Allies

Chapter Nineteen – Allies

The wooden floor boards creaked loudly under the fake leather boots as the young man paced back and forth like a caged tiger. Nervously he wrung his hands, his eyes never straying from the closed door. Any minute now he would come face to face with the man who both shaped and ruined his life.

He felt old, so old.

His life was one big mess and, although his body was completely healed, his soul felt bruised and torn. In recent weeks he had tried to come to terms with all that had happened since that fateful summer night at Hogwarts. The revelation his musings had brought was frightening.

He was wrong, had been his entire life. The blame could easily be apportioned to the precocious prejudices he had been spoon-fed since early childhood. It was so easy to think himself superior when he was safe within the walls of the castle, when he had friends who were like him, that thought as he did. It was different when you were suddenly exposed to reality. There, everyone was on their own.

When your own father abandons you to die, you inevitably lose faith in his words. Yes, Draco had believed that his time had come, even relished the thought, for how can you go on with that kind of betrayal?

And now he was here, waiting for the man that had caused him more hurt and grief than anyone else, and he was here to get answers. He had to know about his beloved mother, too weak to oppose her dominating husband and sister. But what to do after that? Should he go and hide?

Possibly.

Draco stopped his circuit abruptly and stared straight at the door. The quiet footsteps on the carpeted floor outside could be anyone's, this was a hotel after all, but the rhythmic thudding of the heavy metal hitting the floor was unmistakable. Only the sound of his father's cane could send such shivers down his spine.

Although he was prepared, he still jumped when the knock finally came. He hesitated a moment before lowering the wards.

"Enter!" He hated the tremor in his voice.

Slowly the door was pushed open to allow the blond man entrance. He looked as impeccable as he had in his prime. Draco felt the gooseflesh rise on his arms – it was almost like seeing a ghost from the past. He remembered well the last time his father had worn these velvet robes: just before his fifth year at Hogwarts, when Umbridge had been invited to dinner in the manor.

He unconsciously took a step back and swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. Seeing the sneer contorting his father's features, Draco tried controlling his breathing before bravely motioning for Lucius to take a seat.

"Aren't you going to offer your father a drink?" Lucius asked with faked politeness.

"No, this isn't a friendly meeting. You are here because I want some questions answered."

"I was quite surprised when I got your message...."

Draco snorted. "I can imagine. After all, you thought I'd bleed to death in that Muggle hospital."

"It was the only choice I–"

"No, it wasn't. But it doesn't matter now. What did you do to Mother?"

Lucius chuckled. It was a nasty sound, and Draco was hard-put not to reach for his wand. "Is this the reason you called me here? Surely you've read the Prophet? The manor was burned to the ground by the Mudblood-loving...."

"NO! It was you. I know it. You couldn't stand that she'd gotten so much more confident during the time you were in prison, that she started thinking for herself. You simply could not tolerate her trying to keep me from becoming like you!"

"Your mother was weak. She'd never been able to make the right decisions."

"Because you wouldn't let her." Draco was angry. Tears were running down his cheeks, but he didn't care. He was right, his father had killed her. He knew it.

"And you are just as useless. I tried pushing you in the right direction, but she spoiled you. I thought my genes were stronger than hers...."

"You killed her!"

"She was a disgrace! She was going to betray the cause!"

Shakily, Draco stood, panting heavily. He couldn't run – not now – not after he knew for sure. He had to fight for his mother, for people like the Weasleys who had taken him in and nursed him back to health, and yes, even for the Muggles who had done their best to save his life, although he had no money, no papers.

His new wand was drawn quickly. He levelled it at Lucius' chest, but his father just smiled.

"You do not have the guts to do it. So much like your mother, she didn't even run."

Slowly, Lucius rose to his feet, drawing his wand with deliberate ease. There was no trace of fear as he stood tall and proud before his son.

"Show me what you have learned then, Son!"

~o~o~o~

Without hesitating, Ron bent down to lift the coin from the pile of ashes. Carefully, he blew the last of the soot from it. The metal felt strangely hot in his hand and gleamed red in the ill-lit room. It was no currency he knew, but judging by the crossed wands on the number side, it was magical money.

"That is a piece of the first independent currency ever used," announced Dumbledore in an astonished voice, motioning for Harry to make space on the couch for his friend. Harry's hand involuntary stretched towards it. Suddenly, Ron gave a shout and let the coin fall to the floor.

"Gods... it burned my palm," he grunted through clenched teeth.

"Let me see that," Dumbledore asked gently. Ron stretched out his hand and flinched as the ghost passed his long fingers over, or more precisely, through his stinging flesh.

"I don't see a mark, it's not even red. Is it still hurting?"

"No, your coldness... I mean the coldness of your hands numbed it, kind of. It tingles a bit," Ron answered, his eyes fixed on his palm. This coin had to be treated with care. It had really hurt, but Dumbledore was right, he could see no evidence of it. Too late he noticed that the coin was no longer where it had fallen.

"I don't feel anything," Harry mumbled. Two sets of eyes watched anxiously as he lovingly stroked the engravings.

"Do you know what exactly it is? Is it foreign?" Harry asked curiously.

Dumbledore floated closer and peered at it from above. "When the two worlds at first separated, wizards used Muggle money. It was much easier. The community was small and magical folk needed to trade with Muggles on a regular basis. Around about the same time Hogwarts was founded, the Ministry decided we needed our own money. Turn it around."

Harry flipped the coin over. There on the other side was a bird in full flight, its wings spread wide.

"Hmm, I wasn't aware that these existed. I've never seen one with an eagle before. But there aren't many of these coins left, so I don't think it meant anything. However, it was somehow inside the award, and to be safe I want Severus to take a look at it."

"No," Harry growled.

"Harry, I thought I explained...," the late Headmaster started carefully.

"Mate...," Ron warned.

"Can you just let me finish," Harry grumbled, frowning at his best friend. "I don't want to disturb him and Hermione just now, okay? I'll show it to him tomorrow. Until then I'll keep it safe since neither of you can touch it."

Dumbledore nodded, convinced of the boy's sincerity. Changing the topic smoothly, he asked the boys if they read the book that he'd recommended.

"'Discovering the Hidden', that was it," Ron groaned. "Makes much more sense. We couldn't remember exactly and so we read something that sounded similar by someone called Grommet. Quite boring that one. Who needs sixty different spells to light a torch?"

Dumbledore laughed heartily. It was an eerie sound coming from a translucent ghost. "Ah, well, I always kept a copy of Hommet in my office, I'm sure Minerva hasn't thrown it out yet."

~o~o~o~

While people at Grimmauld Place were still morosely eating their dinner, the blond man prepared himself for his first meeting with the new spy. It was important that everything should go smoothly. He was fed up with betrayal and the need to hide. He wanted this war to come to an end and for the right people to take over. Maybe he could use the fool's knowledge for his own ends?

Carefully, he brushed his long hair before pulling it back and securing it with a black ribbon. He wanted to look regal and powerful. The idiot who thought himself able to fill Severus' position would immediately know he dealt with a dangerous man. Lucius so loved seeing the fear in the new recruits eyes when they were handed to him for a bit of training.

Cautiously, he lifted his eyes to the mirror, hating to see them red and swollen. It had not been easy to dispose of his last living family member, but it had to be done. Some things, his father had taught him, should never be accepted. Betrayal of one's own family fell firmly, and fatally, into that category.

Lucius took a last look out of the window. The street below was deserted – good. With a last glance at the still form slumped over the old chintz armchair, he grabbed his heavy velvet cloak and slipped out into the night

A/N: A big Thank You goes to Warty for the beta work.