Chapter 2
Draco has been sitting on the stairs in the Manor for at least half an hour. It was almost midnight by now. Aunt Bella was there for a visit, and he had hoped to overhear something useful.
He should have been raised better than to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. His mother’s soothing words did nothing to ease his worries about her and their future.
His mother and aunt chatted quietly, and Draco understood next to nothing, but he couldn’t bring himself to move closer.
Absently, he rubbed his left arm. It has been burning constantly. Sometimes he thought he could feel the snake in the skull moving on his arm at times.
He’d tried to ignore it for the last couple of days but it didn’t seem to get better. It was also very distracting when he wanted to gain information secretly.
His mother refused to give him something to relieve the pain because she said it hadn’t worked for his father either.
So, he was forced to just bear it. In his mind, he cursed Voldemort for doing this to him, for ruining the Malfoy’s reputation, for driving their family apart. He caught himself though. Such thoughts were dangerous. He would be in big fat trouble if someone decided to invade his mind, be it Aunt Bella or the Dark Lord himself. If he thought such things freely when he was alone, those thoughts would also come when it was the most unfitting. And then, who knows, he might die a cruel death for daring to question the Dark Lord. Draco could only hope that he’d be of enough use for the Dark Lord to have his life spared.
After all, killing Dumbledore is not an easy task.
As if it wasn’t enough to become a Death Eater, the Dark Lord had thought of something special. In retrospect, it should have been obvious. The Dark Lord always had the upper hand somehow, always had something up his sleeve. It was wearing him down.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus.
The quiet conversation his mother and aunt were having was developing to a full out argument. About him.
Nobody could help him, but his mother was adamant. Always discussing ideas to prevent Draco from having to kill Dumbledore.
Draco was deeply grateful she didn’t want his son to be a murderer but was conflicted anyways. His mother chose her sister to confide in, Aunt Bella, who was the most loyal (and most crazy) follower of the Dark Lord Draco knew. If she decided to speak up, they would be done for. He would probably be tortured with no end in sight. After all, his task was supposed to be a punishment for the House of Malfoy. Or at least he believed that. Why else would the Dark Lord tell Draco to kill Dumbledore when Severus could easily do it? Draco was good for nothing, let alone killing someone. He didn’t have the skill nor the courage.
When he finally made up his mind to move closer to the end of the stairs, he could finally make out their words.
It was a relief, yet he still felt like a horrible son, listening in on his mother’s private conversation.
“We should ask Severus,” his mother said harshly. “He would help. He is Draco’s godfather after all. And he works at Hogwarts. Bella, I’m not going to step aside and let him handle it. Nothing you say can change my mind.”
“Oh Calm down, Cissy. I was merely stating that, while Draco is an intelligent young man, he is not yet capable of murder-“
“And that is a blessing, Bella!” his mother interrupted.
Draco imagined Aunt Bella chiding her with her eyes before continuing. “and of course it is not enjoyable to witness someone inexperienced ruining their life through a failed murder attempt when they are close to you. I didn’t… mean it like that.”
Draco wasn’t sure he believed her words.
“Snape could be good for the job” Aunt Bella spoke up again. Then she giggled. “He is on good terms with Dumbledore, that makes it even more interesting!”
After a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence, she let out an exasperated sigh, “Come on, Cissy, let me have my fun.”
“This is my son we are talking about!” Narcissa hissed.
“You need to let go. You are too stiff!”
Narcissa snorted at that. The silence returned.
Draco scratched his hand absently. He didn’t know how to feel about this. Severus has always been adequate to him but helping him with his mission? He didn’t know if he could handle Severus sticking his nose into everything he was doing.
He shivered.
There was nothing he could do anyways. He would just have to adapt. He considered himself to be quite good at that. Being a Death Eater pureblood, it was all about loyalty, obedience, and manners. Draco prided himself on his good manners. They were beaten into him since he was little, just like everything else. It was good though, it meant he knew how to survive. How to bow and grovel and get away with just a slap on the wrist.
A loud pop beside him shook him out of his thoughts. A house elf just apparated at the top of the stairs. Draco didn’t know her name.
He found himself staring eye to eye at the house elf, who recovered a lot faster than him.
“Master Draco, please forgive Peksy, Peksy only wanted to clean, Peksy didn’t know Master Draco would be here, please forgive Peksy-“ she stammered.
Draco only raised a finger to his lips with a scowl, annoyed he had been disturbed. If the elf continued to be so loud, he might be found out and that was the last thing he wanted.
Kepsy or whatever the name was quieted down immediately. She just stood there, probably awaiting orders.
His mother has started sobbing again. He could imagine his aunt wasn’t very good at comforting her.
As much as he wanted to burst into the living room and give his mum a hug, he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
His mother detested being emotional around other people, including her son or husband. Her sister was probably an exception because they’ve been around each other their entire life. Although she usually had little trouble to stay composed. Tough times.
There was no point in trying to eavesdrop any longer. He heard exactly one valuable information and the rest of the conversation consisted of silence, suppressed crying and Aunt Bella’s occasional interjections. Like how Draco was a weakling, a coward. Or that he would probably fail his mission and be the reason they lose the war.
He could imagine her face quite clearly while she said it. She said it to his face before. She was just blunt like that.
When Draco got to his feet, the house elf shuffled out of the way fearfully. “Master-“ she squeaked.
“Just leave me alone, yeah? Don’t bother me again” he warned her. He let her off lightly. She better be grateful.
Kepsy just pressed herself against the wall in attempt to make place for Draco. He strutted past her.
Soon enough, he was back in his room. With a quick wave of his wand, he locked the door and threw himself on the bed. He crossed his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling. It was a high ceiling with little scrolls painted on it. As a kid, he always dreamed of touching it one day when he was older. He was delusional to think he would ever get this tall. One had to be a half-giant for that. Like Hagrid.
Ugh. How had his life come to this? Why on earth was he thinking of that big oaf?
With a groan Draco pressed a pillow onto his face. He didn’t want to see the room. Dawn was only mere hours away. Then he would have to get dressed and act like he was fine. He would have to research how to kill Dumbledore because no way in hell would he use the killing curse- not when he’d seen the Dark Lord use it so carelessly. The thought made his stomach turn upside down.
Draco feared facing reality. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t just keep going. How would he go through the school year? Dumbledore always attended every single meal. He couldn’t avoid mealtime, too suspicious, but how could he see Dumbledore in the eye without having to throw up?
He had already done enough throwing up.
With fear gnawing at Draco’s heart, he laid in bed restlessly and didn’t sleep a wink. Just like the night before, and the night before that too. He hadn’t slept properly for a while, and it was beginning to show.
When he looked in the mirror the next morning, he saw a boy with platinum blond hair, now greasy. It reminded him of Severus.
The dark rings under his eyes were very prominent. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes lacked any warmth, any fire they once held. They looked dull.
Draco swallowed. He almost didn’t recognize himself. How ashamed would his mother be if she saw him like this? He didn’t want to imagine.
Quickly making up his mind, he pushed himself to take a shower and take care of his oily looking hair at the very least. It was the only thing he could change at the moment.
When he stepped out of the bath again, hair still dripping wet, someone had laid clothes on his bed.
He carefully stepped closer. It seemed to be nice robes. Black and Green, with silver cufflinks. Almost as fancy as the one he wore on the day he was marked.
Draco probed his mind. What was the occasion? What had he missed? Was he becoming forgetful?
Even after wrecking his brain, nothing came to mind. Thus, he had not been informed of this change of routine.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply. If he had to meet the Dark Lord again, then so be it. There was nothing he could do.
With that in mind, Draco stepped closer to the bed and got dressed. One look in the mirror confirmed he looked fancy.
Pushing back his shoulders he got ready to descend downstairs and greet today’s guest.
Downstairs, his mother sat on the sofa, nipping tea.
“Good morning, mother” he called out softly. Upon hearing his voice, she turned to face him. She looked graceful, yet worn out. Eyes tired. Draco has already grown used to it.
A month ago, Draco could have expected to see Lucius by her side with the latest edition of The Daily Prophet. Now that he was in Azkaban, Draco took his place right beside her.
“Good morning, Dragon.” She smiled at him and set down her cup. “I see you are wearing the robes Peksy laid out for you.”
Draco tugged uncomfortably at his clothing. “What is the occasion?”
Narcissa pursed her lips. “The Dark Lord requested that you learn Occlumency. Usually your father would have taught you but Bella will take his place instead.”
Draco froze. „Occlumency?“ he asked slowly.
Narcissa nodded. „Nobody at Hogwarts can know about your mission. It is of utmost importance that you learn how to shield your mind against any invasion.“
„But why can‘t Severus teach me?“ Draco spluttered. Why did it have to be Aunt Bella?
Draco could already see her face twisting with laughter at his failures.
„Severus is a very busy man, Draco. He cannot teach you because he has more important matters to attend to. Bella on the other hand has the skill and the time to teach you. Besides, tradition forbids anyone other than family to give on the knowledge of this branch of magic.“
“I’m literally his godson” Draco muttered.
He chose not to dwell on it too much though and sat up straight. If Aunt Bella was going to come around to teach him Occlumency, it would be soon. She is not a person who cares about being late (except if it’s the Dark Lord who requests her presence) but when it’s about family and a request from the Dark Lord in some way she won’t be too late.
Besides, it’s better than the Dark Lord’s cold presence.
“Remember to mind your manners.” His mother looked at him strangely. “The Dark Lord might want to review the lessons to see how far you’ve come. Do not be a bother, just follow along with whatever Bella demands. For your own safety.”
Right. No pressure at all. He already dreaded the lessons.
Spending time with Aunt Bella on a good day was disturbing. On a bad day, she jinxed him for breathing in her direction, despite being her sister’s son, which usually gave him some leeway. He couldn’t imagine her liking him much, she usually complained he was too spoiled. Draco always brushed the accuse off, uncaring.
She just saw a boy who pouted and cried when he didn’t get his way and who hid behind his parents when trouble arrived. He has changed though. This summer changed him.
She wished she had a different nephew and he wished he had a different aunt. Of course, neither of them would say that to their face. After all, there was still the pressure that a pureblood family like theirs had to put on a united front.
Besides, it was just Draco’s view of things. Aunt Bella might even actually like him, sometimes. He just didn’t know.
Draco was ripped out of his thoughts by a house elf leading Aunt Bella into the living room. His heart started pounding hard.
Aunt Bella was dressed in Black, just like always. Bushy, curly hair put in a messy ponytail. A smile curled her lips when she set her dark eyes on him. It was uncomfortable and he was glad when she finally averted her eyes.
“Good morning, my dear sister!” she warbled.
The last time he had seen her it had been the night he was marked. He clamped up, muscles tense.
The last time he had heard her voice was last night. She had no idea.
Aunt Bella already had a cup of tea the next time he dared to look up at her, chatting with Narcissa.
Draco found himself making eye contact with her. Again. The smile on her lips didn’t match her hard eyes.
This time he was the first to look away.
He was doing this for his mother. Everything for his mother. Even letting his mind being penetrated by his crazy aunt.
Soon enough they were alone in a room on the second floor. Draco has seen this room a couple of times when he was roaming the manor in an attempt to cure his boredom, but it never held his interest for long. There was literally almost nothing in here. Just two chairs and a thick carpet. Not even any portraits, and those were everywhere.
“Sit.” his aunt ordered. She herself stood in front of him with her arms crossed. Draco spotted her wand dangling from her right hand.
“Do you know why you’re here? Why the Dark Lord demanded lessons in Occlumency?” Aunt Bella asked smugly.
Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “My mother told me that I have to learn how to occlude in order to prevent anyone from Hogwarts finding out that I’ve been tasked to kill Dumbledore.” He recited truthfully. The words felt wrong on his tongue.
“Good, good… Do you know why the Dark Lord chose me to teach you?” she leaned forward, her eyes glinted dangerously. Not even waiting for an answer she kept on talking. “I myself have been taught by the Dark Lord himself.” She laughed.
“It’s only fair you learn from the best. Besides, your father isn’t here to teach you anyways. He was never good at anything, I suppose, even keeping his freedom.” She sighed contently, finally taking a seat herself. “Don’t be sad, Draco, he is inept at Occlumency anyway.”
“Right.” Draco mumbled. Luckily Aunt Bella didn’t push him to speak up.
“First of, it is very important that what I teach you does not leave this room. You are going to concentrate and give everything you can. The better you are, the less we must see each other like this. Do you understand?” She began.
Draco nodded.
“Give me a smile love. I need to see you’re willing” Aunt Bella teased and Draco swallowed a snort. Other people’s consent was the last thing Bella needed to do what she had in mind. But for her sake and for his, he put on a shaky smile.
No way he could act like he was excited though. Over his dead body.
“Do not believe I will go easy on you just because you’re my nephew.” Aunt Bella rolled her wand between her hands. “I’m sure you are acquainted with the theory of Occlumency?”
“Yes, I have read a couple books on the topic” Draco responded.
“Good. I’m going to teach it differently than described in the books” Aunt Bella declared. “It usually does not work to just empty one’s mind. So instead, you’re going to learn how to build up a mental barrier first. Got it?”
“Yes, Aunt Bella.” Draco said dully.
“Think of something to focus on. It can be whatever. Smell, touch, images, memories,…”
Reluctantly, Draco closed his eyes and concentrated. What could he focus on? Something in the room? No, the room was too bare, there was nothing there. Except for a suffocating feeling that hasn’t left him for months. But he carried that around with him, it has nothing to do with the room.
Was it supposed to be a good memory? Because he couldn’t think of one. Images of his mother smiling brightly wavered through his mind, but they faded quickly, once again replaced by darkness and anxiety swirling through his body. He opened his eyes again abruptly.
“I- I can’t think. I’m sorry.” He forced out.
“What do you mean you can’t think? Focus, Draco! I thought you were a bright kid.” Aunt Bella clasped her hands together exasperated. Draco couldn’t help but flinch.
After a couple of seconds of silence, she had enough. “Remember it is something meant to protect you. Something you feel deeply connected with, that you can wrap around your mind like wards.” She paused for a minute. “Like a rain curtain. Or an animal fighting against the invader. I’m sure you can think of something.”
Draco considered this. A rain curtain sounded lame, and he didn’t believe an imagined animal would help in anyway.
He wondered what Aunt Bella’s barrier was. The Dark Lord himself perhaps? She did have an unnatural obsession with him and she believed full heartedly that he would protect her.
“You got something?” Aunt Bella said suddenly. Draco opened his mouth and closed it again.
She sighed. Then, without warning, she had drawn her wand and cast Legilimens at him.
Draco could feel her invade his mind. He panicked. Choked on his breath while trying to think of a way to keep her out. He had no ideas, just feeling awful being at his aunt’s mercy.
Memories of his childhood resurfaced. She was looking at them. Memories of his time in school. When he fought with Potter. In class, brewing potions. In his common room.
Then his mother’s face appeared. “Draco, are you coming?” she called out and looked at him with smiling eyes. That was last Christmas. When everything was still normal.
He could hear someone breathing erratically. They needed to calm down. “Breathe” he whispered. “Breathe.”
Suddenly he felt like emerging from water. He gasped, his lungs filling with air. He opened his eyes wide.
He was on the floor. Apparently he fell from the chair.
“That was thoroughly disappointing” A voice from above commented. Draco’s face flushed with embarrassment.
His aunt’s invasion made him panic. He did nothing to fight against it. What a failure.
“Get up, come on. We will try again. When you get it in the next three tries, you’ll be spared the Cruciatus curse.” She declared.
Draco could have cried on the spot if he had not been taught to hide his emotions all his life.
Of course, he didn’t get it in the next three tries. The Crucio felt deserved.
His aunt left soon after, but not after making him promise to practice.
And Draco practiced every free moment. He thought of different things to use as a barrier. His mother calling out to him, like in that one memory. Her voice, her face, her smile, her smell.
Another was the feeling of oxygen in his lungs. Breathing.
He sat down in a quiet corner in his room, fully concentrating. He was determined to avoid Aunt Bella’s wrath the next time.
His left arm burned almost the entire time, as if to mock him. It only served as a reminder of what was at stake.