All Will Be Well

The train station grew smaller and smaller as the Hogwarts Express began its journey back to London. It was grey and raining, dreary and depressed, perfectly mimicking Draco's own feelings about leaving Hogwarts. His fifth year had come to a close with a horrific bang. 

His father, Lucius Malfoy, was in Azkaban. It had been a shock when Draco had found out. He'd received an encoded message from his mother two mornings ago, warning him what he would see in the Daily Prophet when he went down to breakfast that morning. It had been the day after the Umbridge fiasco. Draco still didn't know what to make of that night either. 

The old toad had lost her mind and tried to use the Unforgivables on Potter of all people, in the school. Draco wasn't afraid or naive, but even he knew better than to perform such serious crimes so openly and in front of so many witnesses. He hadn't seen the pink professor since, but he wasn't upset about it. She'd been horrid, and sucking up to her all year had made him live in a constant state of nausea. He hadn't been alone, none of the Slytherins could stand her. At least, none of the more intelligent Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle had loved their taste of power. Still, the rest of them weren't blind to the vicious side of Umbridge, and had done everything in their power to stay off of it. That had meant joining her Inquisitorial Squad and bowing down to her every wish. 

Disgusted with thoughts of Umbridge, Draco's mind returned to his father. Somehow, after escaping Umbridge, Potter had made his way to the Ministry. Draco didn't officially know how or why, but the Prophet was speculating about a prophecy involving Potter and the Dark Lord. His father had been sent to retrieve it, Draco was sure of that much. But his father had failed. The thought made Draco's stomach turn cold and coil in a tight ball of fear and anxiety. 

Draco knew his father was well respected by the Dark Lord, but he didn't accept failure, not even from his closest advisors. Draco knew the Dark Lord was still living in the Malfoy Manor, where he’d been since he moved in last summer, and the thought of going back there without the protection of his father scared him. Of course, he was eager to serve, prove himself, and perhaps make up for his father's mistakes in order to restore honor to the Malfoy name. However, Draco had heard the stories, he'd heard the screams at the end of last summer. He knew it wasn’t going to be simple. 

Beyond all of that, Draco was furious with Potter. Potter had ruined his family. It wouldn't matter when the Dark Lord won, but now, the Malfoy's were openly being seen as criminals. His mother was on house arrest, and Draco himself had received a warning letter from the Ministry to stay out of any dark activities. He was being watched. And Potter was a hero. Draco had already read the words “Chosen One". Like Potter needed another title. His only satisfaction was that apparently Potter had lost his beloved godfather, Sirius Black. Draco hadn't seen Potter since he'd been in Umbridge's office. If he had, he would've hexed him. 

"Draco, it's going to be alright." Draco blinked and turned away from the window. Blaise was sitting across from him, looking on knowingly. Draco nodded tightly. 

Their train compartment was tense. Theo and Blaise were seated across from him, with Millie on their side. Daphne and Pansy were seated next to Draco. Pansy was pressing herself up against him, using his shoulder as a rest. Draco allowed it grudgingly. He enjoyed the attention of course, she was a little heavy though, and he felt like he was going to jump through his skin. 

"Yes Draco," Pansy singsonged in a voice that was supposed to soothe him, instead it made his jaw clench in irritation, "All will be well, he'll be out in no time."

"I don't want to discuss the matter," Draco bit out formally. 

Blaise nodded understandingly as Pansy sighed in frustration. 

"So grumpy." she muttered. 

Draco regretted his choice not to sit with Crabbe and Goyle in the compartment next to them. At least they wouldn't speak to him, and he could ponder in peace. 

"I wonder who's going to take over for Umbridge next year," Daphne wondered aloud. 

"I'm certain Professor Snape will try again," MIllie chipped in. 

"They better give it to him this time, he deserves it," Pansy agreed. 

"I hope they don't," Blaise argued, "He'll be gone by the end of the year if they do."

Good, Draco thought. He didn't trust Snape. Not one bit. Potter had said some coded message to him in Umbridge's office. If Potter felt that he could trust Snape, despite their outwardly hostile relationship, that meant Draco could not trust Snape. In fact, he had vowed to be ultra suspicious of his godfather until he could find out what was going on. He knew Snape was a spy, but spies were supposed to help their side, not get most of them thrown in prison with the dementors. 

"I wonder who's in charge of that now," Millie commented, "I know Dumbledore's back but surely he won't be given all the power back."

"They will," Draco said sourly, "After he saved the day at the Ministry."

"You're right," Theo agreed. Draco didn't mind the Slytherin girls much, but they were a little shallow, and a little... flighty. They never came to the right conclusions about things. Daphne was the smartest, but she was quiet. Pansy and Millie were loud, and quite frankly obnoxious. At least Theo and Blaise had some brains, or Draco would lose his mind. 

After that, they fell into relative silence. Theo and Blaise played cards, and the girls flipped through some magazines. Draco returned to his musings about the coming summer. As the train approached London, Draco's dread grew. When it finally came to a halt at the station, Draco had to fight against his urge to shrink back into his seat and refuse to get off the train. Instead, he stood up promptly and grabbed his trunk. He walked out of the compartment and off the train with his head held high as he searched for his mother. 

He found her, standing with the other pureblood parents. There was a wide empty circle around them, like the rest of the parents and students were too afraid to come near. It almost made him laugh as he approached his mother. 

"Hello Draco," she said warmly, as if nothing was wrong, "It's so good to see you."

She gave him a formal hug, and Draco ignored the way it almost made him lose his tight grip on his emotions. The pair of them bid goodbye to the rest of the families, with promises to visit for dinner and balls over the summer. Draco couldn't ignore the strained atmosphere or the way the adults kept glancing at the stationed aurors that weren't hiding their stares at their group. 

He followed his mother to the floo, and called out the Malfoy Manor. 

He took a breath and braced himself as he glided out of the fireplace. He half expected the Dark Lord to be right there in their entrance hall. He wasn't. It was empty except for the pair of them. Draco shivered as he felt the familiar cold atmosphere. He set his trunk on the ground. A house elf would bring it up to his room. 

"Were there always aurors there Mother?" he asked quietly. 

"No," she said. It required no further explanation.

"Is the Dar-" Draco started to ask. 

"Yes, we've had a few more people move in as well," his mother answered right away, glancing around calmly once. She began to walk down the hall, and Draco followed. "We've adjusted the mealtimes, eight for dinner, and eight for breakfast. You may eat lunch as you wish, wherever you are."

"Formal meals I assume?" Draco checked. Her mother gave a brisk tense nod. It wasn't unusual to host formal meals when they had guests. Normally though, when it had just been the three of them, it had been a little more casual. They would have breakfast often in the sitting room, and when Draco was young he'd been allowed to stay in his pajamas. Those days were long past. Though Draco could admit, he couldn't imagine the Dark Lord lounging around in his pajamas, if he even had them. 

"You should go put your things in your room," his mother said, and then in a low tone, "And stay there until dinner."

Draco raised his eyebrows, but nodded obediently. He trusted his mother completely, and he never questioned her. The same could have been said for his father last week, but everything was different now. He needed to find out what had happened before he decided where his trust with his father was. 

At the end of the hall, he turned left to go up the side staircase. His mother turned towards the formal sitting room. Draco heard a familiar maniacal laugh come from the inside. Aunt Bella. He had mixed feelings for her. She was very protective and very loving towards Draco, but she was insane. She was cruel. And she was scary. 

Draco hurried up the stairs to the wing where his room was. He had his own section. There were guest rooms, his room, a sitting room, and more. He had hardly used most of them once he was old enough to not need a nursery, toy room, tutoring room, and the rest. They had just sat collecting dust since he had started school. 

Draco breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that his room hadn't changed. His trunk was already sitting at the foot of his bed. He could tell his clothes had already been put away in the time that it had taken for him to make the journey through the manor. His school stuff was on his desk and books had been placed back on his bookshelf. The only thing that remained was his shrunken broom, and his wand cleaning kit. 

They had a policy at the manor that the house elves should never be seen. If a family member was going to enter the room, they would stop the task at hand and return to it later. Unless they were receiving instructions or punishment, they were out of sight. 

Draco finished unpacking himself and slid the trunk under his bed. He sat and looked out his big window that looked over the side grounds. The usually magnificent sight looked muted. The sky was dark, covered in angry clouds and the promise of storms. Their famous peacocks were nowhere to be seen. Draco secretly hated them. They'd never liked him. When he was a child, they would chase him across the grounds until he cried and fell, or made it safely to his mother to go inside. 

Draco fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Even his room seemed darker now. Sinister somehow. He lost himself in his thoughts until he decided he should probably shower and change into his formal wear for dinner. He relished in the water that was so much warmer than the showers in the dungeons of Hogwarts. He savored the feeling of the silky soft formal robes that he had no excuse to wear at school. He raised his chin and took a steadying breath before heading out of his room to go down to the dining room. 

When he reached the stairs, his mother was coming out of the wing directly opposite his. It used to be the true guest wing, but once the Dark Lord came to live with them, he had taken the third floor, which normally belonged to the owners of the house. Traditionally, the husband and wife had separate wings, but the Dark Lord had demanded the whole thing. A few precious  Death Eaters got to have rooms in his mother's old wing that he did not have use for. He had forced Draco's mother and father to move into the guest wing, and they hadn't said a word about it. 

They met in the middle, next to the railing that overlooked the entrance hall. 

"Dinner is canceled Draco," She said in an even tone, "Your dinner will be served in your room."

Draco tried to read her tone of voice. He hated how calm and monotone she was now. There was no life in the words that she spoke. Even Draco, who knew her well, struggled to find any hints to her true feelings these days. When she wanted him to know something, she would show it in her eyes. In that moment, her eyes were hard and focussed, which alerted him that something had happened, something that she did not like. 

"Is everything alright Mother?" he asked, careful not to sound too concerned. He also hated how they had to play this game in their own home, in a hallway where they appeared to be alone. It was clear his mother didn't trust it. 

"Oh yes, he and Bella just have made other plans for their evening, and it requires use of the dining room," her mother explained without the slightest inflection in her voice. Draco raised his eyebrows before a horrible screeching scream ripped through the air. Draco jumped and immediately looked for danger. The entrance hall was empty, and the scream seemed to be coming from the direction of the dining room. The scream ended. "As I said, the dining room is occupied."

Draco looked at her with wide eyes. Draco wasn't stupid, he knew of the Death Eater's cruder methods. As far as he had known, they were a necessity, kept quiet, and kept hidden in the dungeons. 

"Why there?" he croaked. 

"It is what they wished," his mother said firmly. 

"This is our home," he whispered in protest. 

"Not anymore," she hissed suddenly and looked around, "And you better not so much as think another thought like that again."

Her ferocity scared him. He nodded shakily. "Yes mother."

Draco looked out over the railing that they were standing near. A figure startled him. There was a girl standing close to the wall near the Grand Entrance doors, sweeping. 

"Mother?" Draco asked, gesturing with his head. 

"Oh yes," she said neutrally, "She will be staying with us. She will work as a maid."

"Who is she?" Draco asked slowly. They didn't have human maids. They had house elves. He looked closer, and realized he recognized the girl. "Oh, that's Yaxley's-" 

"Yes, Yaxley's ward, the squib." his mother cut him off again. 

"Ward... I thought she was his-" 

"Draco, we need to speak carefully, " she whispered. Then she sighed and pulled him down the hall a bit. "She is not his daughter. He had a sister, no one talks about her. She had a child, and died in childbirth." 

"Who was the father?" Draco asked quietly. 

"No one knows, she wasn't married, and it was kept quiet," she whispered. "He agreed to take her in, as he and his wife could never conceive before she was killed in the first war."

"But she was a squib," Draco stated. In his childhood pureblood circles, when they had attended the mandatory balls, they'd noticed her. Some of the older children always whispered that they had seen her until around age three or four, and that she had played with them, until she started showing no signs of magic. Once it was obvious she was a squib, she was kept hidden away. Draco had only spotted her once or twice over the years at the mansion, always in the shadows, head down, and keeping to herself. Draco had never paid her much thought. 

"Well he didn't know that," his mother stated bluntly, "Now, she works as his maid and.. Well..."

Disgust and contempt flickered across her face before she smoothed it. 

"Yaxley is living here now, so she will be as well," she finished. 

"Why hasn't he just... gotten rid of her?" Draco asked. It sounded cold, but pureblood families, especially one as high ranking as the Yaxley's, never kept squibs. They always gave them up to either muggles or another family. 

"His sister made him swear a vow on her deathbed, an Unbreakable one." she explained, "He has no choice. Even the Dark Lord has to accept it. Unless he dies, until she's of age she must stay with him, and he must see to it that her basic needs are met."

"Oh," Draco said lamely. That made more sense. Yaxely was the least paternal figure that he could think of, and he wouldn’t be keeping a girl under his care unless it was forced. 

"Now, enough of this, I suggest you retire for the night, and stay quiet," his mother commanded. Draco nodded, bid her goodnight, and wandered slowly back to his room. His thoughts traveled to his father again. He wondered how he was doing. And what he would think of a squib living in their house.

Just as Draco reached his room, another terrible scream rang through the air. It was quieter, but still horrible enough that he shut the door quickly. Even the heavy door could not block out the noise. From then on, the screams became more consistent. He picked at his dinner that night, and fell into a restless sleep, trying his best to block out the noise. 

She watched the mother and blonde son part ways up above the entrance hall. She ducked her head before Narcissa Malfoy could catch her looking. Her uncle never liked to catch her being nosy, and she wasn't yet sure if this woman would feel the same. 

Her son, Draco, seemed to be around her age, though she wasn't quite sure. It wasn't like she could ask. The only information that she got was from watching. Listening. Waiting. She knew quite a lot actually. People rarely guarded their mouths or their secrets around her. She wasn't sure if it was because they likened her to a house elf, or because she had become so good at blending in that they didn't notice her. 

It also helped that she had to clean her uncle's study routinely. He left his papers with names, dates, numbers, and plans out without care if she read them. She was sure he wouldn't be happy if he knew, so she took great caution to avoid getting caught when she was snooping. She shuddered to think of what would happen if she was caught. Bad enough was her normal treatment. She didn't need to imagine worse. 

She felt eyes on her again, and she risked a peek back up. Narcissa was staring down at her. Slowly, the woman made a gesture with her hand, signaling her to come up. Her heart thudded as she obeyed. She hadn't been addressed by someone other than her uncle or one of his friends in years. She carefully and quickly climbed the stairs. On the way up, there was another scream. She tried not to flinch. 

"Girl," Narcissa said, "You do not need to sweep the entrance hall, or anywhere else for that matter. We have house elves for that."

She kept her eyes down at her feet respectfully. 

"In fact, while you are here, you do not need to do any chores," Narcissa said, "I don't wish to see you clinging to the walls so pathetically."

She didn't flinch at the harsh words, she had heard worse. 

"Look up girl," she commanded. She lifted her head. 

"I know your.... father," Narcissa said and paused, making it clear that she knew the truth about her parents, "Likes to keep you busy. For your sake, stick to the second floor and the fourth. You may work in the garden as well. It will keep you out of the way and keep you busy."

There was something akin to concern in the older woman's eyes. The girl was surprised by her veiled generosity. Narcissa wanted to keep her away from the more populated parts of this manor. The parts that might be filled with the more dangerous kind of people.

"If anyone has an issue with that, you can tell them you are following the orders I gave, as I still am the Lady of this Manor," Narcissa instructed. 

The girl nodded. She did not show her gratitude. She did not know all of this woman's motives. A scream made them pause for a moment. She watched as Narcissa's eyes hardened as she glanced down at the hall. When there was silence again, she returned her attention to the conversation.

"Tell me your name," Narcissa commanded. 

After clearing her throat, she spoke softly, "Amira"

Narcissa nodded. With that, the woman turned around and left. Amira watched as she went, before turning and melting back into the shadows of the house.