"Have fun for me, you two," Ron said as they were finishing breakfast on the first Hogsmeade weekend.
"Don't know how much fun we'll have with Snape about, and you not," Harry said. "but I'll bring you back some good stuff."
"Thanks, Mate," Ron said and nodded to a subdued Hermione, he asked quietly, "She still in a strop?"
"Dunno, " Harry shrugged. "She hasn't said much this morning."
"Have fun with that," Ron said, standing as Professor McGonagall approached.
"Weasley, tell your friends goodbye. You have a date with some cauldrons," she said, and then to the table in general, "you will comport yourselves as civilised, mannered, and respectful representatives of your school and your House. Is this understood?"
There was the general murmuring of "Yes, Ma'am" as everyone rose to gather in the courtyard. McGonagall nodded at Ron, and they left, collecting Parkinson who was waiting with her cronies in the Entrance Hall. Harry overheard Pansy, who had gained her voice back, snapping angrily at Davis and Greengrass, "I can't believe you're actually going without me!"
Out in the courtyard, Snape was standing with arms crossed and a sour expression, next to a pleasantly smiling, but worn looking Professor Lupin, and a scowling Filch, waiting for the milling students to all gather. When they had, he uncrossed his arms, and called "Silence!" When he had everyone's attention, he continued, "Professor Lupin and myself will be chaperoning this Hogsmeade weekend. You are expected to be on your best behaviour for this privilege, and it is a privilege, or there won't be another. Now, you will form a line, and Mr Filch will check that you have the proper permission. You will then follow Professor Lupin, in an orderly fashion to Hogsmeade. I will be bringing up the rear. Mischief and hijinks will not be tolerated. When we reach Hogsmeade, you will wait at the entrance for further instruction. Prefects, keep your houses in line. Proceed."
Everyone lined up, and Harry, who had no slip, approached Snape, Hermione following.
"Sir, you didn't give me my permission slip."
"You don't need it. I am accompanying you myself," he said, holding his hand out for Hermione's. He glanced at it, handed it back, then recrossed his arms. "Don't look so worried, Potter. I have no intention of dogging your every footstep. Although I will be keeping my eye out for you, I am trusting you to behave and to stay out of trouble. I am sure Miss Granger will aid you in that endeavour. Enjoy yourself, but be aware of your surroundings, and if there is anything suspect or any sign of trouble, raise your wand and cast 'Periculum.' Professor Lupin has assured me you have been properly taught this spell."
"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "I will."
Snape peered at Hermione, who hadn't interrupted once, and said, "Miss Granger, you seem rather quiet. Are you well?"
"Yes, Sir, I'm fine. Just…listening to instructions,' she said, and finally cracked a small smile.
Snape raised a brow briefly, then said, "Very well. I prefer that you stick together, and stay amongst the crowds."
"Understood. Sir," both Harry and Hermione said.
Snape nodded and gestured for them to go. As they were the last to leave, Harry and Hermione hurried to catch up to the rest, Snape, whose ground eating stride ate up the distance, unhurriedly followed behind. When they reached Hogsmeade, Snape once again gained everyone's attention and said, "You will all return to this point by three pm for the return trip to the castle. Third and fourth years may avail yourselves of the Three Broomsticks for lunch or refreshments, but you are not allowed into The Hogshead until fifth year. Any attempt to circumvent this rule will result in a ban from Hogsmeade weekends for the rest of the year. You are free to go."
Harry glanced back at Snape, raising his hand briefly, receiving a nod in response, and he and Hermione followed the others into the high street.
Harry and Hermione wandered about, looking at the various shops, and Hermione pulled Harry into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop where she stocked up on quills, several different kinds of ink, and several scrolls of parchment. Harry bought a couple of self inking quills for himself and Ron, and a couple of self correcting ones for Ron, that automatically corrected misspellings. After that they joined the crowds of students milling about in Honeydukes, where they spied Professor Lupin buying chocolate.
"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked, stopping to chat on his way out.
"This place is amazing!" Harry said in delight.
"Yes, your mother, Lily, thought so too," Lupin smiled, "I recall she would stock up on some of the more exotic sweets to bring home over holidays. She said your grandparents looked forward to what she'd come up with next."
Harry smiled broadly at that, pleased that Lupin shared that nugget of information about his mother. "Thank you, Sir", he murmured.
"Alright then, I'll leave you to discover your own favourites," Lupin said kindly, and took his leave.
"It's nice you have somebody who remembers your parents so fondly, Harry," Hermione commented.
Harry nodded, and proceeded to load up his basket with a huge variety of sweets to share with Ron. Hermione was much more conservative in her selection, choosing things like Tooth Flossing Stringmints, and avoiding anything sticky, like wine gums and the like.
"You're going to make yourself sick and rot your teeth out with all that, Harry!" she said disapprovingly.
"Well then I'll just have to pay a visit to Granger's Dental Office, won't I?" Harry laughed. "Besides, it's not all for me. There's some for Ron too."
She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, and they moved on after chatting with Neville, Seamus, and Dean. Harry spotted Snape watching him from across the brick paved road, but the man only nodded at him.
They spent quite a bit of time in Zonko's Joke Shop perusing the different items, most of which Hermione disapproved of, but that didn't stop Harry from loading up on things he thought he and Ron could have some fun with. After that, Hermione suggested they get some lunch at the Three Broomsticks, then go see the Shrieking Shack.
"What's that?" Harry asked.
"It's supposed to be the most haunted place in Britain," she said, "the villagers avoid it, especially at night, because they say terrible screams can be heard, and even most ghosts are said to avoid it."
"Doesn't sound like your kind of place, Hermione," Harry chuckled.
"Well, no, but I am a bit curious as to what's making the screams if ghosts avoid it," she said.
"Okay," Harry shrugged, "I'm game."
"It's just on the edge of town" Hermione said, "but I'm sure others will be going to see it too, so we should be alright to go."
Harry agreed. There had been no sign of any kind of danger so far, and the village was packed with people. It was unlikely anything would happen, he reasoned, so they set off to The Three Broomsticks for lunch first.
Draco waited outside the castle for Millie. They'd made a tacit agreement the night before that they would be going to Hogsmeade together. He wished that things were more normal, for both of them. Millie's idea of fun was a great deal different from Draco's and he hoped they'd find a middle ground while in Hogsmeade.
Millie was most likely to spend much of her time in Tomes and Scrolls looking for older copies of Martin Miggs or trying to find the some of the new Blend Man comics. She always said that Wizarding Comics were much inferior to the Muggle graphic novels she collected at home. Draco would take her word for it, he wasn't fond of any comics.
He moved along with the crowd of students he was in, when he caught sight of the Weaslette flanked by the Twin Menaces. One of them grabbed her around the neck and scrubbed his fingers over her scalp as the other laughed. She broke loose and shot a fairly strong stinging hex, he could tell by the brightness of the bolt that hit him. He yelped and let go as the other twin high-fived her. Not for the first time, Draco was glad that he had no siblings. It seemed messy.
He finally found a niche he could escape the masses in, and he moved to the side of the group, letting them pass. Millie would hopefully be out soon. He didn't want to spend his free day waiting on her.
Just as he was getting ready to walk on, the Weaslette drew close. She said with a small, rueful smile, "Malfoy."
Draco answered, "Weaslette."
"You know I have a real name." Weasley stopped in front of him, arms akimbo. Her pose drew more than a few concerned looks from several older Slytherins who passed. "Draco."
She exaggerated the pronunciation of his name, drawing his eyes to her lips. For a moment Draco was struck by how pretty she was. She was an earthy kind of pretty, with her red hair and sparkling brown eyes, not necessarily as showy as one would think a ginger's prettiness would be. She laughed, "You look like you swallowed a frog, Malfoy. What's wrong with you today?"
He shook himself out of his analysis. "Don't you know that everything is wrong with me? Ask almost any of my housemates."
"I don't deal in gossip, Malfoy." She laughed, a sparkling noise in the early fall air. "Gryffindor, remember."
"So you are." He couldn't help but smile back at her, not the usual sneering kind he would give normally, but a real one. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you…"
He paused, not knowing how to go on. He and Potter had talked that summer about the book that his father had slipped the Weaslette the year prior. Something about the book being more than just dark spells.
She waited, impatiently tapping her foot as time dragged on. Finally, she asked, "Yes?"
"The book m-my father gave you…" Draco started. The stricken look on her face stopped him for a moment, but he had to know, so he gathered his courage, "The book my father gave you… it wasn't just a book of dark magic, was it?"
She had grown still, her face paling as she shook her head. "No, it wasn't."
"What was it?" Draco blurted. Surely his father hadn't intended harm to a mere child, had he?
The Weaslette merely said, "Look up Tom Riddle, Malfoy, and figure out what it could have been. It was his diary."
With that, the girl rocketed off, leaving Draco with no more information than what he'd begun. Millie ambled up, and they headed towards Hogsmeade.
Once in town, Millie predictably headed straight towards Tomes and Scrolls. Draco followed her, settling in a little reading nook with the latest Jan Hausman novel about his Hit Wizard character. Draco wasn't really a fan, but he thought if he was holding a book, he could escape talking to anyone.
He was glad that Snape had told him he would be visiting his father tomorrow. Now that he knew Father had not just given a spell book to the Weaslette, he could ask him what it was. Her reaction to his question was telling. The girl had obviously been scared by whatever it was the book contained. He wondered if the book had anything to do with the whole scare they'd had with the Chamber of Secrets and the students who had been petrified. Draco had assumed the mention of the Chamber had been someone's bad idea of a joke. There had also been talk about the heir of Slytherin, but Draco discounted that out of hand. There were no more heirs to his line. The last had died with the Gaunt family. Mother had confirmed it when he had asked.
And who was Tom Riddle? As far as Draco knew, there was no Riddle family in Wizarding England. Not even a distaff branch that might have married a mudblood or worse, a muggle. Draco had been coached since birth to recognise the purebloods in the wizarding world. He'd spent hours at his mother's side poring over genealogies when he was younger. He knew that Snape was a halfblood, saved only from ignominy by virtue of his mother's line.
He stood, putting down the book that he held. He was sure the shop had a genealogy section, any good wizarding book shop would. He walked past Millie who had apparently made a find. She clutched the book to her chest, standing in line to purchase it.
He walked past her. "I'll be in the history section. I have to look something up."
She nodded and stepped forward. He made haste to the section as she was almost ready to check out. He scanned the titles, looking for a copy of Wizarding Families of the United Kingdom. He found it, and pulled it off the shelf, opening to the index. Riddle was not a name listed in it. If there was a wizarding family with that name, it would have most definitely been in that book. So, if Riddle wasn't a pureblood, how had Father come to possess his diary? It was unlikely he had associated with him in school. Grandfather had been such a high stickler about blood purity that even Snape had to wait to meet him. It was only after the Dark Lord had recommended Snape through Father, that Abraxas Malfoy had deigned to meet him. It said much about Snape that his grandfather had gone on to pay for his tuition in potions after Hogwarts.
Draco placed the book back on the shelf and went to the front, where Millie had just picked up the sac containing her purchase. "That was fast."
"And not productive." Draco said. "Where to next?"
Millie shot him a puzzled look and then said, "Zonkos and then Scrivenshafts? Or maybe Honeydukes."
As they exited the store, Draco heard his name called. He looked around and saw his aunt, uncle, and cousin walking towards them. When they were close, Uncle Ted pulled out a small purse. "You forgot your money today, Son."
He shoved the leather pouch towards Draco, who was grateful that he didn't have to explain to Millie why he couldn't make purchases, and couldn't sign for them at shops. His family's assets had been frozen by the Ministry. Draco was grateful for the way his uncle had handled giving him some spending money. His uncle smiled at him conspiratorially, whilst Aunt Andromeda looked on regally. Nymphadora said, with a saccharine smile, "Don't you have anything to say to my Dad, Draco?"
He narrowed his eyes at her and said, "Thank you, Sir."
"It's no problem, Draco. Please, you and your friend must meet us at the Three Broomsticks for lunch at noon." Aunt Andromeda said with a warm smile towards Millie. "You are one of Calpurnia and Jennifer's daughters, aren't you?"
Draco got ready to step in, Millie was too used to people looking down on her for her blood status and her unusual family. Too often she'd been the brunt of jokes and barbed comments from people. Her jaw jutting, Millie said, "Yeah, they are. What about them?"
"Oh they are a lovely couple and they speak so highly of all you girls." His aunt continued. "I was commissioned by the Ministry to paint Jennifer's portrait a few years ago for the department she heads. I met both of your mothers at the sitting."
Mollified, Millie said, "Thanks. They are grand, aren't they?"
"Well, we'll catch up at lunch, Miss Bulstrode," his aunt said, "Draco, do be on time."
The three walked on, leaving Millie and Draco to their own devices.
They went to Zonko's, where Draco purchased small gifts for Millie's younger sisters. They went to Dervish and Banges where Millie bought a new set of unbreakable locks for her trunk, and Draco did the same. He was tired of having to hunt for his possessions in the morning. The clerk had said the locks were guaranteed to be tamper proof. Draco certainly hoped so, for the price he paid. It was fortunate they were meeting his family for lunch. His purse was severely lightened after that purchase. Their final stop was Honeydukes. Draco spent much of the rest of his coins there, loading up on all his favourites. He even bought a bag of cockroach clusters for Professor Snape. He knew for a fact the man had a sweet tooth, and that those were his favourite. He'd drop them off at his office when they got back to the castle.
As noon drew close they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. They both entered, standing to the side of the door to see if his family had arrived. He saw his cousin's bubblegum pink hair and motioned Millie along. Once they traversed the crowded room, they joined them. Draco was surprised to see that Professor Lupin had joined them.
"Professor Lupin," Draco blurted, his surprise evident in his voice.
"Hello, Draco, Miss Bulstrode," Lupin said, "I hope you don't mind lunching with your teacher. Your uncle has been kind enough to invite me to join you all."
Draco didn't miss the 'don't be a knob' look his cousin bore into him and said, "Erm..no, no of course not, Sir."
Draco and Millie sat themselves at the table, and Aunt Andromeda properly introduced herself and his cousin to Millie.
"You're a lucky one, Millicent," Nym said, "My DADA teachers weren't half as interesting as yours." This was accompanied with a toothy smile from his cousin directed at Professor Lupin. Draco glared at her across the table while simultaneously trying not to gag. Was she mad? Lupin had to be nearly twice her age!
"He's a right sight better than Quirrel, with his silly turban, or that fop Lockhart," Millie said boldly.
Draco, while accustomed to Millie's bluntness, couldn't believe she'd said that! Had she forgotten his uncle and Lupin were both teachers?
His cousin burst out in embarrassingly loud laughter at Millie's words and exclaimed, "Oh, I like your girlfriend, Draco! Tells it like it is! We're going to get along fine, Millicent."
"She's not my girl..." Draco began, with a tremendous frown at his cousin, but Millie cut him off.
"Millie, please," Millie said.
"You can call me Tonks," his cousin said, "or..Nym". This was directed more towards Lupin, who smiled at her shyly.
Good grief! Draco thought despairingly. He looked at his aunt and uncle in desperation, but they seemed to be rather pleased. Probably thrilled that anyone paid attention to their annoying daughter at all. Draco wanted to leave, although he knew it wasn't an option til lunch was over. He glanced at Millie, who was talking animatedly to his aunt, the traitor, and turned away, looking round the pub for a possible escape. He spotted Potter and Granger at a table over in the corner, and tried to make eye contact with Potter, but he and Granger were waving Longbottom. Finnigan, and Thomas over to their table. Draco sighed. No way did he want the convergence of Gryffindorks joining the madness ensuing at his table, and he wasn't quite desperate enough yet to subject himself to them. At least not yet.
Draco turned back in time to catch Millie saying "...love your hair colour. Really suits you."
Millie! Draco groaned inwardly, knowing what was coming next. He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him, and wondered briefly if it were possible to obliviate oneself.
"Sure?" Nym said, "You don't think this suits me better?" Her hair flared to a violent violet colour. "Or maybe this?" and it morphed to a fiery orange red colour. "Or how about this?" she laughed as her hair turned a bright turquoise. "That's amazing!" Millie said delightedly, "you'll definitely have to teach me that spell!"
"I don't believe it is a spell, is it?" Professor Lupin said quietly, obviously impressed, "you're a Metamorphmagus." There was an oddly pleased tone to his voice that made Draco look at him. He added. "Metamorphmagi are incredibly rare."
"Wow!" Millie said, also impressed, "I've never met a real Metamorphmagus before. I've read about them, but...wow!" She turned and poked Draco's shoulder. "How come you never told me?"
"Are you done showing off?" he said rudely to his cousin, but she only laughed at him.
"It's quite an impressive thing to be, Draco," Lupin said mildly, "as I said, quite rare."
"Well, maybe she'll bark like a dog , or put her pig snout on for you, Sir," Draco said sourly, not caring he was being rude. This whole lunch was acutely embarrassing, and he wished he'd declined.
His cousin shrugged and said, "Scoff all you like, Little Prince. Got me into the Auror Corp, didn't it? I can be anything they want me to be. Anything." This was said pointedly to Lupin, and Draco fought back the urge to lean over and vomit into her lap. At least Lupin had the good sense to look slightly taken aback. Unfortunately, he also looked somewhat flattered as well, to Draco's disgust. Just as he was considering throwing himself on the mercy of Potter and company, lunch finally arrived. He had to endure his cousin and his professor giving each other cow eyes over their meals throughout, but at last it was over and he could escape.
He stood, nudging Millie as he did, said, "Thank you for lunch, Uncle, Aunt, but Millie and I must be going. We promised to meet..." he faltered here a moment, realising Millie was the only friend he had left. He spotted Potter, Granger and their group also preparing to go, took a deep breath and said, "...Potter to...see the rest of the sites. Oh, they're leaving. Excuse us!" and pulled a confused Millie away and out the door with him.
Harry and Hermione waved goodbye to Neville, Dean, and Seamus outside the pub. They'd already been up to the Shack earlier, so were headed to Zonko's now. After they'd walked a bit, Harry noticed Draco and Millicent...Millie, trailing along behind them, deep in an animated discussion it seemed. Millie looked a little put out, and Draco looked annoyed and disgusted. Hermione turned around to see what Harry was looking at, and said, "Is he following us again?"
"They're like, half a street behind us, Hermione" Harry pointed out, "it is a public street"
"It just seems like everytime we turn around lately, there he is," she said grumpily, "him and his guard dog."
"Don't call her that," Harry said, "it wasn't her fault you pulled a cat's hair instead of her hair off her robes." He snickered, remembering Hermione turning herself into a cat.
"That wasn't funny, Harry!" she said defensively.
"What was it like to have a tail?" Harry chortled. She just ignored him after a final glare.
They walked on until they reached the edge of town, where it began to turn back into woods.
"Hermione," he said warily, "maybe…"
"It's just up there, she said, pointing to a small hill up ahead. The grey, weather-beaten Shack nearly blended into the grove of the trees behind it. They walked up to the edge of what would have been the front garden of a normal house, and stood looking at it. It was eerily silent, no terrible screaming to be heard, but Harry still felt uneasy. It certainly looked haunted.
"If ghosts are afraid of it, what haunts it?" Harry asked quietly.
"Probably people's imaginations," Hermione said disdainfully, "it's just an old abandoned house. How disappointing."
Draco and Millie, who had been following the pair, snuck up behind both Potter and Granger. With an exchanged look, they took positions behind the pair and jumped forward, both grabbing the Gryffindors' shoulders and giving a loud shriek in their ears.
Granger jumped and then fell landing painfully on her arse in the leaf litter on the path as Millie made her move. Potter jumped also, but his next move was to duck and throw a wild punch that caught Draco just above his family jewels. It was close enough, however, to drop Draco to his knees, gasping for air.
Millie held her hand out for Granger, "Sorry, Malfoy here thought it would be funny to mess about with you two."
Granger merely glared at her extended hand as she scrambled to her feet. Millie's expression hardened. Granger walked a little way up the path, exposing her dirt covered derriere. If Draco'd had any wind left in him after that punch, he would have laughed. Millie rolled her eyes and went after Granger.
Potter helped Draco to his feet. Draco exclaimed, "You hit me!"
"Yeah, sorry. Knee jerk reaction, Jerk," Harry said, pulling the other boy to his feet. He glanced over at Hermione, who was brushing dirt and leaves from her bottom while frowning at Millie.
"You missed some." Millie said unhelpfully as Granger glared at her, still dusting her bottom with her hand. "Just stop, you're smearing it."
Millie shook her wand out of her sleeve and cast Tergeo,making
quick work of the cleaning. Granger looked at Millie sheepishly, Muggleborns always forgot about magic. Millie said, "One of my mums is a Muggleborn. She always forgets too."
"Ron always asks 'Are you a witch or not?''" Hermione offered quietly. "Your mum is Muggleborn? And you're in Slytherin?"
"Yeah, it can be rough sometimes, no matter what house you're in, especially if you don't come from a more… traditional family." Millie offered. "Listen, Granger, I think maybe we need to start over. I don't look down on you because of your stupid blood."
Granger gave Millie a small smile. "You don't?"
Millie answered, "Nah, I look down on you for your horrible hair."
She waited a few seconds to see what Granger did.
It took a moment for Hermione to realise the other girl was joking.
'Well...I...my..." she faltered, embarrassed. That sort of joking banter had never come easy to her like it seemed to to everyone else. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she admitted, "I know you're joking, but...I've never been very good at that. I agree though, we should start over...Millicent."
"It's Millie," Bulstrode said, and with a quirk of her eyebrow, she added, "Hermione."
Draco and Harry watched with more than a bit of shock as the two girls came to an understanding of sorts. Draco could feel Harry's eye on him, measuring and serious. Draco said, "I am going to see my father tomorrow."
Potter said nothing, and Draco continued, "I asked the Weaslette about that book he gave her. She said it was a diary of some bloke named Riddle. I think you know more than what you're saying."
"I may." The Gryffindor answered, turning his face away from Draco.
"For the record, I don't think my father was actively trying to hurt her." Draco fervently hoped that was true. Father wasn't a monster, just… acting in his family's self-interest most times. Draco couldn't imagine a scenario where he would actually seek to harm an innocent, not even as a Death Eater. He had to believe that or his perceptions of what both his parents were would crumble. "If anyone ever asks though, I will deny this conversation ever happened, Potter."
Harry turned back to face Draco, his insides a roil of emotions and things he wanted to say. As he searched for the words, he could see in Draco's face that what he'd said was true. He really didn't think his father had meant actual harm to Ginny, and, like Draco, he desperately wanted to believe that. Otherwise, what kind of monster had raised Draco, and, given some of the things Draco had said to him, how deep did his influence go in Draco? Harry wanted to believe that at heart, Draco was a good person. Harry wanted to believe this about everybody, but for some reason, particularly about Draco. Harry wanted to tell Draco the truth about the diary and the evil it had spewed forth in the Chamber, about what the diary had done to Ginny, and he wanted Draco to be properly horrified about it. To question every one of the pureblood ideals his father had filled his head with. He also felt, however, that it would be a betrayal to Ginny to tell Draco without her at least being present for it. It was that more than anything that made Harry finally just say, "More than you know did happen with that diary, but...it's not just my story to tell."
Draco acknowledged Potter's stance with a small nod as Hermione and Millie both seemed to tense. Draco looked past the girls and saw the Grim.
It seemed even bigger than the last time they saw it. Its rough coat was duller than last time, it seemed dirtier. The dog was crouched, as if to pounce if one of them made the wrong move. A low growl sounded in its throat, even though its tail was wagging in a low, submissive arc. Millie stepped back, nearly falling as she stepped on a small stone in the pathway. Hermione steadied her, "It's alright, Millie. He's as scared of us as we are of him."
Millie looked around for the boys, eyes wide. Draco stepped forward, slowly as did Harry. "Come on Granger, let's leave the nice Grim alone."
"Don't be silly, Malfoy" Hermione said, "Grims aren't real."
"Alright, Barghest," Draco said, "just back away slowly."
"It isn't a Barghest either," Hermione protested, "those things, Grims and Barghest and all those things, they don't exist, they aren't real. They're folklore, just like this shack. It's just an old abandoned house, and that's just an old, abandoned dog."
"We didn't think ghosts were real til we came to Hogwarts, Hermione," Harry pointed out quietly, not taking his eyes from the huge beast that was still growling low in its throat.
"If it's a Grim, are we all about to die?" Hermione scoffed, "it's just a dog. Probably starving, poor thing."
"We're not feeding it, Granger," Draco said, "it's been hanging about enough already..."
"What do you mean, 'hanging about'?" Millie asked.
"We've seen it before," Harry told her, "over the summer, near the Quidditch pitch, Draco saw it near the Forbidden Forest, and we and Ron saw it again just this past week, on the way to Hagrid's class."
"Didn't you say Trelawny said something about a Grim too?" Draco asked.
"Trelawny? The Divination teacher?" Hermione laughed, "that batty old fraud? I Don't believe anything Trelawny says, Harry. Professor McGonagall says she's always making baseless predictions. It's just a dog."
As if to confirm the Grim theory, the dog let out bark. Hermione, in her surprise at the sudden noise, stumbled back, landing on her arse for the second time that day. The dog seemed to give a lopsided, tongue-lolling smile before it turned and ran into the margins of the dense clump of trees that bordered the path.
Draco laughed first, joined by a quickly recovering Milie, and then Potter. Malfoy was surprised when Granger's high-pitched giggle joined the merriment.
Draco sat at his house table watching the other early riser students wander into the Great Hall for breakfast. He had had a restless night, rising early after tossing and turning endlessly, and had been the first to arrive in the hall, before the elves even, apparently. Breakfast had yet to appear. As more people arrived, juice, racks of toast, pitchers of milk, and a variety of cereals began appearing, with large plates of eggs, sausages, and bacon soon following. It smelled good, and he was somewhat hungry, but his stomach was also rolling with nerves. Snape was taking him to visit Father today, and Draco was a mass of conflicted feelings and emotions over it. He spied Potter entering with Granger and Weasley. They all looked over at him with expressions of sympathy. Potter had obviously told them where Draco was going today. A tiny part of him was a bit irked at that. While not exactly a secret, Draco hadn't told Potter expecting him to blab to his friends. Still, it was a bit heartening to know somebody other than Millie felt anything but loathing for him. Weasley especially, given what Potter had said about the diary doing more than Draco knew. Draco wasn't so sure that, had he been in the Weasel's shoes, he'd have been as magnanimous.
Draco's musing was interrupted by Millie clambering into her seat across from him.
"All right?" she asked, peering at him closely.
"As well as can be, I expect," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. She wasn't fooled for a second, of course. Millie knew him too well. She dug in the pocket of the hoodie she was wearing , and slapped down two thick bars of Honeydukes' chocolate in front of his plate.
"Never fear, your best friend is here," she said, nodding at the chocolate, "you'll need that, and I know you didn't buy any at Honeydukes yesterday. Take it. There's dementors at Azkaban, and even if you don't see them, you'll feel them."
"Thanks, Millie," he murmured gratefully.
"You need to eat something to keep your strength up," she said, loading a plate with eggs, sausage, toast and bacon."Protein is good for you. Even just a few bites."
"Yes, Mother," he said, rolling his eyes. He nibbled at a sausage to keep her from nagging, and changed the subject. "What are you going to do today? Still going to Hogsmeade?"
She shrugged and said between bites of her own breakfast, "I might do. Maybe follow Potter and Granger around for shits and giggles. May stay behind and watch Parkinson and Weasley polish trophies and toss dungbombs at her. Might do some homework. Haven't decided yet."
He laughed, so did she, and they spent the rest of breakfast entertaining themselves thinking up ways she could torture Pansy and her big mouth. All too soon, the dark shadow of Snape glided up, standing behind Millie, telling Draco it was time to go.
They made their way to Hogsmeade station, where the train sat populated by a few people taking leisurely Sunday trips before the week started in earnest. Snape turned to Draco and said, "We will be taking the train to John O'Groats, which has no magical community, and therefore no safe or legal apparition points. We will dine there and then we will take a ferry to Kirkwall in Orkney. Once there we will take a Ministry ferry to Azkaban Prison. You will be on your best behaviour and will follow my directions to the letter. Do you understand me, Mr Malfoy?"
"Yes, Sir." Draco answered dully.
Snape stepped towards the train's entrance. Steam billowed around him, giving him a ghostly appearance. "I do hope you brought something to entertain yourself. Today's journey will be tiresome without something to stimulate your mind."
"I did, Sir." Draco answered. He had checked out several books on his essay subject for DADA. He had first chosen werewolves, but ended up finding some interesting things about vampires, strangely in the Muggle Lore section. He hadn't realised that there was any knowledge of those creatures in that backwards world. He patted his robe pockets where the three shrunken books were stashed and followed Snape.
They entered the train and Snape chose the first car they came to. He sat nearest the window, his long legs stretched out before him. He immediately retrieved a potions journal written in what appeared to be Swedish, and began reading. Draco took his seat on the opposite side nearest the door and pulled out one of his books. He tapped it with his wand, and the book enlarged. He then pulled out parchment and the Biro his uncle had forced on his class. Draco hated to admit it, but it was a great Muggle invention, much easier to use than a quill.
He began reading, taking notes female the book on the Muggle version of vampires, both alarmed and titillated by their notions of vampires as sexually aggressive beings that featured heavily in literature for women. Muggles were strange.
They rode for around four hours, the Express going straight from Hogsmeade to the Wick station near John O'Groats. From there they took a car, arriving in John O'Groats just in time for a quick lunch. Snape was silent, doing nothing to ease Draco's sudden nervousness about his meeting with his father.
His aunt had given him more coins for the trip, and after pushing his food around for the time they had in the small cafe in the desolate area, he attempted to pay. Snape merely took the bill from him and paid for both without saying a thing. They made their way to the ferry, and were just in time to board, it left almost as soon as they got on.
Snape paced the upper decks, his usual robes transfigured into a Muggle style woollen coat. Draco remained below, his own robes close enough to a Muggle style to not need any adjustments. He attempted to continue his research, but soon found himself nodding, his lolling head waking him with a start before his eyes once more closed.
He awoke to Snape's hand on his shoulder. The man's expression, as unreadable as it usually was, betrayed the strain of the day with the harsh lines beside his mouth deepening as he looked down. "We had a small delay. We must make haste or we will miss the next ferry."
Draco gathered his things quickly and followed Snape. They just made it to the dock before the launch. Snape drew his wand, telling Draco, "Get out your wand. You will need to register it before we can board."
It was much the same as he had done at the Ministry to see his mother, but it still bothered Draco to allow a stranger to handle his wand. It seemed invasive. Once they passed the checkpoint, Draco attempted to relax. It would not do for him to show any weakness to his father. He knew Father despised the expression of maudlin emotions or fear, both of which Draco's mind seemed to be cycling through since he had found out about this meeting.
He followed Snape to a drab set of fixed seats in the middle of the ferry and sat, attempting to clear his mind of the turmoil he felt.
Soon he would see his father. Soon he would be able to ask him questions to which he needed answers.
As the ferry neared their destination, Draco could see the looming grey hulk of the prison through the mist, and swallowed hard. Suddenly, he wanted to go home, more than he ever had, back to the familiar comfort of Mother's afternoon tea, the warm fire and cosiness of the library, chatting while they waited for Father to arrive. He wanted that so badly, and screwed his eyes shut at the hot prickling of tears that threatened, clenching his fingers together tightly in his lap. A nudge at his arm made him swallow his tears and open his eyes.
"You are feeling the effects of the many dementors that guard this place," Snape said tersely, shoving a bar of chocolate at him, "eat this. It will tide you over until we are inside and under the protective charms cast over the visitor areas."
"Wh-what about you, Sir?" Draco asked, "I do have some of my own."
"Do not worry about me," Snape said grimly, "now, listen carefully. When the ferry docks, we will be escorted to the visitors entrance. Inside, we will surrender our wands for the duration. We will be searched for contraband. At no time are you to protest, or your visit will be denied. Once you are escorted to the visiting area, you will be allowed to see and speak to your father, but you must remain seated at all times, and there is no touching whatsoever allowed, not even a handshake. Your father will be heavily chained, in a prison uniform, unlike you have ever seen him, but you must remain composed, with your emotions under control. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Sir, but...you'll be..." Draco began, but his professor cut him off.
"I will accompany you to just outside the visitor area, where I will be waiting for you when you are finished," Snape said, "prisoners are allowed only one visitor per visit."
Draco was oddly touched that the man had given up his only day off this week to escort him here. For some reason, it brought the tears prickling behind his eyes again, and he hastily forced them back, murmuring, "Thank you for bringing me, Sir."
Snape nodded curtly, and was silent the rest of the way.
When they disembarked the ferry, the massive stone fortress towering above them, Draco drew his cloak tighter around himself against the icy wind and frigid spray of the sea hitting the rocks. He'd never seen a more cold and desolate place in his life, and was instantly chilled to the bone. He tried to wrestle his roiling emotions under control, and followed Snape and the impassive guard up to an iron door set in the stone of the building. Inside, it was warmer, without the wind and sea spray, but only slightly. He did, however, feel a bit less morose, due to the protective charms, he supposed. They followed the procedure Snape had laid out to him, and while he felt slightly violated with handing over his wand and the Probity Probe used to search them, he managed to keep his composure, even when he was commanded to open his mouth to show it was empty. Too soon it seemed, they were at the door where his grimly stoic companion would leave him. Snape, standing cross-armed and imposing, nodded to him as he followed the guard through the door that would take him to his father.
Lucius was a wreck. He had been allowed to 'bathe,' if one could call it that, the day before. It had been a cold wash in sea water and soap that was more lye than anything else. It made his skin burn, his eyes sting, and left him feeling raw. His hair was a mass of tangles, cottony and slightly gummy from the residues of the soap. His prison togs were…upsetting. They were composed of rough, muslin ticking, striped and slightly damp after he had hastily tried to wash them. They were wrinkled, and taking on a mildew smell that would remain until he could attempt another wash.
Lucius hated everything about this experience. He hadn't wanted to see his son, but the Ministry insisted. He dreaded seeing the scorn or pity in his son's expression. He could not bear the shame of what had happened to his family.
A scornful little voice that sounded vaguely like Severus, said, "You mean, what you did to your family."
The damned dementors wouldn't let Lucius alone. Yes, whilst he awaited trial, he was in a protected level of the prison, but no amount of shielding could protect a wizard completely. He spent much of his time battling despair, hoping that Narcissa was safe from this hellscape.
The guards came, two brutish thugs with more muscle than brain, opened the door to his cell, "Hold out your hands, Prisoner."
Lucius complied, hating the contracture of the binding spells he was already under. The rusty chains slid over his wrists, around his belly, through his legs, and around his feet. A four point connection that he knew would damn near unman him with every step.
They escorted him roughly with the tips of their ever-present cudgels, to a room,dominated by a grey rectangular table with chairs on either side of a rough-hewn table. Only one side had U-hooks, anchors that would bind him further. The wall across from that seat shimmered with spells, no doubt for spying, and a raw ball of harsh, blue light was suspended over the table.
Lucius sat before the guards could force him to. He'd made the mistake of non-compliance when his solicitor had visited. He would not do that again. They'd broken one of his teeth and he'd had a concussion induced headache for a week.
He tensed as the magical chains of the room tightened around his legs, his hands, his chest. For a moment he thought they might continue to constrict, slowly squeezing him to death whilst his son waited. When their silver rustling stopped, Lucius felt he could take a breath again. He did until the guards positioned themselves at the door they had all entered.
The door to the outside swung open, and there was his son. He seemed as small and fragile as he had when Lucius had first held him, the night he was born. The night that had changed Lucius' life forever.
He closed his eyes against the sudden stinging of tears. He would not cry. He would not show weakness. He would not…
He finally, after a hard fought battle, croaked out, "Dragon."
"Father," Draco said faintly, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Snape had told him his father would be heavily chained, but the reality, trussed up like an animal, momentarily made his resolve falter. The wild mess of his hair, and unshaven face unnerved him. He'd never seen his father in such a state before, and wildly wondered what Mother would think. He shook that thought away, and licked his dry lips, searching for something to say.
"A-are you..." he began, then stopped at his own foolishness. No, the man was decidedly not well. Obviously.
"I- I've been to see Mother," he offered up hopefully, "she...is at the Ministry...still."
"Yes, I've been told they are treating her well." Lucius answered, attempting his normal conversational tone, sickened that it sounded… off. "Your studies, how are they going?"
"They're going well," Draco said, bucking up. Here was a perfect opportunity to lead into one of the many questions he had. "I'm taking all the usual, plus Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies. The professor is Ted Tonks, your brother-in-law, who, along with Aunt Andromeda, are also my guardians." This was said with a heady sense of bravado, fueled by the anger he felt creeping in at being put in this situation in the first place. "Why didn't you tell me you had also taken Muggle Studies, Father?"
Lucius paused, wanting to explain how hard it had been, living in his father's shadow. How he'd taken any chance to rebel against his father's iron fist with no velvet glove. How he had fleetingly considered not following his father's welcoming embrace if it meant joining what was then the Knights of Walpurgis, but had become so much worse... He considered speaking all these truths, but couldn't form the words in his mouth. Finally he said, "It was a foolish little rebellion. I learnt my lesson after that."
And he had at the end of a belt, at the tip of a wand raised to cruelly hex and curse. Gorge rose in his throat and he looked down at his hands, at the coarse wood grain in the table, at anything but his son. He could not bear to give him the truth of his own failures, his own weaknesses. Not here.
Probably not ever.
Draco stared at his father, annoyed. That was not the answer he had hoped for, and his anger welled inside him, making him want to...he didn't know...hurt his father for , for everything. His words, his actions, the lies, the evasiveness, Draco's own confusion.
"He's a Mudblood, Father, but I've discovered that not all Muggleborns are bad, did you know? He's good to me, treats me well, and is fair. Answers my questions when I have them, and he's teaching me that magic isn't the answer to everything. You'll never believe who else is teaching me that, Father. Potter. And Granger. Weasley too, even though he's a Pureblood. Right this minute, he's back at the castle polishing trophies without magic. Know why? Because he, the blood traitor, cursed that slag Parkinson in defence of me because of the filthy things she said about Mother. Isn't that a kick, Father? Don't you just love it? Even after what you did to his sister with that diary."
"What diary? W-what are you talking about, Draco?" Lucius would deny with his dying breath that he had given that child a book of dark magic, especially because it ultimately landed him here, in this situation where his son was being exposed to dangerous ideas and making spurious conclusions.
He jerked forward and the chains began contracting around his chest, cutting off his breath, choking him…or was it the lies he told to himself and his son that was doing that… "What. Diary. Draco Lucius Malfoy?"
"The book you gave Ginny Weasley last year, Father. It was a diary of some sort. And it did something to her. Potter knows, but all he'll say is that it wasn't just a book, and it did more than I know. So I asked her. She's been friendly to me, sat with me on the train when nobody else except Millicent Bulstrode would. You see, Father, my Pureblood housemates want nothing to do with me, but little Ginny Weasley, the blood traitor Gryffindor, doesn't mind tainting herself with my presence, even after whatever horrible thing you did to her with that book. And it must have been horrible, because she was obviously terrified when I asked. Who exactly is Tom Riddle? Because that's all she would tell me. 'Look up Tom Riddle'. Why don't you save me the trouble, Father?" Draco hissed viciously.
Tom Riddle.
It was the name of a ghost, the name of someone who had changed his entire being to become much more, a terrible name from his childhood used to scare him into submission by Lucius' own cold and evil father. It was a name spoken even less than the one his master had ended up using.
How could that tiny girl,still with her childishly round face, and coltish limbs, how could she know the name of Lucius' nightmares? Uncle Tom, the spectre in the closet, under the beds, who crept into his home and stole Lucius' happy family… twice now, it seemed. He heard a high-pitched whine rend the air around him…Tom who had stolen so much of Lucius' childhood, who had taken his youth and given him pain, servitude, and anger…
He vaguely heard, above the keening sound that suddenly filled the room, his son screaming. He felt the chains release and the guards haul him away. He felt the foetid air of the prison wash his skin, and then he felt nothing more.
A shaken Draco was led out of the visiting area by a grim-faced guard. The man motioned him over, and Snape was immediately at the boy's side.
"Are you alright? What happened? I heard screaming," he said with terse concern.
Draco took a moment to compose himself. His father's reaction to his question hadn't been at all what he'd expected, and it frightened him badly.
"I...I asked...I asked Father who...who Tom Riddle was, and he just...he just.." Draco's helpless babbling stopped at the expression on Snape's face. The man had gone still and even more pale than he usually was.
"Let us go now, Draco," he said, "this is not a discussion to be had here."
"Sir, " Draco began, but Snape cut him off.
"Let us go," he said repressively, and Draco had no choice but to follow him back to where their wands were returned to them and they were escorted to the dock where the ferry awaited. Once they had boarded and found seats, Snape cast a Muffliato charm and turned to him.
"Where did you hear the name Tom Riddle? How do you know that name?" Snape asked, his pale face drawn and grim.
"From Ginny Weasley," Draco said, "Sir.." but once again, Snape talked over him.
"Tell me why she told you that name. In what context? What did she say?" Snape asked.
"Nothing! I asked her what happened with that book, that diary, Father slipped into her cauldron last year, and she just said 'Look up Tom Riddle.' That's all! And when I asked Father who he was, he just...began keening as if he had gone mad! He frightened me, he looked insane, and I...I screamed. The guards immediately hauled him away, and...what...what's going on, Sir? Who is Tom Riddle that everyone is terrified?"
Snape appeared to be considering whether to answer or not, and Draco's frustration and confusion grew.
"You're not going to tell me, are you?" he said, "just like Father, evasive about any question."
"Tom Riddle was the Dark Lord's true name," Snape said abruptly, "what that has to do with Ginny Weasley, I cannot say, I do not know from where she came upon the name, nor do I know what it has to do with the book she was given."
"Riddle and Vol...He Who Must Not Be Named are the same?" Draco asked, more confused than ever. "But...he's dead. Potter defeated him when he was a baby after he killed his parents. Everybody knows that, that's why Potter is The Boy Who Lived. He's dead."
"So he is," Snape said thoughtfully, "do not concern yourself further, Draco. I suspect Miss Weasley still hasn't fully recovered from the events of last school year, and knows not of which she spoke. You said you brought chocolate. Have some now and calm yourself. We will have our dinner at the inn we had luncheon, and return to the castle."
"Yes, Sir," Draco sighed, knowing he would get no further answers and only succeed in raising Snape's ire if he pressed the issue. He suspected Snape knew more than he was saying. Bloody adults and their bloody mindedness!
The rest of the journey was uneventful, as was dinner, and Snape, after forcing him to swallow a Calming Draught and a Dreamless Sleep potion, delivered him to his aunt and uncle's quarters rather than his dorm, insisting he sleep there for the night. Draco was now too tired to protest, and trudged off to his room to fall into sleep.