Fawley had insisted on checking the pounds in a room which was far away from prying eyes. Percy Weasley had nodded his approval, as if going to a separate room was normal procedure. He handed over the pounds after turning them several times in his hands, as if he wanted to test the feeling. Draco had not held any hope for a swift exchange after he saw the article in the Prophet, but he had hoped, that begging would prove to be enough. Not this time though. He would not get away lightly today.
Draco knew why Percy Weasley disliked him. He knew, why he had to prove, over and over again, that he stood firmly on the Weasleys side. Why he could not let it lie. An unaddressed bad conscience could lead to terrible results. It meant that the normally rule-abiding Percy Weasley pretended not to realise what 'negotiating' with Fawley meant. And Fawley made sure, that nothing would be visible at first glance.
Draco had no idea what made Fawley tick though. If you looked at the insults he threw at Draco, he either hated him for being a squib, which was technically untrue, or for marrying a muggleborn or for being responsible for rogue house elves or for leaking pureblood society secrets to a lawyer. Fawley just hated him. At least, after 'negotiating' for half an hour, Percy Weasley had knocked on the door. Half an hour was probably what his conscience allowed him, and Draco had gotten the signature that his 800 pounds were indeed genuine.
The irony that he got this signature from a wizard with thinly disguised pureblood prejudice was not lost on him, but laughing hurt. Draco wondered if his ribs were just bruised or if they might be cracked. He would have to see a doctor. Should he tell Hermione? She was away on an international conference from Thursday on, and he might be able to play over it. If he told her, she would cry, swear that her next case would be profitable, that he would never have to do the trip again. That she would sue Fawley and Gringotts to hell and back. He smiled wryly at the image of Hermione seething with anger.
A law suit against Fawley and Gringotts might even be winnable, especially if Hermione put her mind to it, but at the end of the day, they still needed school equipment, Hermione would still defend clients who had no knut to spare and with current Muggle politics, changing pounds to euros and making an exchange somewhere on the continent was not an option. His bruises on the other hand would fade. A typical case of "solve one problem, get eight more", or SOPGEM as he and Hermione liked to call it.
Draco gave his receipt to Percy Weasley. "The pounds are genuine. Can I get galleons now?"
The redhead nodded. Draco could see that he was a bit uneasy and he was not above exploiting Weasley's bout of conscience.
"Could I have a glass of water, please?", he asked.
There were glasses and water for customers and Weasley gestured silently to them. Draco poured himself a glass and angled for aspirin in his pockets. He pressed two pills in his hand and downed them with the water.
"Muggle painkillers", he explained, arching an eyebrow as if he let Weasley in on a secret.
Weasley's cheeks became slightly redder than before, but he kept silent. Draco did not say anything more. It was important that the banker could pretend that nothing illegal had happened.
He shoved a paper form in Draco's hand.
"Sign here, that you got the galleons."
Draco's eyes widened when he saw that Weasley had given him twelve galleons in exchange.
He signed the parchment and handed it over to Weasley.
On a whim he took a sheet of paper from his pocket and wrote down the signs he had seen on Fawley's wrist.
IV * VII
"How is Gringotts' policy on blood suprematists, Mr Weasley?" he asked.
"You know very well, Mr Malfoy, that such people are not allowed in any position where their opinion could be harmful. I am quite astonished that you of all people would ask such a question."
His scowl made Draco hastily bag the galleons, just in case.
"I saw this on Fawley's arm, when he rolled up his sleeves. I'd bet all my money that this is a sign for the sacred 28 and you should probably look into it."
"I have never seen anything like that, certainly not on Mr Fawley, I don't know why I should believe you, and you shouldn't bet money we both know you do not have, Mr Malfoy." Percy Weasley looked down his nose.
"Just in a manner of speaking, Mr Weasley." Draco stood up. "Have a nice evening and be sure to tell your brother how I begged for money. I guess he needs all the uplifting entertainment he can get."
He probably shouldn't have said that, but his tongue sometimes had just a life of its own.
When he left Gringotts, galleons close to his body, just in case, he saw Rina standing on the stairs, a witch, Draco knew quite well, at her side. It was Astoria Greengrass, the Charms professor at Hogwarts, since Hermione had represented her in her case against her own father. If he had lived his life as the Malfoy heir, he would have probably married Astoria or her older sister. Considering where Astoria's preferences ran, that would have been a decidedly unhappy marriage. He could just picture himself with Astoria by his side, with the one and only son and heir, probably named after a star constellation in the Black tradition. He shuddered briefly.
Rina had a white handkerchief in her hands and blew her nose. Draco felt a sudden tug at his heart, as he always did, when he saw one of his children hurt and could do nothing about it.
"Good evening, Astoria," he addressed the witch.
She gave him a curt nod. "Your daughter needed a tissue. I was about to go and offer her some tea."
"Thank you, Professor" Rina sniffed. Her voice sounded small and subdued and Draco felt that tug again.
He smiled at Rina. "I got enough for a wand. Don't you worry." Close up, he could see that her eyes were still glittering with tears.
He placed his arm around her, and his daughter hugged him back. He tried to hide that the sudden impact on his ribs hurt him.
Draco took out his phone to text Hermione. He frowned at the crack on the screen. That must have been Fawley's negotiating skills. Well, he would just have to change the screen protection.
Hermione had sent a rather frantic text. What happened? I had to get rid of five howlers already. Did you get in a fight with RW? Are you o.k.? Ily.
Howlers. He wondered why none had found him yet. Howlers got a bit confused around him, but if Hermione had gotten five, at least one should have found him. Gringotts probably had howler-repelling magic. No banking house worth its money would allow such a disturbance of paying customers.
Weasel apparently in irreconcilable differences (again). Special afternoon edition of the Prophet, just the usual garbage. Got the money, tell Colin to meet us at Ollivander's, lyt. The rest would have to wait.
"I trust you are well?" he asked Astoria. "I hear you are a good teacher."
Astoria nodded. "Thank you. I like it. During the holidays I've been doing some research to give Headmaster Flitwick a helping hand. I've undertaken the task to look into the failure of the school's wizarding register scroll."
"Failure of the school scroll?"
"We told you about that, dad. At the sorting, last September? There was one girl who was not on the list, but she was sorted into Hufflepuff with Lizzie."
Draco remembered. He had joked that the Sorting Hat must have gotten into his dotage.
Astoria grimaced. "The parents were livid. They even threatened to sue Hogwarts. It was an old wizarding family into the bargain."
"If the school scroll fails, muggleborns might be overlooked," Draco said.
"Exactly."
Draco frowned. "The school scroll is very old magic. Are there other signs, it is failing? Are you searching for other cases?"
Astoria nodded. "I found three so far. Old wizarding families whose children were not in the school scroll but have magic."
Draco tooted. "That is a potential disaster. Any unregistered muggleborns yet?"
She shook her head.
"You should have my wife take a look at the scroll."
"I don't doubt your wife's competence, but that scroll was made by the founders themselves."
Draco could not help himself. "And my wife has a very vivid imagination when it comes to transcending the boundaries of what can be done with magic."
Astoria barked a laugh.
"You're hardly looking for magical children at Gringotts though," Draco said.
Her face closed, very suddenly.
Draco raised his hand. "I don't want to pry. We'll have to be off anyway before Ollivander shuts the doors on us."
Astoria shook her head. "There is no reason you cannot know. You might even be interested."
Draco raised his eyebrows and Astoria bit her lips as if she had to think what to say.
"Hogwarts has been given a very generous donation by an old family and I was given authority to collect the money."
It was as if he had gotten another punch. Draco had not thought that ribs could hurt that much.
"Any conditions?", he asked. "Rich people usually give money only under conditions."
"Like buying brooms for the Quidditch team so that someone gets on the team?" Rina piped up.
Draco shot her a half-amused look. "For the last time. I did not become seeker for Slytherin through bribes. I made the team after try outs."
Rina giggled. "That's what he always says. My mum doesn't believe him."
"It is one of the few things we fight about." Draco admitted. In a way it was a ridiculous reason to fight, but most of their fights were laughable, at least after the fact.
"I am not sure I believe you either, considering your behaviour in school." Astoria said.
Draco huffed.
"Anyway, there are no conditions, no regulations on which house should benefit. It is just a huge sum for school equipment, books, potion kettles, anything."
"How unusual," Draco remarked. He tried not to sound too interested. His scutum should repel any side effects of the cut-out curse, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He probably imagined it, but he thought he could feel the tendrils of the malevolent magic trying to reach for him.
"In a way it is a tragic case. The heir of the family has … vanished, and now his mother wants to do as much as she can for …. ", she halted and looked pointedly at Rina.
Draco nodded, not trusting his voice. This was a day for old wounds to reopen, he thought. It hurt much more than the negotiation with Fawley.
"For what would be just considered the heir's byblows in pureblood tradition."
Draco licked his lips and scoffed shortly. "I see.".
Rina's eyes were full of questions, but Draco pressed his finger to her lips.
"Thank you," he said and closed his eyes. "Do you happen to meet this very benevolent donator in the near future?"
"I might."
"Could you do me a kindness, Astoria?"
"If I can."
"Tell her, I know. Tell her, I've always known."
Her eyes were full of understanding and pity. Draco resented the pity but reminded himself that Astoria had her own problems with her family. And Astoria did not deserve his resentment.
Rina and Draco bade her good evening.
Fic moodboard by @dena-1984
Fic moodboard
Chapter 14: Questions and Answers
Summary:
Draco and Rina talk and we learn some things about Percy Weasley.
Notes:
It can be very dangerous to be in a resistance during dictatorship and I think it is interesting what people's opinion are after the dictator has been defeated. I honestly think, that Snape would not be hailed as a hero, if he had not died.
A double agent has to do many shady things, and there is always the question whose side a person is really on. So, it ultimately comes down to what people want to believe.
In this fic, Draco did defect from Voldemort, but circumstances were such, that it was hard to believe that, and there was no proof.
Chapter Text
As soon as they were out of earshot, Rina opened her mouth.
"Was that about your mother?"
Draco shushed her. "You'd better not ask after details, Rina. And that is not a request, that is an order. Better you look it up. Look it up in the 'Greengrass guide to pureblood boons and banes', the book Astoria wrote after the Greengrass vs. Greengrass trial."
The cut-out curse was mentioned in Astoria's book. A book that had been such a scandal, that Astoria had been offered a job at Hogwarts to be safe. That had been still under McGonnagall.
"I always assumed that you fell out." Rina's voice dropped to a whisper. "That this was about your inability to do magic."
"Yes, everyone assumes, and it is probably for the best."
"Why?"
"At least she is safe from people who hate me."
Rina stopped.
"But why, why do people hate you? That is not fair."
"Life is not fair, Rina."
"That is not a very satisfying answer."
"I know, but it is a true answer. I'll try to explain. For the traditional purebloods, I am a disgrace. They think I should have killed myself the moment the scutum made me unable to do magic. And even if they do not believe I defected during the war, I still married a muggleborn. I still told pureblood secrets to my wife, secrets they have kept to themselves for centuries. Secrets I can only freely talk about because of the scutum. Secrets that show just how hypocritical they are. Then there are the people who did not believe in Voldemort, but wriggled through during the war. They look at me and see that it was possible to do something. It is easy to respect Severus Snape for being a double agent and praise him as a hero. He is dead. I am alive."
He sighed. "And then there are the heroes, who stood against Voldemort. In their world of black and white there is no place for someone like me. For Merlin's sake, I myself do not remember half of what I did or didn't do."
He could see that Rina bit her lip. "But mum…. Mum was a heroine, wasn't she?"
"Your mum chose me. That discredited her."
"The man we met today, that's one of Ron Weasley's brothers? Why does he hate you? I mean, it was not him, who was engaged to mum."
"Percy Weasley dislikes me for reasons that have nothing to do with the Weasel."
Rina frowned. "But the Prophet article?"
"Oh, I am sure, that he thinks he dislikes me because your mum left his brother, or because his other brother died in the war or even because your mum brought his father down – which is only true if you squint very hard, but I do think that in his hear of hearts he is just ashamed and seeing me reminds him of that."
"How so?"
"You know, Percy Weasley worked for the ministry during the war. Your mum says, he claimed that he was uneasy the whole time and knew that something was not right, the hunting of muggleborns only thinly disguised as registering them and all that. And just before the battle of Hogwarts he switched sides and stood with the Order."
"Why would that make him dislike you? I mean you defected as well?"
"Not that anybody but a few believe that. Percy for sure doesn't believe I defected. That might come into it as well. Because I know he is a liar. He was in Malfoy Manor, once, with the minister. He knew, he just knew that Voldemort was behind everything. And he knows I know, or rather he suspects I know. It is one of the few things I remember clearly, because there was no reason to tamper with that memory."
"I still don't understand."
"Every time he sees me, he has to prove that his loyalty is and has always been to his family."
Rina's face was pale, and Draco stopped and tried to hug her.
"I am sorry, dearest, I am sorry, that you have to live with the burden of my past, with the burden of my family's past."
"And yet you wanted him for the exchange. What does that say about the other people at Gringotts?"
"Percy Weasley has his flaws, but he has principles. He adheres to the rules." At least to a certain degree which included knocking after half an hour and enquiring if checking pounds really should take that long.
From the corner of his eye, Draco saw a red folded paper approaching. About time, he thought. He pointed the howler out to Rina. Rina raised her wand and took aim, although that was not necessary, really. Her patronus burst out and the silver ferret shredded the howler apart, before the thing had even finished saying Draco's name. Rina gave a satisfied nod.
She resumed walking. "Thank you, dad."
"What for?"
Rina smiled. "For not lecturing me, saying 'I told you so'. I guess I should have listened to your advice."
Draco shook his head. "I am not sure about that."
Rina looked at him questioningly.
"Look. I don't want you children to suffer for who your parents are, but not knowing might not help you either. People will assume things about you and if you walk blindly into that, that can't be good either." He sighed. "I just don't know much about being a good dad."
Rina looked at him, as if he had suddenly become a troll. "Dad, that is ridiculous. We all know you love us. And we love you. You're a good dad."
His heart lifted. "Still," he said. "It's so bloody complicated. I do not doubt that my father loved me, but he still was a rotten father," he trailed off.
Rina scoffed. "If he had loved you, he would not have disowned you."
"It is not as easy as that."
When they rounded the corner to Ollivander, Draco had found his sense of humour again. "You know, on the other hand, I am reasonably certain, that your grandchildren will be allowed to buy at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."
Rina laughed.
Colin awaited them, with Pansy, not Neville. Pansy had left work early and joined her godson.
The old Ollivander was not in, which was lucky. He had been old even during the war and it was high time he retired. Not seeing his face, was a blessing. Draco had enough of war reminders for a day.
Ollivander's assistant, a young woman, did not take note of him at all, because she was fawning over Pansy, the famous auror. She helped them search for a wand, and Colin settled on cherry tree with occamy plume. The assistant assured them, that the plume had been taken under the law for magical creatures, from a living animal and without cruelty. Pansy let her show them the certificate and shared a smile with Draco.
Because of the certificate and the rare component, the price was 10 galleons. Colin had a very worried look in his eyes, but Draco counted the galleons and made a joke about how it was a pity that the Granger law firm did not get shares. Sometimes Hermione was just not practical enough.
They left to join Neville, Lizzie and Meg at the café where Pansy had left them.
Chapter 15: On the Hogwarts Express (September 1, 1997)
Summary:
Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy have a revealing talk
Notes:
I always wondered about Severus Snape trusting Dumbledore's very shaky and risky plan. It has been my headcanon for ages, that he made other preparations as well.
Chapter Text
Severus Snape's memory (as retrieved September 2002)
The memory started with Severus Snape standing on platform 9 . He went up and down the platform, his robes billowing out, and a scowl on his face. It looked intimidating enough to scare off some of the children or their parents, even if every child was obliged to attend Hogwarts under the new minister.
His intimidating look was enough, that nobody dared to share a compartment with him. Snape settled down with the newest issue of 'The Potionmaster'.
As soon as the train had departed, Death Eaters stopped the train and searched for Undesirable no. 1. Even in the lonely compartment Snape sat in, it was easy to hear Neville Longbottom shouting defiantly that Potter was not here and that they would not get him. Snape shook his head and mumbled: "Gryffindors just don't know when to keep their heads down."
When the death eaters had disapparated, Snape called a fifth year Slytherin and told him to bring Draco Malfoy to him to discuss his duties.
Malfoy entered the compartment a short while after the summons. His face had a closed look to it, which might mean that he was doing his best to occlude his thoughts.
"Take a seat, Draco, we have to discuss some of your duties as an older Slytherin this year," Snape told the young man who stood cross-armed before him.
Malfoy let his arms fall to his sides, although that did not make him seem more relaxed, and sat down.
"Tea, Draco?", Snape asked.
"No, thanks. I've just had pumpkin juice," Malfoy answered, his face still a mask.
Snape began to talk about how Malfoy should be an example of pureblood conduct to the younger students, how he should use the opportunity to refine his skills in the Dark arts, that were now taught almost openly at Hogwarts, what would be in the curriculum this year, and many more things. Just when Malfoy's face changed from wariness to boredom, Snape offered him a chocolate frog.
Malfoy inspected the closed package, thanked his teacher and ate the frog.
The corner of Snape's mouth moved upward, just a tiny bit.
"Draco what did you learn about potions in first year?" he asked when his student had swallowed the frog.
"That potions usually are as potent as spells if you use the right potion. But I don't see what is the point of having me rehearse first year's lessons."
Snape smiled. "Don't you?"
Malfoy's eyes widened in understanding and he blanched.
"Now, tell me everything," Snape ordered him after casting muffliato on the compartment. His smile was openly smug now.
Malfoy fought the pull of the veritasserum. He tried not to babble, and his brows were soon bathed in sweat. He even tried to find a loophole, by telling things that were true, random things, like what he had for breakfast, but in the end, the veritasserum was stronger. Malfoy finally began to stutter, and then words started pouring from his mouth in alarming speed as if they had been pent up too long.
Snape listened in silence, while Malfoy confessed. That he had stopped believing in the Dark Lord and his cause. That he feared for his mother. That he had hidden the truth about Hermione Granger's whereabouts, whom he suspected to be with Potter. That he had faked killing a Muggle family. That his house-elf had helped him.
Snape did not seem surprised. Only when Malfoy mentioned Hermione, he arched an eyebrow, raising his wand at Malfoy, who closed his eyes and tried to ward of the legilimens spell.
"You tampered with your own memory," Snape observed.
"I don't trust my occlumency enough," Malfoy admitted, his voice hushed. "Not after I realised Dumblodore saw right throug me."
For minutes his ragged breath was the only sound in the compartment.
"My mother doesn't know. Nobody does, Professor. I guess I am lucky you are the one who found out. Could you do me a favour and kill me fast?"
He opened his eyes again and stared at Snape as if bracing himself. "Please. And please do not let my mother suffer for my disloyalty."
"You expect me to kill you," Snape said.
"Don't prolong it," Malfoy clenched through gritted teeth. "You were fast enough when you killed Dumbledore."
"What exactly is your plan, Draco?" Snape asked.
"There is no plan. I just do not want to help him. I do not want to kill anyone. I just want this nightmare to stop." He drew a shuddering breath. "I would wish for my mother's safety."
He laid his hand on his forehead and battled his uneven breathing.
"I guess I hope that Harry Potter is really the chosen one and that he can kill him," he finally added.
Malfoy began to laugh, a strange sound that held little humour. "Imagine that. I am hoping that Harry Potter will do exactly the hero things, I always despised. Harry Potter! My hope hangs on Potter developing some brains. That should show you how fucked I am."
Snape joined in on his laughter. It took both a while to catch their breath.
"Maybe I can add to your hope, by confirming that Granger is indeed with Potter, so we know at least that some brains are involved."
After a final bout of laughter Malfoy sobered up. "How do you know?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"You know where Potter and Granger are? And the Weasel, I suppose?" At the mention of Weasley's name Malfoy's face twitched.
Snape nodded.
"And you did not tell the Dark Lord?" Malfoy asked, staring. "You – ", his voice became reduced to a whisper. " – Merlin, you must be such a powerful occlumens."
Snape shrugged. "Welcome to the resistance against the Dark Lord, Draco".
"There is a resistance? Who is in?" Malfoy's eyes were wide.
Snape pointed at himself. "Me, now you, and possibly your house elf, although it didn't have a say in joining, if I understood you correctly."
Malfoy was shaking with bouts of laughter again. It did not really sound like he had fun, though. It sounded as if there were sobs in between.
"I do not apologise for using veritasserum on you. I had to be sure."
Malfoy nodded.
"But why did you kill Dumbledore?", he asked.
Snape arched an eyebrow. "You tell me."
Malfoy swallowed. They were silent for a time and Snape drummed his fingers on his knee.
"Dumbledore knew. It was his plan, but why? So that the Dark Lord would trust you above everyone. So that you could be close to him. Dumbledore planned his own death to protect your cover?"
"That was one of the reasons. There were more, I think. One of them was that he did not want you to kill him. One of them was the fact, that he was dying anyway. When I killed him, he had two weeks left, maybe three."
"His hand!", Malfoy exclaimed. "That was a death curse?"
Snape nodded. "But Dumbledore did not put all his eggs in one basket. I don't think he told me everything about the task he gave Potter."
"What is your plan, Professor?"
"That the Dark Lord finds what he succeeded to avoid for decades."
"His death," Malfoy whispered. "I could get behind that plan."
He bit his lip and thought for a while. "So, the plan is to help Potter although Dumbledore did not let you in on everything."
Snape nodded. His face twitched shortly. "Unfortunately, I depend on Dumbledore's portrait in this, although I do have an inkling."
"I don't understand why he wasn't in Slytherin," Malfoy remarked. "The best way to keep a secret is to tell nobody. That is such a Slytherin approach, isn't it?"
Snape curled his lips into something approaching a smile.
Malfoy's face relaxed a fraction. "It seems I have to follow your lead, then. In a way I am relieved."
He grimaced. "I probably should store away our little talk away. What do I do, if someone else gives me veritasserum?"
Snape shrugged. "The Dark Lord mainly relies on curses and spells. And I doubt anybody could brew veritasserum as strong as I do. Your instinct was right anyway. You told me things that are true."
He tsked. "The sweat gave you away, though, but there is a potion that would help with that. I suggest you take that every time you meet the Dark Lord."
Malfoy winced. "I hope that I won't see him until Christmas."
"Practice until then. Practice. And I would advise you to take extra care, that you hide your feelings for Granger."
Malfoy flushed furiously, but did not deny anything.
Snape shook his head. "I must admit I am curious, but I won't ask."
The young man let out a strained breath.
"Professor," he asked after a while. "Do you have a plan B? I mean, in case Potter won't succeed."
"What do you think?"
Malfoy studied him. "I think you should have one."
Snape pressed his lips together in thought. "I only have a vague idea. Lay aside your wand for a moment, Draco. This won't take long."
He did as he was told, and Snape drew his own wand and pointed it at him.
"Scutum", he said loudly and precisely. A white spark flew out of the tip of his wand. His face became concentrated and it looked like this was a spell that had to be maintained.
"Now, take your wand and try any spell."
Malfoy took his wand and pointed it at the seat behind Snape. Nothing happened.
"What the hell?", he said. He sounded shaken.
Snape still pointed his wand at Malfoy. "Now, give me your wand."
There was a flicker of mistrust in his eyes. Cautiously, he handed over his wand.
Snape continued to hold his own wand and waved his left hand with the other.
"Imperius", he said.
Malfoy scowled. "Hey," he shouted. "I thought we were on the same team."
Then his mouth fell open, when he understood.
Snape dropped his own wand and massaged his right hand, as if the spell had been taxing. He returned the wand.
"Nothing in, nothing out," he explained.
"Not even an unforgivable. Does it block the killing spell?", Malfoy asked.
"I don't know. And I didn't want to risk killing the only person who might be an ally. Unlike yours, my killing curses actually do kill."
Malfoy laughed uneasily.
"I haven't worked out how to tie the spell off, yet. You have to hold it, and that is very exhausting."
"So, if we do not manage to kill the Dark Lord, we just hold him behind a shield that renders him unable to do magic. It wouldn't work without coming up with the right wand movement to tie it off."
"That is the idea."
"Or we could try to find the potion that has the same or a similar effect."
"Exactly. That is there you come in. I am observed by too many people and I don't have the time."
Malfoy grinned. "I prefer this task to the one I had last year."
There was something like affection in Snape's eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You should go back to your classmates, Draco," he told him.
Malfoy nodded and stood up.
Snape's face had become hard again. "Make no mistake, Draco. If it comes down to it, you or the mission, I will not hesitate to kill you. But apart from that, I will try to keep you alive and I will try to ensure that you will not have to kill. Dumbledore did not want you to become a killer after all. I make no promises though."
"I did not expect you to, Professor. In these times promises are not easily kept." Malfoy answered. He shortly tapped on his family ring with his thumb and index finger, and a house elf appeared. Snape winced in surprise and almost shouted at the creature. The elf looked in panic at him.
"Prudy," Malfoy told the elf. "You know Severus Snape. As unlikely as it may sound, you can trust him."
He put his wand at his temple and drew out a thin greyish-white memory. The elf collected it in a vial it produced out of what looked like thin air.
Draco dismissed the elf with a wave of his hand and opened the door of the compartment.
"See you at school, professor."
Excerpt from the protocol of the testimony of Prudy, the house elf (Malfoy trial)
[Witness] Master Draco summoned me with his ring. He told me that Severus Snape could be trusted and put another memory into the vial.