The Boy who had no choice
Things were not going great for Draco Malfoy; which was quite the understatement of the year. He was lying in his four-poster bed in the boys dormitory with curtains half- drawn and was lazily playing with a silver snitch- catching and releasing it over and over again. He had received it as a Christmas gift last year from his mother, he had wanted a custom made snitch since he was a little boy of three and had tried mounting a baby broomstick for the first time in the rose garden at the manor. The snitch was goblin made, perhaps one of a kind, with his initials neatly engraved on it- DLM. Draco sighed, little had his mother known that he will not be playing any Quidditch this year. There were a lot of things Draco thought he wouldn’t be doing this year; the main one being attempting to murder the school headmaster for the maniacal Dark Lord.
His friends knew better than to disturb him when he was fidgeting with the snitch, they mentioned they were off to breakfast and made a quick exit. Draco nodded in their direction. He did not feel like doing anything these days, even a simple task as breakfast in the great hall sounded dreadful. Sitting in the great hall, pretending to care, all while seeing the old headmaster at the high table well and alive reminding him of his own imminent failure and death.
The last summer at the Malfoy Manor was one for the nightmares. With his father imprisoned in Azkaban, his mad aunt Bellatrix had sort of permanently moved into their house much to the annoyance of his mother. The Dark Lord called upon the Malfoy manor from time to time, sometimes at a moment's notice. The Dark Lord took all his meetings in their large drawing room, which meant the manor crawled with Death Eaters who attended these gatherings. He had taken the Dark Mark in the presence of his mother and aunt in the same room. The black outline of the skull and serpent was a stark contrast to his unblemished alabaster skin.
He remembered the evening vividly, they were gathered in the drawing room, the curtains drawn till they met, a small fire was smoldering in the fireplace. The room was warm and dark shadows danced on the ornate walls. “Young Malfoy…so eager to prove himself. Do you truly believe you will accomplish what so many others have failed to?” hissed the Dark Lord, who was seated in a wingback chair.
“I will try my best my Lord, I promise you…,” said Draco. His head bowed down; his hands slightly shaking due to the presence of the large snake in the corner of the room. The Dark Lord was stroking the serpent with an eerie fondness which made the young boy nervous. He kept stealing glances at the coiled creature, his grey eyes however did not betray his unease.
“Promises mean nothing. If you fail, you and your family will bear the consequences. If you show weakness, you will face the same fate as your father or perhaps…worse.” with hearing these words, Draco stiffened but he held his posture. Later that night, his mother knocked on his bedroom door, she had the most pitiable expression and she enveloped him in a hug only a mother could conjure. "It will be alright my sweet dragon, we will overcome this as well." she wished him goodnight and kissed his forehead. Draco did not let his mother see his tears, but the silk pillow was wet the next morning.
If he did not succeed in his task, the Dark Lord was going to kill him. He was convinced of it, nothing made him more aware of this than the scared looks Snape threw his way between classes. Snape, yet another eager fanatic trying to meddle in his affairs. He wanted to accept Snape’s help, he truly did, but one thing he knew after spending a summer in the company of Death Eaters was that he should trust no one. He was being punished by the Dark Lord for his father’s failure at the Department of Mysteries while retrieving the prophecy. Only a mad lunatic would give a task of murdering the great Dumbledore to a sixteen-year-old school boy. It was retribution for his father’s failure. He had to see the task through, no matter the odds, to escape the wrath of the Dark Lord.
Draco groaned noisily into his pillow and got up from his bed, he put on his robes and made way to breakfast. It was the last week before the holidays after all, and he could at least enjoy the cinnamon pancakes. The Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts had both been happy places for him growing up, now they were the reasons of his constant nightmares.
*******
Snape spotted Draco at the table pushing bits of pancake around the plate, looking longingly at other Slytherins. He had reached out to the boy to help him, Salazar! he had even taken a vow. The boy was either too proud or too scared to accept his help. He had to try another way out, he cared for him. He decided to speak to the headmaster before the school break, to discuss and weigh Draco’s options. He headed towards the headmaster’s office with urgency.
‘Chocolate Éclair’ said Professor Snape. The stone gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; the wall behind it split into two to reveal a spiral staircase that moved continually upward like a Muggle escalator. Snape stepped on the moving staircase, and reached a large door with a brass knocker shaped like a Griffin. He knocked lightly, and the door creaked open on its own accord.
“Come in Severus” said Dumbledore, “For what do I owe the pleasure of your pleasant company?” Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk, his bespectacled eyes were observing strange silver instruments.
Snape sniffed “I am afraid headmaster this is not a social call. I have come to discuss options for Draco. I have offered him help on multiple occasions, but he refuses to take it. The boy is falling apart, he will endanger other students with his desperation and half baked ideas. We should offer him a way out of his predicament. He should not have to suffer for the bad choices and failures of his parents.”
Dumbledore studied the man in front of him with a quiet look and replied “We can hide him and his mother, but I don’t think the young boy will accept. Sixteen-year-old boys are often blinded by their own optimism. He will not take the help from an old codger like me, his Slytherin suspicion will not allow it. He has to be desperate for it, on his last option, to even consider betraying his family and Voldemort. Pureblood Wizards hardly accept their shortcomings even in the face of death,” After a hesitant thought he added, “Do you think there is a possibility that he will turn as a spy?”
Snape stiffened; he did not want Draco to live the double life he was enduring. “I don’t think so, he hates Potter too much to even consider it.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. “Perhaps he can be motivated by love.” With that he went to staring at a silver instrument on his desk, a steady stream of sand was flowing from its one end to another. Snape took this as his cue to leave the headmaster’s office, he knew he had to approach Draco during the holidays to see if he would either accept his help or Dumbledore’s offer.
*******
The older Slytherins had gathered near Snape’s office, preparing to depart using the floo network. Draco stepped into the emerald flames and intoned ‘Malfoy Manor’ with a drawl. The fireplace in the parlor roared as Draco stepped out from it. He brushed off a few specks of ash from his robes, though it was hardly necessary; his robes, crafted from the finest materials gold could buy, repelled dust as easily as they turned heads
He summoned Mippy, and an elf in a blue pleated dress popped next to the fireplace. Mippy was his mother’s elf which she had inherited from the Black household.
“Tell mother I am home; I will join her for tea after my bath.” Mippy bowed and set to meet her mistress in the Blue Room to inform her of master Draco’s arrival.
Draco’s room was decorated luxuriously, with deep green walls embellished with silver accents. An ornate four poster bed draped in silk sheets and rich fabric dominated the room, with shelves on the side filled with books. His desk was cluttered with quills and Quidditch merchandise of his favorite league team. His bedroom had an ensuite, with a connecting door, which was a matching pair for his future bride.
He tapped the bath with his wand, and a steady stream of water started filling into the large, claw foot tub. He looked in the mirror over the marble countertop and sighed looking at his tired reflection. He slipped out of his robes and eased himself into the steaming bath, closing his eyes as the warmth enveloped him. He hoped for a peaceful holiday with his mother, one free from unwanted interruptions.
Draco made his way from his chambers to the Blue Room through the corridors lined with family portraits. His mother and aunt were already seated in the room. Narcissa was impeccably dressed for someone whose house was hosting the Darkest Wizard in history and whose husband was imprisoned at Azkaban. She was already sipping her tea, while her sister Bellatrix looked bored and was tossing small pieces of a cookie in her mouth. Draco put his Occlumency shields up, fully aware that his aunt could invade his mind at any moment without warning. He steadied his breath, his thoughts organized in neat little boxes.
“Draco, my dear boy. It is so good to see you” said Narcissa. Bellatrix scoffed in the background “Hello little nephew” she crooned in the sweet voice that she used when she tortured traitors in the dungeon. Draco hugged his mother and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, he nodded at his aunt and took a seat at the table closer to his mother. The group engaged in polite conversation, sipping tea and savoring biscuits, their demeanor almost nonchalant despite the turmoil unfolding in the wizarding world.
Narcissa sipped her tea with the elegance of a pureblood witch, her demeanor calm and composed. Bellatrix was a dark contrast to her demure sister, reveling in madness and the thrill of destruction. She leaned closer and almost whispered to her nephew “Do you want to know about our pre-Christmas outing?” Her enthusiasm was frowned upon by Narcissa but she continued “We raided a muggle house in the countryside, and tortured two little muggle cubs who were home alone when their parents were out and about. They squealed like little pigs in the mud.”
Draco could see the wildness in her hair and her slightly stained teeth, which were almost predatory when she narrated this latest escapade. He had to exercise the quiet restraint taught to him by his parents and went back to carefully sipped his own tea without betraying any emotions on his face.
“Severus will be joining us the day after Yule, he needs few ingredients for potions from the greenhouses. He has requested my company but I am in no mood to go out in this weather to collect plants and such things. Would you mind accompanying him Draco?” said Narcissa with a desperate urgency to change the conversation. Bellatrix shot a suspicious look at her sister, and Draco almost felt the cold feeling of leglimency in his mind.
“Of course, mother I will do the needful.” “Has he been helpful to you this year?” asked Bellatrix. “Not more than usual aunt Bella” replied Draco. “You need to be careful around him Draco, I don’t know what the Dark Lord sees in him but he is a slippery little murtlap” warned Bellatrix.
“I will be careful as always” said Draco and took leave to retire to his room. What did Snape want from him now? he wondered. If he dared to pester him again about the task, Draco wouldn’t hesitate to hex his godfather. He might not survive a duel with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but that would still be a far more honorable way to go than at the hands of the Dark Lord he thought.
*******
Snape had arrived through the floo, and Draco was curious how he had known the exact time Bellatrix would leave for the Lestrange Manor. Perhaps his mother and the professor had a line of communication unknown to his aunt. Draco trailed behind him to the greenhouses, knowing that gathering potion ingredients was a tedious and dull affair but he knew better of his godfather’s intention and exercised caution.
The Malfoy greenhouses were almost comparable to the ones at Hogwarts. While not as large, they boasted of rare herbs and magical plants which were a potioneer’s dream. Snape’s sharp gaze scanned the shelves of the dimly lit greenhouse which were stocked with jars and vials of oddly shaped plants and roots. He carefully clipped sprigs of bitterroot and instructed Draco to assist him in gathering the blooms of the hellebore.
While removing dirt from bitterroot, Snape drew his wand with a speed that stumped Draco and yelled “Leglimens”. His shields were up in an instant, but Snape bore into his mind with a brutal pace. Memory after memory, he moved through his mind with the sharpness of a dagger. By the time he was done, Draco was panting on the floor on all his fours, and his head was throbbing with excruciating pain.
“What the actual fuck! Why did you do that?” yelled Draco and drew his wand, but Snape effortlessly sent it flying from his hand with a casual flick of his own with a non-verbal disarming spell.
“Calm down Draco! You did well, I knew your aunt was thorough but I had to test it myself to be sure. Now listen carefully to what I have to say to you, I will not repeat it under any circumstances. I have a message for you from Dumbledore and the Order of Phoenix,” said Snape.
“The Order of Phoenix? Dumbledore? What are you on about?” cried Draco. He knew Dumbledore had a secret organization that worked against the Dark Lord but why they wanted to pass a message to him was beyond his comprehension. And through Snape of all people, what was he on about?
“They have a proposition for you Draco. The Order of Phoenix can offer you protection, for you and your mother if you choose it. Consider it carefully Draco, it will come with strings attached. You should know that favors once given will be collected back at an opportune moment. Especially favors owed by a Malfoy. I am passing this message because I wanted you to know that you have options.”
Draco was stunned, he eyed his professor with suspicion. If Dumbledore offered this, he probably knew about his mission, Merlin, what if he knew about it from the beginning of the school term. Did Snape betray the Dark Lord and share this information with the headmaster? Was Snape a spy? He stepped back a little bit from his professor, slightly unsure.
“I am just the messenger Draco; I am not a spy. Dumbledore thought you should hear this from someone your trust,” said Snape. Draco scoffed. “Trust? I don’t trust you. I don’t trust my own father after what has happened to our family. Did you tell the headmaster about my mission? How do I know this is not a trap? Perhaps you are setting me up, ready to hand me over to the Dark Lord. You want to steal my glory!”
“You are speaking like a child again. You think a wizard like Dumbledore needs me to tell him about the task? You were working on it at Hogwarts, you think he doesn’t know what his students get up to? Don’t speak of this either to your mother and any other friend you think you trust. Let me know when you return to Hogwarts, he awaits your answer” replied Snape.
“What about my father?” blurted Draco. “You said protection for my mother but what about my father. She won’t agree without him.”
Snape was surprised that the young Malfoy was amenable to this plan and had shown however slight an interest in this. He had misjudged his Malfoy pride. Either that or he was struggling with his plan to murder the headmaster and was afraid of failing. Draco was never a brave boy, clever and vengeful but never daring.
“Lucius will not be part of this. He is a known Death Eater and after what he did to Potter and his friends at the Ministry, he garners no sympathy within the Order. Added to that, he is currently imprisoned in Azkaban” replied Snape.
“That is just a matter of time, isn’t it?” taunted Draco. Snape narrowed his eyes, did the boy know something about the Dark Lord’s plan for the prison. If Snape suspected Bellatrix slipping this information to Draco, he did not say.
Snape knew his time was up, he knew Bellatrix would return anytime now, and he had to leave before the witch cornered them. “Take your time and think about it Draco, we shall speak soon.” With that his professor left the greenhouse and walked hurriedly towards the apparition point to the south of the estate.
Draco spent a sleepless night, playing with the silver snitch. The snitch would flutter around his head, and Draco would catch it with deft hands. Draco wanted to succeed in his task, he knew he could. He had a plan but it was taking a little longer that he thought it would. Dumbledore was a great wizard, there was no doubt, and now since the headmaster already knew about his mission, would he still succeed?
Draco weighed his pros and cons, and realized perhaps no matter what choice he made, it would further entrap his family. If he succeeded in his task, it will win him the favor of the Dark Lord, but then what after that? More tasks? He definitely did not want to go on a murder and torture spree. If he decided to take Dumbledore’s offer, what kind of favor would be asked of him? What if he was asked to spy and provide information to the Order? He cannot put his own life and his mother’s life in danger like that.
With thoughts of cabinets and hidden rooms, his eye lids grew heavy with the burden of his choices or lack thereof. As the sun began to sneak back in from between the clouds, Draco managed to fall asleep in his bed. The snitch whizzed near this head but the noise didn’t wake up the tired blond boy.