead he addressed the deatheater behind them, looking at him right in the eyes. Draco turned to see the deatheater.
Behind the mask came a stifled sound, as if the hidden face wanted to cry out, but was using all their will power to refrain. As the Dark Lord turn away, that the figure seemed to stoop forward, holding his chest as if in pain. It occurred to Draco that he had never seen his father unable to control his emotions completely. One could say a lot about Lucius Malfoy, and most did, but Draco knew the amount of affection his father had held for his only son. Draco felt the pain in his chest for a moment. It could have been worse, Draco reasoned, they could have tortured him.
Part of Draco still was happy his father would now believe him to be dead. It was not uncommon for deatheaters to continue to believe their family members were simply on vacation or at school, only to find out that their Dark Lord had killed them. Loyalty did not outdo others disloyalty. Draco tried to imagine how his father would tell his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. Draco ran his hand through his hair nervously, then straightened it again. Poor mum, he thought sadly.
The Dark Lord continued as if not noticing or caring about Lucius' pain. "However, I continue to be eluded by the second person. This is especially troublesome for me, however, because it is not simply miscalculations that are destroying plan after plan," the Dark Lord paused in his walk, seeming to look into the mask of one of his followers. The follower shrunk away a bit, seemingly uncomfortable. He was shorter than most, seeming to be younger.
"Numerous attempts have failed. In fact, it seems to be getting easier for her to purify our dark magic. Every poisoned envelope, every secret dark object, all are rejected. Reported to turn the dark spells into dust," the Dark Lord said pacing. "Snape," he said suddenly, turning to where the other Professor Snape was standing across the room. Draco looked up at the Professor Snape next to him. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder, and nodded back to the conversation at hand.
"You have worked with the girl, has Dumbledore put protection around her since our last meeting," asked the Dark Lord.
"Dumbledore himself was baffled by the power. However," pensive Professor Snape said. Draco could tell from the intensity that the Dark Lord attempting to penetrate his mind. Draco touched his left arm, remembering when the Dark Lord had tried to be inside his own head. "Dumbledore did remark briefly that perhaps the ability to overcome such a powerful instrument when Tom Riddle was trying to overtake her released magic she had not known she had possessed. It opened a vault of unlimited power, if you will," Severus finished calmly.
There was a moment of silence, though numerous deatheaters looked at one another confused. Draco turned to Professor Snape, "Ginny," he verified. Professor Snape nodded.
"And yet she was nearly overcome the first time, when she was eleven," the Dark Lord said, seeming to talk more to himself than anyone else. The youngest of the deatheaters, through shrinking away, cleared his throat, making the Dark Lord turn to him expectantly.
"She was but eleven, my lord. It is possible that she had not formed the power yet, or that the first possession created the vault. After all, they never purified Tom Riddle from her soul. He himself said that he had never really left." Draco felt a burning rage fill him and he took a step forward, ready to punch the familiar boy. It was undoubtedly Nagendra.
Even more enraging was that the Dark Lord did not hex him for such insolence. Instead he replied, "ah, clever. Well we will have to see. I had heard rumors of such powers existing but they are so rare, hardly found in even the purest of blood. Then again, she is a Weasley." Draco felt a bit of confusion as he took note of the interaction between the Dark Lord and Nagendra. Then it occurred to him. This look on the Dark Lord's face was as close to fondness as the Dark Lord could achieve, and he was looking at Nagendra with it. But why? Nagendra had failed his mission; in fact, he had run from the room. Draco could not help to get a nasty look on his face, remembering how Nagendra had punched him.
Draco snapped to attention again as Professor Snape's name was called. "You, Snape, will keep close watch on the progress our little friend makes. I want any reports of progress or an increase of power. If the order has such a rare power on their side, who knows what they will be capable of," the Dark Lord said. Then, he was gone. Leaving his followers to pull off their masks and huddle together to whisper.
"I heard that last time such a power existed was before Hogwarts itself was built. The wizard with the power could purify a dark artifact with a simple glance of the eye," hissed Knott wiping his forehead from the sweat that sat on it.
Lela looked at Professor Snape, as if asking why they were still in the memory. But Draco moved into the huddled circle to listen more.
"I heard," muttered Fenrir Greyback, a growl on his words as always, "that such a power can turn a werewolf into a mortal with a single touch. It could shrink a giant to the size of a moth and can remove the magical ability of any pureblood to that of a squib. All with the intention of saving another." There were fearful whispers. Draco's eyes widened. Ginny had this power?
"I heard," Goyle said slowly, "That if such a power touched someone being cursed from an unforgiveable, they would not only recover, but feel better than they had before the torturing." Bellatrix looked especially disturbed by this information.
"If this is such a rare power," Nagendra's voice asked lazily from just behind Draco, "then how is it you all seem to have so many rumors about it?" In his mind, Draco imagined punching the blonde right in the nose.
"Something doesn't need to be seen often to hear rumors," Knott snapped back, "Parseltongue is nearly as rare and we all know about that."
"Yes," Nagendra conceded, "but that's also because the most powerful wizard of our time is a parseltongue." There was no response as the deatheaters looked at one another abashed. Draco felt like his neck was starting to hurt from turning to see who was speaking. Draco knew it was pathetic, but being back in the middle of the whispering and conspiring made him even more annoyed at his present situation-stuck alone in a small house. It was not the evil aspects he missed, but the comradely of soldiers in battle. Still, Draco thought, the battle wasn't really a good one.
"What will we do if they are true?" asked Crabbe dully.
Nagendra replied, "What will we do to prevent them from being true?" "What do you mean," hissed Bellatrix. Her eyes seemed to dance with anticipation.
"I mean," Nagendra said with a smirk, "perhaps we should arrange for the lovers to have a reunion in the afterlife." There were sounds of agreement around the room until one person hissed, "and how are we suppose to do that? We have tried at least a hundred times since we destroyed the other one. I myself sent her a poisoned letter. It killed the owl after he delivered it, yet to her it was normal dust."
"Then we will try again and again. We will have to try a means that is more creative, less physical. Some sort of subtraction…" Draco wanted to hear more, to figure out what they would try, but the memory seemed to be pulling him away from the group. He looked over his shoulder to see the pensive Professor Snape moving toward the dimly lit stairwell. Draco could see Lucious Malfoy's hunched figure had his back to Severus and the group. Severus sat next to his old acquaintance.
As if knowing who it was, Lucious spoke without moving his head from his hands. "I am trying to imagine how to tell Narcissa that her worst fears are true. That Draco is…" pensive Professor Snape waited for Lucious to finish his sentence, but Lucious simply fell silent. "She won't like it," Lucious drawled, stubbornly refusing to reveal any feelings. Draco knew better. The fact that Lucious was here, in the stairwell, away from the center circle meant more than any Gryffindor would understand. Ambitions of power were being put aside, by a Slytherin, that was like a Hufflepuff deciding he didn't feel like working hard today, or a Ravenclaw refusing to read, or a Gryffindor using their mind. Draco could not help but find that his inner dialogue was extremely funny; still, he was honored by his Father's emotions towards his "death"
"I like to blame that Wealsey girl, you know," Lucious continued, "I like to think that he had a moment of weakness and that his plan failed him, but it didn't. In fact, from what I hear from my ministry ears, the Weasley girl saved him. The Dark Lord intended to kill him first, through her. Severus what am I to do with this sort of information? Do I tell Narcissa that our alliances killed our only son?" Lucious's voice cracked momentarily. He cleared his throat and stood. Draco took a step forward, trying to place his hand on his father's shoulder, but his hand went through Lucious shoulder, sending his shoulder into a strange smoke. Draco pulled back his hand and the shoulder reformed.
"Well, I would invite you to a funeral, but of course there was no body," Lucious said, straightening his robes, "and of course, funerals for traitors are forbidden." With that, Lucious disappeared with a popping sound. Draco stood for a long time looking at the place his father had sat, feeling suddenly hopeless. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Turing, he found Lela looking at him solemnly. She nodded her head and Draco suddenly felt himself being pulled away form the shrinking scene until he sat in the kitchen once again.
There was a long silence as Professor Snape stood and put the pensive away. Suddenly, Lela clapped her hands. "Fire whiskey," she asked cheerfully. Professor Snape gave her an incredulous look.
"I don't think it wise to give an underage teen going through difficult emotional times alcohol," Professor Snape snapped, sitting down next to his sister and giving her a dark look. Lela raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical expression. "When else would I give him fire whiskey," she asked as if Professor Snape's point was ridiculous, "after all, potency like this can't be wasted on the happy."
Later that night, as Draco lay in his bed feeling a bit more drunk than he had intended, he tried to imagine what Ginny was doing at this moment. How she was probably getting another letter of hexes and opening it only to find dust. Did she know the power she possessed? Or did she just think the world was being odd, yet again? Rolling over, Draco looked out the window and up at the moon and stars. He remembered the night that he had saved Ginny from Knott and the other deatheaters. He couldn't remember why he had done it. He had heard them say someone was coming and preparing to hex, but then Draco had seen long red hair. It wasn't that he had liked her or anything, but he couldn't see her be jinxed into oblivion. So when she had run, he had grabbed his broom (which was how he had gotten to the meeting in the first place) and rushed to get her. That night had been rainy. Not like tonight. Tonight the moon shone through a cloudless sky, illuminating the field around the house and the dog below.
Draco did a double take. Nothing was below the window in the field. Draco rolled away from the window, feeling strangely creeped out. He could have sworn he had seen a large black dog, almost grim like, looking up at him from his spot in the field. Draco peaked out the window once more. Nothing but tall grass was below. Draco shook his head closing his eyes, but he couldn't shake that he had seen something.