Mister Malfoy

Draco had assured Luna that he could deliver her to the hallway just down from the Ravenclaw dorms. They would have to walk boldly through the Slytherin common room and the dungeon hallways first, though, so he suggested that they do it quickly and with their school robes on, both with green emblems so they would draw less attention. Luna managed the transformation neatly, and cloaking themselves in their school robes for some anonymity, Draco led her through the blessedly quiet common room and out into the corridors.

It wasn't long before they reached an alcove with a rather frightening sculpture of writhing snakes on display. Draco tapped a brick somewhere to the left of it with his wand, and they ducked into the entrance that revealed itself.

True to his word, Draco delivered Luna discreetly just a few yards away and around a corner from her dorm, and after a quick but desperate kiss she slipped back into her dorm unnoticed. Draco found himself alone and dizzy with the events of the previous night. He was burdened heavily with the knowledge that there were far-reaching implications for taking risks and trusting people. In fact, those were the two things he generally avoided; but maybe . . . just maybe, this would all work out. There were only a few thousand things that could go wrong; perhaps they could be prevented. If he were to simply identify them he could...what? What could he do, exactly? Besides keep falling for Luna and trying to stay a half a step ahead of disaster. No pressure.

"Mister Malfoy, approach my desk," the Potions professor hissed. Class had ended, and Draco had started towards the door to freedom and to Luna. Frustrated, he nodded in acknowledgement and complied. He had made it all day so far without incident. This was his last class, and he had thought he was scot-free. Was it possible that Snape had found out something about Luna being in Draco's room last night? He tried to prepare himself for that eventuality.

The key was to think fast and react slowly. For the love of Merlin, he hoped he could. He felt helpless, like a man skiing down a hill that is far beyond his skill level pinning his hopes on what limited experience he has, rumors he's heard about how to face the dangers, guts, and hopefully luck. There isn't an option to slow down; gravity pulls as it will. And Severus Snape was a wizarding force on the same plane as gravity. He was merciless, constant, and unstoppable. Draco also knew him as an esteemed servant of the Dark Lord, which made him all the more ominous and amplified the danger. Beyond being Draco's professor, his Head of House, and his father's friend, Snape was also the highly valued right hand of the terror of the wizarding world. Deep breaths, Draco reminded himself as the remainder of the students filed out. Rather than risking appearing to stall, he initiated the conversation.

"Professor, you wish to speak with me?" He was cool and collected.

Severus scowled at the boy and produced his wand, casting a Muffiliato charm on the empty room and spewing quick words at Draco. "As you know, I am taking you to your father. There is no time to waste."

Draco raised an eyebrow. What kind of test was this?

"Sir?"

"You received an owl post last night, did you not?" the professor inquired coolly.

The post! He hadn't read it. It bore his father's seal, and Draco had little desire to correspond with the man. Besides, he had been delightfully distracted all night by the presence of a little birdie. Snape glided past Draco, his robes blurring his movements so that he appeared to be carried out of the room by the wake that trailed behind him. He carried on without a backward glance to see if Draco followed, snarling in a low voice, "I will not endanger myself for those from whom I cannot expect immediate compliance, Malfoy. My time is valuable."

Draco wordlessly followed Snape down the endless winding corridors of the dungeons until even he was rather lost. The Professor halted abruptly, and turned to face a portrait. He cast an incantation softly, and an opening was revealed. Draco followed Snape through the portrait hole and found the professor waiting for him impatiently. Snape closed the entrance with the same incantation and turned towards the barren stone room.

Draco wanted to ask so many questions, but he maintained the behavior he knew would best serve him, which was silent obedience. He could find out what he needed to know along the way, surreptitiously. He had also learned that by not asking specific questions he left open the opportunity to glean even more knowledge. People could be careless with their words and sometimes revealed more voluntarily than under interrogation.

In a few brisk strides across the room the pair reached a fireplace. Without hesitation, Professor Snape simultaneously grabbed a handful of Floo powder and Draco's elbow and dragged Draco into the fireplace. "Hog's Head," the professor snarled, and then the green flames enveloped them. Within moments, they had been transported and were immediately assaulted with the sour, acrid smell of a pub long in operation. The stench of old smoke clouded the stale air, and the room's few occupants were cloaked and seemed to hunch in the shadows, as though they were trying to become part of the darkness itself.

Draco looked wildly around him, like prey realizing it was caught in a trap. He didn't know whether it was panic or the stench itself that coated his mouth with a sour flavor. Forcing himself to appear calm, he scanned the room. It was dingy, dark, and foul. It made Draco uneasy and a little dizzy. As oppressive suffocation was descending on him, he spotted his father sitting across the room, undisguised and appallingly disheveled.

"Quickly, Lucius," were Snape's only words when they joined Lucius at his table. Draco had been secreted out of the castle to meet his father at a pub? The man looked undone. Lucius sat with a liquor glass clenched in his fist, an uncharacteristic accumulation of blond whiskers on his normally clean-shaven face, his garments askew. His drunken father had sent for him? Kidnapped him from school? Oh, sometimes he hated having a Death Eater father! After all the times he had said "My father will hear about this" and his father had done bugger-all to help him. Now, when he wanted nothing to do with the bloody bastard, Lucius proved that he could have arranged whatever he needed to all along and had not.

"Draco!" As soon as he was seated Lucius bellowed in a sanctimonious voice, which was just slightly slurred, "I was a Seeker, and I led my House to victory. Your failure is unacceptable; must I explain to you how the game is played?" He punctuated his taunt by slamming his glass down on the table. The dressing-down evoked a snicker from at least one of the shapeless cloaks stationed around the room.

Lucius wobbled in his seat and then seemed to tip sideways, leaning in towards Draco, and he began to whisper a torrent of panic. "The Dark Lord is livid. The prophecy, the disaster at the Ministry...there's not much time for me. He will extract punishment. The Malfoy honor must not perish due to my failing." Lucius choked on the word.

His fierce whispering and whatever he had to say was important enough for him to risk himself, his oldest friend Snape, and his son...hell, everything. "What must I do, father?" Draco asked in hushed tones.

"You are the Malfoy heir and now the keeper of the Manor. It dates back to the magic of Merlin, and it has power." Lucius reached for his son's hand and when Draco grasped it, it was damp and clammy. "There are no choices without great price. For your life and your mother's a price is demanded that I have paid for a long time, but now . . . my life is forfeit." Mute, confused, and panicked, Draco felt his hand being handled roughly, and his finger...what was being thrust upon him? "Save our name, and take care of your mother."

"Enough, Lucius; time is short," came Snape's hiss.

Lucius looked at his son appraisingly for a long moment then said, "You are the head of the family now. Now only you have the power to protect what is important to us." Draco's mind was reeling.

His father had been whispering furtively to him, and without breaking eye contact, he abruptly resumed a normal volume and a pronounced slur. "Draco, I expect a good game from you; lead Slytherin to the House Cup this year. I will not tolerate failure."

"Yes, Father," Draco responded, playing along with the ruse, bewildered but scrambling to disguise the fact.

"Do not fail me again, Draco," and with this, Lucius rose unsteadily. "Take him away, then, Severus," he slurred. And under his breath, as clear and sober as could be, he whispered "Thank you" before resuming his act and walking unsteadily towards the loo.

"Come" Snape barked, but just as they reached the fireplace they had entered through Draco heard, "Severus, come have a drink with us!" ring out behind them. Snape froze; with precise and liquid movements he turned and faced a sneering brute Draco did not know.

"Without the slightest regret I must decline. I have responsibilities that will not allow it."

"Come, now. Certainly you won't refuse a drink in the name of the Dark Lord's victory."

"I would toast the Dark Lord, but I would refuse the drink due to my station, and moreover because I would not drink anything you handed me. I have known you too long for that."

The man chuckled darkly at that and nodded. "You are wise enough in that." His eyes narrowed, and he glanced sideways at Draco before returning his gaze to Severus. "I worry for the wisdom of some of your other . . . alliances."

"I hardly think it is within the scope of your reasoning to evaluate my actions, as they seem to be acceptable to the Dark Lord," Snape hissed.

"You always did get riled up too easily. I'm sure you think it important to take the House Cup. It must be trying to lose a children's game to half-bloods and blood traitors. The boy here and his family's money might be what you need to redeem your House. But then again, if he needs instruction from that drunken sot Lucius to take a game, you might find yourself in a predicament."

"Come, Mister Malfoy." Snape bade Draco to precede him into the hearth. Walking between the stranger's cruel grin and the cold gaze of his professor locked on each other, Draco stepped into the cinders of the empty fire grate, and with a sudden crushing grip on his arm and a green flare, he was back in Hogwarts.

Professor Snape brushed the Floo powder from his robes. "Your father persuaded me that he needed to speak to you in person most urgently. He knew he would be followed, so he had no need to disguise himself, but he attempted the guise of drunkenness. He will not return to the Manor, but you must go there as soon as possible to seal yourself to the enchantments, to keep the Unplottable spell intact and to ensure the rights of family ownership are passed to you. Missing the evening meal would raise suspicion, so attend it as usual and eat in the Great Hall as always. Slip away immediately after. Tell no one and do not be seen. Meet me in my classroom. I needn't tell you this ordeal carries a great deal of risk for both of us. I do not appreciate its being thrust upon me nor the timing with which it has arisen, but I am repaying a longstanding debt."

"Sir?"

Snape remained silent but did not quit the room; Draco had to assume he was free to ask at least one thing.

"If my father is correct, why should I or my mother be any safer from the Dark Lord's retribution?"

"Your father just gave you the answer to that question."

"All he gave me was a madman's tirade and his signet ring."

Snape looked at Draco like he was daft. "It appears there is much you do not understand. Pray you learn quickly enough to survive." And with that he strode away.

Draco followed him out of the empty room, which Snape resealed with an incantation. After that, Draco trailed farther and farther behind, stumbling dumbstruck through endless stone corridors. Snape apparently felt no compunctions about keeping track of his pupil now that their distasteful mission had been concluded. Draco tried to force his legs to carry him onward but found himself standing as still as a suit of armor, looking down at the ring on his hand. It had always seemed so big to him. He remembered seeing it on his father's hand when Draco was a child. It seemed to stand out as something larger than life, regal and honorable. It had represented what Draco had hoped to be, a Malfoy man, his father's son. He had so wanted to make his father proud.

But as the years passed, his father had withdrawn from Draco and faded from a youthful, vibrant man to a brittle, heartless, scheming bastard. If the Dark Lord fed from his Death Eaters' life force, it would be no surprise to Draco. His father had aged before his eyes since he had taken up his Dark enterprises again. And he had turned cruel. The ring that had once been a symbol of Draco's proud future was now an anchor tying him to his dark family travesty.

What had happened to turn his father into the unmitigated bastard he had become? Draco hadn't cared before; he had just hated him for it. But now that his father's ring weighed heavy on his finger, Draco had to figure out how to be the head of his family without turning into the shadow of his father. He had to take on this responsibility for his mother's sake, for the sake of their family name and fortune; certainly he would have to face the consequences of his father's tie to the Dark Lord. And he had to do it all without turning into something that Luna would hate the way Draco hated his father.