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…
Waking up from a terrible nightmare was never a pleasant experience. It had happened to Draco before, but very rarely. Today was obviously one of those rare days. In fact, it was even worse than a nightmare, because what he had dreamed about had the potential to come to life.
Draco focused on his breathing: deep breath in, deep breath out. His heart was racing and the images running through his head made him want to vomit. It was a good thing he was in the habit of placing silencing spells over his bed curtains, or his whole House would likely be wondering what the hell was wrong with him. His throat burned from screaming.
Gripping the silken sheets in white-fisted hands, Draco's head dropped to his chest in discouragement. Of all things he had expected to wake up to, such a horrifying vision was not such a thing. Absently, Draco wondered if this was his Seer gift's way of trying to get his attention. If he had been convinced that preventing Cedric Diggory's death today was important, his visions certainly impressed upon him the dire need for his plans to go as organized. The consequences of failure were much too daunting.
To be truthful, Draco was continually coming to hate his visions more and more. He had already understood that saving Cedric was necessary, but now he felt as if the weight of the world was placed firmly upon his shoulders, and the bulk of the responsibility could not be avoided or delegated. Should he fail…Draco shuddered, trying to push the disturbing images out of his mind's eye. He had already seen enough of the darkness in the world, but what he had just seen added significantly to that darkness. The missing support of his family was beginning to wear on him…
Reaching for his wand, Draco checked the time and found it to be early morning. Classes today had been cancelled in anticipation of the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament, so there was not much point in dragging himself out of bed until later, before breakfast ended. Even if he missed breakfast, he now knew the secret way into the kitchen.
Better, instead, to compose himself and come to terms with what he had just seen. Scenes of war, terror, mayhem, and the absolute destruction of the wizarding community were just the beginning. Really, it was surprising that he wasn't some drooling vegetable in St. Mungo's by this point.
As soon as this tournament was over, Draco needed to make it a priority to learn more about his Sight. Otherwise, it would become dangerous very quickly. Perhaps it was time he told Severus about everything. At this point, he supposed Severus was trustworthy. The Third Task would be the final test.
Changing his mind suddenly, Draco arose from the bed and exited the Slytherin dormitories, passing through the empty common room and deciding the visit a place he hadn't been in a while.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Taking his time, he walked through the empty corridors until he reached a place seldom frequented by students: the Hall of Portraits.
The majority of students ignored the portraits, finding them either irritating or surly. Draco, however, was not the kind of person to pass up free information. Seemingly useless tidbits received in the past had often turned out to be rather beneficial, when utilized in the right situations.
In this case, the portraits' insights just might save his life.
The oldest portraits were located in the back of the corridor, so Draco greeted the others as he passed. There were no books on the subject, so he knew that he had to talk to portraits older than the books he had attempted to use as a reference. He had refrained from visiting them for information before, just because their advice often had two issues. The advice came with strings attached, and could also be extremely prejudiced depending on the type of witch or wizard it came from.
At the moment, though, Draco was unsettled enough to go through with it, regardless of the cost.
As he strode down the corridor, he began to notice the frame and painting styles getting more and more antiquated. Pausing, he surveyed the portraits nearby.
Unlike the newer portraits, the elder portraits tended to be mostly silent unless directly addressed. Luckily for Draco, part of his Pureblood heritage included proper manners when addressing portraits.
"A boon for your favor." He began formally, with a slight bow.
One portrait spoke first, of an older woman. Draco would guess she was from the Greengrass family from her resemblance to Daphne. "What will my favor do for you?" She responded a bit brusquely.
Draco smiled politely. "I wish to speak to a Seer of old."
Quiet murmuring spread through the portrait hall. The woman portrait that had responded to Draco gave him a waspish smile. "My favor is yours to receive in return for a task."
"Please elaborate, madam." Draco pushed back fringe from his eyes.
"My name is Elora Greengrass and I am the third daughter of Xerxes Greengrass. What is your name, young Malfoy?" Elora inclined her head within the portrait.
"Draco Malfoy, only child of Lucius Malfoy, son of Abraxas Malfoy. It is a pleasure to meet the ancestor of a friend." Perhaps a tad over-exaggerated, but it never hurt to establish common ground in a negotiation.
Elora smiled at that, as Draco had expected. "Draco. From Draconis, I would imagine? You must be related to the Blacks with a name like that." When Draco nodded, she continued happily, "Well met, young man. I will ask my boon now. There is a certain valuable heirloom that I kept secretly in my possession until my death. Because I kept it hidden, my family likely did not rediscover it. I wish for your wizard's oath to retrieve this item and return it to the Greengrass family. When you have given your oath, I will give you the name of the Seer and his portrait location."
Intrigued, Draco nodded. Male seers were quite rare, as Sight tended to manifest to individuals with higher control and less sheer magical power, which was more typical of witches. The opportunity to speak with someone like him was very enticing. "Please tell me the location of the item, and I will give you my oath to return it. I will not agree if it is in an unreasonable place, or one that time has rendered unreachable."
Elora smirked. "Very wise of you, young Draco. The heirloom is a grimoire and it is located in Lourmarin, southern France. Since the Malfoy family comes from France, it should not be too difficult for you to travel there with relative ease. I will give you a time period of seven years to accomplish this task. It is not feasible for you to go while you are finishing your schooling."
Very reasonable terms. Draco was pleasantly surprised. "I accept. I give you my wizard's oath that I will retrieve this grimoire and return it to you family before my twenty-first birthday." Draco felt his magic flare up in response to the oath and then settle back around him. He felt invisible bonds settle into place around his wrists.
Satisfied, Elora told Draco, "The one you are looking for is the Brahan Seer. He is not known by another name. Continue walking for three minutes down the corridor and you will come across his portrait. His appearance is like that of the Weasley family…red hair and light eyes."
Bowing his head, Draco turned to follow her instructions, pulse racing with anticipation. Maybe, at last, he would finally get some answers…After he had ventured three more minutes into the corridor, Draco looked around with surprise. Compared to the densely populated walls earlier on, the wall here was empty. No other portraits surrounded the Seer.
The vibe that settled in the corridor was absolutely eerie just then. Cautiously, Draco approached the portrait and gave the politest form of greeting he had been taught. "Honored elder, I ask for your ear."
The portrait (which did indeed bear a resemblance to the Weasleys) opened clear, glacier-blue eyes. "Speak." The voice which rumbled from the portrait was rusty with disuse and deep.
"I have learned from your descendants that we share the same curse." Draco told the Seer's portrait cautiously.
The portrait's demeanor immediately changed from aloof and disinterested to intensely, frighteningly engaged. "Why have you come?"
Draco sighed, wearily rubbing his temples. "My Sight is destroying me. I had hoped you might know something, anything, that could help me."
"The cycle continues." The portrait's voice rumbled. "I have waited for you to come." The portrait lifted a hood back from his face, revealing two large scars on either side of his forehead, scars that almost appeared as if his eyes had nearly been gouged out. "Receive the privilege of being my pupil and know my true name: Kalistos Wier, the Seer of Brahan. Sit, and I will tell you what I know of this curse."
With bated breath, Draco obeyed. "My name is Draco Malfoy." He responded, settling down to listen.
Kalistos began. "I discovered the Sight late in life, compared to many other Seers. I was ten and seven years when everything began. Unlike a witch, wizard Seers have wildly unpredictable gifts connected to their Sight. Not only did I suffer through horrible visions, but I also found I had the ability to charm-speak. It quickly grew unmanageable. I could barely make a comment without beguiling others to agree or obey me. My friends turned away, terrified that I would make slaves of them. I could not control it and it was destroying my life. It was in the midst of despair that I self-inflicted these scars." The Seer paused. "I mistakenly believed that if my eyes were gone, my Sight would be gone as well. I was terribly wrong. In the midst of this I had a vision of my family's death. When I woke up, my scars were healed and my family was dead."
Kalistos's voice was emotionless, time deadening the pain, as he continued, "I was inconsolable. I had nothing to live for, and my life was torment. The only thing that saved me was the discovery of an ancient book in my family library…the journal of a male Seer generations before me. Through the journal's guidelines, I was able to tame my ability. My predecessor Seer was tormented by his gift of beast control. He came to understand it through the writings of another male Seer, and formatted a list of rules. Living by these rules and training with your gift will allow you to control it."
Draco took this all in with trembling hands. He was close, so close, to learning what he needed…
Kalistos jutted his chin out at Draco. "I will tell you where the journal is, but in return you will grant me two things. First, you will tell me about your gift. Second, after you have some modicum of control over your gift you will destroy my portrait and release me. I have served my purpose."
Draco nodded. "Yes. My difficulties sound a bit different than the charm-speak you dealt with. I have…multiple facets of Sight. There are three aspects that have manifest thus far. I call them Voices, Flashes, and Visions." He paused, gathering the right words. "I see the voices of people in color. Each person has a uniquely colored voice, according to their personality and values. Whenever a person speaks I see color. As for the Flashes, I cannot be touched by someone without seeing the memories of that person, or certain aspects of their future. The Visions are similar to what you describe…warnings of future calamity. However, when I suffer an injury in the vision, I awake to find it has injured me outside of my dream as well. I am afraid that I will die in a vision and never wake up."
Kalistos stared at Draco in silence for several long moments before he responded. "There is no precedent for having more than one gift, excluding the visions. Your abilities are worrying. You may have to develop further theories in order to protect yourself. However, as I promised, I will give you the location of the journal. It is located within the Chamber of Secrets. I hid it there during my time as the Professor of Divination."
Draco scowled. "The Chamber of Secrets was sealed off after a mishap two years ago with a basilisk. I will not be able to enter inside without someone who has been inside."
Kalistos frowned in return, thoughtful. "And there is no one who was inside the chamber that could assist you?"
Draco thought back to the rumors he had heard in second year. The Gryffindor Trio…and Ginny Weasley. Well. Perhaps the Girl Weasley would finally prove her worth. "There is…a possibility. Once I am inside the Chamber, how will I find the journal? It must be massive."
Kalistos gave him a small smile. "There is a secret compartment near the statue of Salazar Slytherin decorated with a Third Eye. Simply channel your magic into it and it will open, recognizing your Sight."
Draco nodded solemnly, stood, and bowed. "Thank you, honored elder. I will do as you have asked, and return if I need your assistance, or if I do not."
He turned and left the hall of portraits, head spinning. Touching his connection to Viktor, he said urgently, Find Fred and George, and have them bring Ginny to Severus's office. I require her assistance. Fred and George can come along.
Finally, at last, progress after searching so long. Draco had been afraid to come here before, cautioned by tales of extraction and unreasonable tasks from the portraits. Now, he wished he had come sooner.
Moments later he was in Snape's empty office, waiting. After some time three Weasleys burst through the door. Ginny sneered at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Clearly she still held some discrimination against him for his father's actions.
Giving her a chastising look, he turned and greeted Fred and George instead of answering. "Thanks for coming. I discovered that there is an important cache hidden in the Chamber of Secrets. Hence your sister." In order to keep the peace, Draco decided to use his allies as mediums rather than speaking directly to Girl Weasley.
Ginny began to squawk immediately. "The Chamber? No! Absolutely not, I am never going back there again." Her face was beginning to pale.
Deciding there was something to be gained here, Draco turned to meet her eyes. "Weasley…Ginny." Using her name snapped her attention to him. "I wouldn't ask this if it weren't of paramount importance. Potter's life could be in danger." In a very roundabout sort of way, it was somewhat true.
By the look on Fred and George's faces, they knew that it was 85% untrue. But they didn't intervene.
"Harry? Well of course then…but why would you want to help Harry? You hate each other." Ginny peered suspiciously at Draco, feeling unnerved by the civility. And the fact that, well…Draco Malfoy could never be called ugly, and even Ginny had to acknowledge that he was bloody attractive. Even though he was a complete jerk.
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead crossed his arms over his chest. "I have never hated Harry Potter. I could care less about Potter's person, true, but his safety is a matter of the wizarding world's safety, so in that sense it is in my best interests to help Potter."
At that rather selfish answer, Ginny seemed reassured. "Fine, I will take you to the Chamber. The entrance is in the girl's bathroom, the one Moaning Myrtle haunts."
Fred and George looked gleeful at the start of a new adventure. "Gin Gin -" began one twin, "You've been holding out on us!" Finished the second. They both circled the room, poking and prodding at the various objects.
Ginny stood with her arms clutched around herself and face pale. She said nothing, but she was trembling slightly.
With a weary sigh, Draco decided that Fred and George weren't going to comfort her. Barely believing that he was doing this, he stepped up beside Ginny and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. It was something Charlie would want him to do, after all…this was his little sister.
She looked up at him in shock, meeting cool gray eyes. Swallowing audibly, she murmured softly, "Thanks."
Nodding wordlessly, he moved away toward the statue of Salazar Slytherin. As instructed, he examined the area nearby for the Third Eye. Concentrating on the symbol, he reached out with his magic, feeling something pulse back. A deep rumbling sound echoed throughout the Chamber as stone slid aside, revealing a compartment on the floor.
Fred and George scurried over. "What did you find?" George questioned, while Fred remarked, "Is it a basilisk?"
Draco gave them a scornful look. "Why in Salazar's name would I go looking for a basilisk? I'm not a Gryffindor." He reached down into the compartment and removed three items: a leather-bound book, a gold and indigo cloth, and a silver collar. "I found what I came for. We can go now." He tucked the items away into his robes so that Fred and George wouldn't ask too many questions.
They began the trek out of the Chamber after a few protests. However, to silence the twins, Draco simply directed their gazes to a still-pale Ginny. As Fred and George led the way, Draco dropped back a little to speak to Ginny. "Thank you for coming. It can't have been easy." Without waiting for a response, Draco took several long strides and drew even with George.
They parted ways then, and Draco returned to the Slytherin dormitory carefully, keeping an eye out for troublemakers. He headed straight to his room and drew the bed curtains, casting locking and privacy charms and opening the book. The first page contained a strange sentence.
Seer's First Rule: The law of power. Control the Sight before it controls you.
The journal elaborated further after that. Apparently, outside the specific gifts, a male Seer's Sight was inherently imbalanced and dangerous. Even if the gift manifestations were not harmful, the visions themselves would begin to cause horrible headaches that would eventually lead to death if the Sight was not trained.
A male Seer was rare, and the journal's author knew of no other male seer but one predecessor, who had already passed along and left his writings. Draco could read between the lines and infer that male seers were rare because they often died before gaining control of their abilities.
The book continued to talk about the headaches. Apparently, once the headaches manifested, they would become increasingly more painful within a relatively short amount of time. As soon as the headache hit, he would have to isolate himself and fully concentrate on training his Sight, or risk being destroyed by it.
Somehow, Draco could sense that time was coming more quickly than he would prefer. Skipping ahead a bit, Draco found the next section.
Seer's Second Rule: The law of mistrust. Visions can be deceptive. Don't blindly trust what you See.
A chill went down Draco's spine at those ominous words. If he couldn't trust his visions, then what was their purpose other than to make his life miserable? He had assumed that, by receiving the visions, he was supposed to act upon them or risk his magic. Was that assumption wrong?
To his relief, it didn't seem as if that was what the journal was trying to say. Rather, it was more a question of interpretation, and not being overconfident in an assumed meaning. Well, that seemed self-explanatory to Draco. Overconfidence always led to a fall. He skipped ahead again, trying to find a specific "next-step" to implement and lessen the danger.
Seer's Third Rule: The law of inhibitors. There are two necessary items for a Seer to remain in control: a sealing cloth and a binding collar.
Intrigued, Draco removed the silver collar and the indigo-gold cloth. These must be those items…scanning the passage quickly, he nearly collapsed in relief at the welcome information.
The sealing cloth is magically adapted specifically to dim the Seer's sight, reducing the potency of visions and premonitions. The seal bound within the cloth disguises the Seer's magical aura and muffles his magical power from other's perceptions. In early stages of training, the cloth is necessary in order to limit power and increase ease of control.
The binding collar controls Seer-specific gifts, discussed more in the fifth seer's rule. Without the collar gifts have the potential to overwhelm a seer's other senses and loosen his anchor in reality. Many fully-trained seers continue to use the collar for extra security, fearful that their gifts will cause harm to others. It also allows seers to blend back in with wizarding society in gifted areas. For example, my own gift was beast control. Anytime I was around animals, they would approach me and do my bidding. In order to keep my abilities secret, I would wear the collar anytime I was in public and might possibly be approached by animals.
Needing no further urging, Draco snapped the collar around his neck first, goosebumps prickling his flesh as he felt the strange sensation of a clamp around his magic. Maybe, with this…he might actually touch someone without seeing their memories or their futures. The thought was liberating.
Next, he tied the cloth firmly over his eyes, uncaring that he would receive strange looks. He didn't plan on running into anyone until after the Third Task, in which he would be the recipient of stares anyways. Intrigued, he found that he could see just as well as if there was nothing over his eyes. He would bet that the cloth had a multitude of other charms and runes woven into the cloth.
Drawing in a deep breath, Draco moved to the next section. He would do a more in-depth study of the journal later, but right now he didn't have the time before the Task began.
Fourth Seer's Rule: The law of soul-bonds. Male seers often have spirit guides or familiars. Such a companion is also a method of increasing control. In rare occasions, two human souls have been bound together in a similar manner, but it has always ended poorly. Beware of forming soul-bonds with other wizards or witches; a seer's soul is constantly reaching out and drawing others in.
Draco sincerely hoped that his blood pact with Viktor was not influenced by his seer's soul in that way. However, it didn't seem as if there had been any negative effects so far, so he could only continue to wait and see.
Fifth Seer's Rule: The law of gifts. Male seers always have a gift, defined as a strange ability that is often coercive and dangerous to others. There are three known categories for gifts: persuasion, control, and discernment.
He continued to read a bit further for clarification, A gift of persuasion allows for the influence of others through speech, song, or writing. Control, such as my gift, allows the seer to bypass the free will of other creatures and command them. Finally, the rarest category, discernment, allows the seer to gather information, memories, thoughts, feelings, and other aspects of the psyche from anyone they encounter. All of these gifts are very dangerous, but the gift of discernment is more dangerous to the seer than to others as the influx of unwanted information can be mentally harmful.
Draco groaned to himself. Of course, he would have the gift that put his own life in danger. The journal continued to give examples of known seer gifts, but Draco again skipped ahead.
Sixth Seer's Rule: The law of balance. Balance is essential to a seer's existence. A seer whose heart, mind, or soul is out of balance will be ineffective and easily destroyed. Know yourself. To doubt in your abilities is to risk everything.
That rule seemed particularly vague and mysterious to Draco. He would have to reflect upon it when he had more time, as reading the details would probably give more explanation. He flipped to the next rule.
Seventh Seer's Rule: The law of sacrificial magic. Be extremely wary of sacrificial magic and life-debts becoming intertwined with your Sight. Such interactions of magic can have unintended and far-reaching consequences.
Draco's eyes shot up from the book when he heard a quiet groan. The time was early afternoon, so it was surprising that anyone was in the dormitories. Closing the book and tucking it into his robes, he stood and made his way toward the sound to investigate.
What he saw was shocking. Theodore Nott was hunched up against the wall, practically collapsed against it for support. His face was a mottled network of bruises, and blood dribbled from his split lip.
Draco immediately grasped what had happened. Theo's sexuality sometimes painted him as a target, especially to some of the older Gryffindor students, who were notoriously homophobic. While it was rare, such a thing had occurred before. "You bloody idiot," Draco murmured, harsh words contrasting his gentle manner as he helped Theo to his bed. "You should know better than to wander alone. Now give me the names of those fuckers." As he spoke, he drew his wand and began casting healing and diagnostic spells. Theo's nose was broken, he discovered, and a quick Episkey solved that. Draco healed the split lip and did his best for the multitude of bruises, all the while staring Theo down intensely, waiting for a response.
Theo gave an airy laugh and waved off Draco's concern. "Don't stir up trouble on my behalf, you know whatever you do will somehow get turned back on you. We're the evil Slytherins, after all. We deserve whatever we get. Anyways, what's with the blindfold? Did I walk in on something I shouldn't have?"
Draco gripped Theodore's collar fiercely, eyes glinting like steel. He ignored the innuendo filled inquiry. "I don't want to hear you saying things like that again. This isn't normal, nor is it acceptable. Don't excuse or tolerate their prejudice. If I want to punish those shit-faces it is my own prerogative. Names. Now." His hands loosened from the shirt collar and smoothed down Theo's chest clinically, feeling for broken ribs.
Theo rattled off their names listlessly, both weary and grateful for Draco's interference. He winced as Draco's hands found a particularly tender area right below his ribcage. "Fucking ow, you tosser!" he complained.
Draco's cold but furious gaze quieted him quickly. "This cannot keep happening. After the Tournament, we are going to make some demands. Our influence within this school should not result in treatment like this."
Theodore's eyes widened fractionally. "Draco, you have no idea what kind of trouble you would be getting yourself into. Just leave it be, we only have two years left after this. It isn't worth causing a stir."
Draco's eyes narrowed in response to that. While he wasn't overbearingly arrogant, he was an aristocrat through and through. "I'll do what I damn well please, Theodore. And this does not please me." He gripped Theo's chin firmly, tilting it down to examine a cut across his housemate's brow. "Other than the bruising, is there anything else hurting?"
Theo smiled ruefully. "Other than my pride?" he wisecracked. "No, that crack to the nose was the biggest one. Got in a few good kicks here, too." He tapped his midsection nonchalantly. "I'm still pretty, so I guess they failed. Thanks for the help, mate."
Draco gave him a rare smile. "Looks like your pride is doing just fine." He commented sardonically. He rose from Theo's bed and felt the book inside his robes smack into his hip with the motion.
Theo eyed him warily. "Really, though, what's with the blindfold? It's freaking me out. How can you even see?"
Draco sighed in annoyance. "It's an artifact. I can see despite it. It helps my magic. Let's leave it at that." He cast a quick glamour over the cloth and the collar, thankful that he had always been skilled at glamour magic.
Theo watched him cast, fascinated. "I didn't know you could do that." He commented, raising an eyebrow. "Glamour magic is difficult, right? Why didn't you do things like that in Defense? You would've beat more people in duels using deception magic."
Draco pressed his lips together. "You've been in Slytherin for four years, Theodore. Haven't you learned the value of an ace in the hole yet? Revealing all your strengths gives other people the opportunity to counter them more easily."
Theo chuckled. "You really are the perfect Slytherin, Draco." His ambiguous comment sounded neutral, but there was a hint of bitterness there.
Draco's gaze was penetrating. "A perfect Slytherin? Only if you think a perfect Slytherin is one who will likely get disowned in the next few days." He moved into Theo's space, eyes sharp with intelligence. "I don't know what you all insist on putting me on a pedestal. Blaise said something similar a few days back. It's ridiculous."
Theo met his eyes steadily. "You only say that because you can't see how much composure you have about everything, how many things we admire about you. You're so confident that what you're doing is the most logical option and we envy that self-assurance. We are all floundering and you aren't."
Draco shook his head, denying the points. "What would be the point of doubting my own judgment? I think we've all been through enough shit to know a bit about how bad decisions play out, and to be suitably cautious."
Theo just smiled and shrugged. "If you say so. Not everyone thinks like that, though. Anyways, what were you doing in here before I staggered in? Last minute strategizing?"
Draco smirked. "Something like that." He responded enigmatically. "What were you doing before you foolishly decided to wander alone? I'll take you back there."
Theo stood up, wincing at the soreness. In a moment of rare vulnerability, he gave in to his body's demand and leaned into Draco. His limbs nearly shook with exhaustion. The blue-eyed boy murmured in a low voice, "You've been different lately. More involved. It's nice."
Because of that action, Draco knew Theo was more shaken than he was letting on about the incident. His desire for the punishment of the aggressors was strengthened. Although Blaise was the self-appointed "best friend" of Draco, there had always been a softer spot for Theo, likely because he came from an old Pureblood family like Draco and understood so much more than Blaise often did. Perhaps as a result of that, Draco found himself stroking the nape of Theo's neck comfortingly. It also was partly motivated by his desire to see if Flashes would still happen.
When none were forthcoming, Draco smiled to himself. The final test would, of course, be his visions, and if he woke again with a wound. But this was a good sign.
Theo, on the other hand, was shocked into stillness by the uncharacteristic gesture. He was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, so he breathed in Draco's scent and savored the moment before stepping back and meeting Draco's eyes warmly, wordlessly, to show that he was thankful. "Most of us were out by the lake enjoying the sun. After the task, it's supposed to snow for a week or so." He stepped past Draco, leading the way out of the quiet dormitory.
They continued outside to the lake, where most of the Hogwarts students were scattered across the lawn. Pulling his robes tighter around himself to block out the wind (just because it was sunny didn't mean that it wasn't cold), Draco slid into the grass beside Theo, pressing closer than he normally would because the wind was icy cold. He felt a mental tug from Viktor and looked up.
The muscled Seeker gave Draco a nod of greeting and plopped onto the grass among the halfheartedly. His attention was caught, however, when Pansy began speaking of her parents.
"They sent me a letter last week telling me that they were looking for someone to marry me off to. If they have their way, I'll probably be engaged by next year and married straight out of Hogwarts. It's insane! My mother must be taking too many potions to think this will work out."
Draco internally frowned at himself. It seems that he had been much too absorbed in his own problems not to notice all the pressures his friends seemed to be under…maybe Theodore was right, not because Draco was better at handling stressful situations, but because he wasn't supporting his friends as well as they were supporting him. Leaning forward, Draco spoke to Pansy. "What can they use to force you to comply? They can legally engage you without your consent, but once you are of marriageable age, you will also have access to your trust fund."
Pansy raised her eyebrows. Draco wasn't normally the type to involve himself in the everyday situations of his housemates. A little snippily, she told him, "They can't really force me, Draco, but I don't want them to kick me out or stop providing for me. My parents are important to me, and I don't want to upset them…even if they have horrible taste in men." There were two subtle but painful barbs directed at Draco: parents and men. After all, clearly Draco didn't care about his parents that much since he was disobeying them. And Pansy's family had considered a betrothal between Pansy and Draco before, so her comment was derogatory to Draco as well.
Draco pressed his lips together in an effort to hide his recoil from that. He couldn't expect his housemates to treat him kindly all the time, especially when he had been so self-absorbed lately. Pansy was just upset and he had made himself an easy target. As a Slytherin, he couldn't become sensitive to the comments of his housemates, and he certainly shouldn't be taken aback by something as minor as this.
Surprisingly, it was Theo who stuck up for Draco. "Don't be a bitch, Pans. Draco was just trying to help. No need to bite his head off."
Both Pansy and Blaise blinked at Theo in astonishment. Theo was typically fairly quiet and not the type to stick up for himself, least of all for others.
Clearing her throat, Pansy quickly recovered. "Er, right. Sorry, Drake. That was a bit nasty of me."
Draco accepted the apology with an uncaring shrug. He met Theo's gaze and gave him a small smile of thanks.
At that moment, footsteps sounded behind them and Draco turned slightly to see who was approaching them. Unexpectedly, it was Charlie…surrounded by a horde of Weasleys. Draco simply raised an eyebrow, not impressed by the posse.
Charlie caught his look and rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I was just going to come say hi and they all insisted on following me."
Fred and George dropped onto the grass, grinning mischievously at Draco with knowing looks in their eyes. Clearly they thought they were something special, now knowing the way into the Chamber of Secrets. Draco should feel sorry for their future victims but he didn't have the capacity. As long as it wasn't him…
Ginny and Ron Weasley hovered behind either of Charlie's shoulders, glaring at Draco. Granger and Potter had also tagged along: Granger was eyeing the Slytherins suspiciously, while Potter was staring rather piteously at Draco. Draco ignored the lot of them, with the exception of the twins and Charlie.
The oldest Weasley present seemed content to watch Draco and his friends. Other than planning meetings, he had never seen the Ice Prince in his natural element around his friends, and the interactions were intriguing.
At least, they were until he watched Theodore lean in close and whisper something, causing Draco to chuckle, hair mussed and eyes alight with contentment. A strange feeling twisted in his chest. He avoided thinking about what he could be feeling, because if he thought about it he would definitely know exactly what it was.
To distract himself, Charlie lowered himself to the grass on Draco's opposite side and leaned back, staring at the sky. The rest of the posse decided to wander away at that moment, not willing to be seen sitting peacefully with the Slytherins. Draco was grateful for the pretentiousness, as he didn't exactly want people who hated him hanging around on a lark either.
As the rest of the Slytherins were entertained by the twins, Draco leaned in to speak to Charlie quietly. "You look a little more stressed than the last time we spoke." Draco remarked quietly, not really asking but waiting for Charlie to speak about what was wrong.
Charlie looked surprised. "I sometimes forget how perceptive you are." He looked more closely at Draco for a moment, blinking. "Are you wearing a glamour? Something's a bit strange…"
Draco smirked. "Yes." For a brief moment, he let it drop, allowing Charlie to see the cloth covering his eyes. "I finally found what I was looking for. I am hoping this will keep me from getting hurt in the visions. I can touch people now without seeing things, which is a good sign." His hand briefly ghosted across Charlie's knee demonstratively.
A broad grin spread across Charlie's face. "That's fantastic! I knew you would find something. It's even better that you found it before the Third Task." They were keeping their voices low so that others couldn't here. After Draco had briefly dropped the glamour, Charlie was able to see Draco's face as it actually was. He reached out and touch the cloth at Draco's temple, feeling the buzz of magic surrounding the runic cloth. "That's impressive...I can't imagine how many charms and runes are contained in that thing. It buzzes like ancient magical artifacts."
Draco chuckled, voice husky. "That's pretty much what it is. In fact, this thing is probably even older than many of the things we see as ancient…" He muttered quietly.
Charlie cocked his head to one side, humming in agreement. "It is an interesting look for you…somehow it really reinforces the idea that you're actually a Seer." It was then that they both noticed all the people staring at them, and realized that Charlie had just seemingly leaned in and touched Draco's face. Charlie quickly looked away and tried to act nonchalant. Draco just smirked at his friends, uncaring.
Draco was trying not to focus on or think about the upcoming Task, but not succeeding very well at his avoidance. Surrounded by his friends and allies, he was at least confident that he wouldn't be left alone to face anything. With a yawn, Draco scooted down further into the grass, draping his feet across Charlie's legs and imperiously resting his head on Theo's thigh. Despite his anxiety, he was incredibly relaxed at the same time. The wounds on his back weren't pulling much today and the scar on his arm had healed enough that it was itchy rather than painful. Staring at the sky thoughtfully, he let his body relax and sink into the ground.
Draco's friends watched him fondly, glad to see that he wasn't visibly worried or apprehensive about the final Task. Theo lifted his hand and carded it gently through Draco's white-blond locks, happy to have this moment of peace. The gorgeous blonde on his lap was another plus.
The moment was broken when music began playing, indicating that the Third Task would be beginning soon. Draco's face grew business-like and he stood quickly.
Viktor was getting to his feet as well. "That is the summons for the Champions. I need to go. Draco, stay safe. Follow the plan and things should work out." He patted Blaise and Theo on the back, kissed Pansy's cheek, and clasped Draco's forearm briefly before disappearing toward the music's origin.
Charlie was standing to his feet as well, brushing the grass from his trousers. "Better go get our dragon ready for action. Can't believe this is really happening." He disappeared as well.
The rest of the group, Slytherin and Weasley alike, headed toward the stands after saying goodbye to Draco. The Malfoy heir gathered up the Invisibility Cloak and his broom, readying himself for the intervention ahead.
Throwing the cloak nervously over his head and mounting his broom, he flew toward the maze and watched, aloof, as the Third Task began. The noise was nearly deafening as the crowd of Hogwarts students, family members, and those who came as spectators from the London Wizarding Community roared their approval of the Third Task beginning.
Draco's mind was racing too quickly to pay much attention to the Champions and their actions inside the maze. After all of the Champions had encountered their first obstacle, Draco kicked off of the ground again and flew toward the center of the maze, apprehensive. He made sure to steer clear of any magical creatures that might be able to see through the Invisibility Cloak, making his way rapidly but carefully toward the disguised automatic Portkey. It was then that he heard the roar of the dragon. Hopefully the dragon and the Champions would keep the attention away from the maze center, where floating objects would be clearly visible.
Swooping into the maze center, Draco landed smoothly and pulled the Runic bag Snape had given him from his robe pocket along with a small cup. With a swish of his unregistered wand, he Transfigured the small cup into a look-alike Triwizard cup. Using his broom handle Draco slid the Cup smoothly into the bag and placed the Transfigured-cup onto the pedestal.
His hands were shaking and his body dripping with sweat from the simple motions, nervous of being caught or making a mistake.
Painstakingly tying the bag, extremely careful not to touch the Portkey, Draco tucked it into his robes and flew out of the maze, adrenaline surging through his veins. Phase one: Complete. He told Viktor, touching the mark on his palm. I have the Portkey.
