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Chapter One

Draco warily stepped into Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The place was dark and decrepit and it looked as if it had been abandoned for ages. The wallpaper was peeling and the carpet felt as though it had lived through a few centuries.

Kingsley raised a finger to his lips as the two of them passed by a large curtain.

Draco nodded as he lightly stepped past the curtain. He was used to sneaking around and staying silent. It was how he survived growing up. He looked around and saw a large chandelier covered in cobwebs and noticed a ghastly-looking troll's leg that was used as an umbrella stand. They continued down the hallway and once they reached the end, Draco looked up at the stairs and recoiled at the sight of a number of shrunken heads of House-elves. It was creepy and it did not give Draco a good feeling.

The house looked and felt as if it belonged to the darkest of wizards.

"Let's get into the kitchen, Draco," Kingsley said. His voice calmed Draco down once more. Kingsley opened the narrow door to the kitchen and used his wand to light up a large fireplace at the end of the room. He gestured to the table. "You can take a seat."

Draco looked at the long kitchen table and sat down uncomfortably. "Where's my mother?" he asked shortly.

"She will be here soon. I'm sure she remembers the place," Kingsley said, gesturing around him.

"What do you mean?"

"This is the Black family house. We've been using it as Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix until Sirius Black's death last year."

"And my mother and I are to be staying here?"

Kingsley shook his head. "No. We are merely here for you and your mother to meet up. Then we will get you and your mother to safety."

"Where's she at? Who's bringing her here?"

"Another member of the Order of the Phoenix will be arriving here with your mother. She's in very capable hands."

He hated to say it, but Draco found that he actually quite liked Kingsley. He felt more at ease with Kingsley around, but he was jumpy and nearly was scared out of his skin with every creak and sound of the old house. But there was something about Kingsley, something reassuring about his very presence.

He laid his hands on the table. His fingers, long and thin, were so pale, almost white, and he was sure that his face looked the same. He was still shaking, not as badly as before, but still very much so, that Kingsley was looking at him with concern in his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked in his booming voice.

There was something about that voice, something that made Draco want to spill everything out to Kingsley. All of the stress he had been under over the past year, his becoming a Death Eater, his inability to make his father proud. But Draco simply held his tongue and nodded in response.

"I'm fine," he said curtly.

Kingsley nodded. "I expect your mother will arrive here soon."

"Good," Draco said, shakily. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Images of the past year flashed before him.

"If you wish to speak with someone, I'm told that I'm a great listener, Draco," Kingsley said.

"Mm-hmm."

"It's a difficult thing - trust. And it's most especially difficult when you have made perhaps one of the most life-changing choices that one can possibly make...particularly in the present climate. You can trust me, Draco, if you want to."

Kingsley stared at the boy for a few more seconds, then pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet. He was sure to keep on eye on the young Malfoy boy and silently vowed to protect him. It wasn't easy becoming a Death Eater, especially at so young an age, and it definitely wasn't easy getting out of it. This kid had a lot of backbone, but he just didn't know it yet. Kingsley was concerned for him. Though he lived a life of grandeur, he obviously didn't live a great one. It seemed as if Draco had a lot more on his mind than simply turning away from Lord Voldemort.

Footsteps were heard in the hallway. Draco's head shot up. A mixture of worry and longing appeared on his face. He nearly stood up, but Kingsley placed a hand on his shoulder and Draco sat back down. Kingsley drew out his wand and pointed it toward the door to the kitchen.

A stumping noise headed their way. Draco began to worry. His fingers clenched the side of the table. His wand was stowed safely in his sleeve, but he did not want to pull it out. He was sitting, yet he was trying to hide behind Kingsley, trusting the stranger more than he trusted his own father at the moment.

Mad-Eye Moody appeared in the doorway with his wand stretched out. The blonde hair of Narcissa Malfoy was peeking out from behind him. He pointed his wand at Kingsley's nose.

"What was in the letter written to Potter's Muggle family, the night we moved Potter to Headquarters?" Moody's gruff voice asked.

Kingsley pointed his wand at Moody's chest. "That they were finalists in the All-England Best-Kept Lawn Competition."

At once, they both lowered their wands. Moody moved out of the way and Narcissa ran into the kitchen and threw her arms around her son.

"Draco!"

Kingsley and Moody excused themselves from the kitchen and stood outside the closed door to give them some privacy.

"Mother!" Draco said. He allowed his mother to hug him tight and while he did not return the hug, he didn't push her away, either. "Are you all right?"

"I should be asking you the same thing, Draco. What...what has happened? Why did the Auror force me to leave our home? Are they holding you captive? Did they find out about..." She gestured to his left arm.

Draco ignored her questions. "You...you said you would do anything for me, right?"

"Of course, Draco."

"I...I...he said they would protect us."

"Who? What's happened? Did the plan work?"

Draco half-nodded. "It worked. But he said he would protect us." He knew he was beginning to sound a bit whiny, but he didn't care. "They got in. I did it. The Vanishing Cabinet worked. And they got in."

"The Carrows, Yaxley..."

"And Greyback, Mother, Greyback was there, but I didn't know he was coming!"

Narcissa nodded and gently stroked her son's arm in comfort. "I didn't know he was, either. But it worked. The plan worked."

Draco nodded miserably. "He didn't want me to succeed, did he? He just did it as a game, to punish me for Father's mistakes."

At once, Narcissa understood. She looked at her son in amazement and wonder. "You turned to them," she said almost breathlessly.

"He offered to protect us."

"Who did?"

"Dumbledore."

"So you did not..."

Draco shook his hand. "No. I didn't kill him."

"Oh thank Merlin!" Narcissa hugged Draco tightly once again. "You are not a killer, Draco. And I never wanted that for you."

"He said they would protect us."

Narcissa nodded. "Do you believe they would?"

"But he said he would kill me. Then you."

Narcissa knew that Draco no longer spoke of the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"He never cared for us, did he? He only wants us to do his dirty work. Work that he thinks is beneath him. Work that he can't do himself. He only wishes for us to follow him so we could kill all of those that defy him. He doesn't care. He's not really powerful. The only reason why he is the way he is is because of people like Father. People who can't lead themselves."

Narcissa bit her lip. Draco was repeating the silent thoughts that she's shared since the first Wizarding War. But she learned from an early age, in this very house, to hold her tongue and do whatever is needed to survive. And she has, so far. But now she has an almost-grown son to think about. One that she would do anything for.

"I know you think the same, Mother. You dislike it whenever Father got called away for 'business.' You hated it whenever he would come over to the house and they would have their "secret" meetings. You never shared the same fanaticism that Auntie Bella did for him. I saw the way you look at the Mark on my arm. The Mark on Father's arm, on Auntie Bella's arm. You hate him, too." He stared, almost defiantly at his mother.

"Draco...I did what I had to do to survive. If it involved keeping my thoughts to myself and turning a blind eye to all that your father and my sister do, then so be it. But when they involved you in their plans, I...I wasn't sure if I could anymore."

"Is that why you asked Snape to make the Unbreakable Vow?"

"Precisely."

"Doesn't matter now. I didn't do it. Dumbledore is still alive. And he will surely kill me."

"Oh, Draco!" Narcissa's usually stone face was covered in tears as she buried her head in her son's shoulder. "I wish you've never seen this side of life." She hugged him again. "Why-what-Dumbledore offered you protection?"

"And you, Mother. He said that Father is safe in Azkaban at the moment. I don't know what...I don't know what they plan to do with him. He said they would hide us from him. And-and...I accepted." His face fell and tears began to run down his cheeks. "I didn't want to do it anymore, Mother! I didn't know it was going to be like this! I never...I could...I never...I only wanted to become one because Father was one! And now, he's stuck in Azkaban and I...I...I was given an impossible task! Nobody could kill Dumbledore!"

"If you had killed him, darling, your soul would've turned as black as the Dark Lord's."

Draco stared up at her, incredulous. "Wh-"

"I'm glad you didn't do it, Draco. You're just a child. Given, as you said, an impossible task. You were meant to fail, there is no doubt in my mind that the Dark Lord intended for you to fail. It would've given him the pleasure of having a reason to torture and kill you."

"So, what do we do now?" He wiped his face with the back of his hand and rubbed it on his black suit.

"Well, the only thing we can do. Accept their help and hide from the Dark Lord as completely as we can." She gave Draco another hug.

"Is this what you want, Mother?"

Narcissa gave Draco a small smile. "What I want is for you to remain alive and well. And happy. If hiding amongst the Order of the Phoenix does just that, than it is what I want."

"But-"

"Draco, quite frankly, I don't give a damn about who wins the blasted war anymore. I just want you alive and well."

There was a knock at the door and Kingsley and Moody let themselves in.

"I hope, uh, I hope we weren't interrupting anything," Kingsley said, giving Draco a reassuring smile. "But Moody and I were discussing your arrangements."

"Will there be a problem?" Narcissa straightened up and looked alarmed.

Moody rolled his good eye. "Ho-"

"Excuse him, he doesn't forgive well," interrupted Kingsley.

Draco looked at Moody in fear. He remembered when Moody "taught" at their school. He had heard that it wasn't even the real Moody, it was Barty Crouch, Jr., who was supposed to be dead in Azkaban. But what he remembered most was being turned into a ferrett; a thought that still embarrassed Draco to no end.

"No, there will not be a problem," Kingsley continued. "However, it will take some, shall we say, forgiveness, for lack of a better word, on your part."

"Where will we go?" Narcissa asked. "Where will we live? Here? The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

Kingsley noticed how she spat out her last words like Sirius used to. Clearly, calling this house "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" was a family joke amongst the cousins. He shook his head. "No, not here. I can't imagine that it gives you the best of memories. I remember Sirius complaining all the time about-" Moody cleared his throat and shot a look of impatience at Kingsley. "My apologies. But no, you will not stay here. Instead, you will be taken and hidden with Andromeda Tonks."

"Andromeda! My sister?"

Kingsley nodded sympathetically. "I know the two of you have had some differences in the past, but..."

"We have to show her that we've changed," Narcissa said immediately. She stood up and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "That I've changed."

"Have you really?" Moody said. "As far as I know, you're only here because of your boy. And because the Dark Lord wants to kill you both. So you turned to the only people who can protect you."

"Even if that were true, Moody," said Kingsley, standing in front of both Narcissa and Draco. "If one is against the Dark Lord, then that person is with us. There is one enemy, and only one that we wish to fight against. We cannot fight within ourselves. It will not help anything."

Moody fell silent, but threw Kingsley a dirty look. Kingsley was about to speak again, but stopped at the sight of a familiar-looking tabby cat Patronus before them.

"Dumbledore is dead," said the Patronus in Professor McGonagall's voice. "Snape killed him."