Chapter 5
Draco was always right. He would find Diagon Alley.
When Peksy and him exited Bill and Fleur’s flat, he doubted himself at first. Reason for that was that they ended up in a hallway with many more doors, instead of a street, like he has expected. And when they finally found the exit for the building, he didn’t recognize the neighbourhood.
It was almost completely dark when they finally stepped outside, so it was difficult to recognize anything really.
Buildings look vastly different when bathed in warm light by lanterns, Draco realized as he looked around. How was he going to find the Diagon Alley in these conditions?
Some people hastening by in the late evening eyed them curiously. They did make a weird pair; a criminal's son and their house elf in a lower-class district. Not that they knew who he was. Hopefully.
He pulled up the hood. It would hide his platin-blonde hair that identified him unmistakably as a Malfoy. Shoving his hands into the pockets of the trousers, he finally decided to set off for the far end of the street. Finding Diagon Alley in London couldn’t be so difficult.
Except he wasn’t in London, but he chose not to dwell on that thought.
He would withdraw money from Gringotts and get a room somewhere. Potentially in the Leaky Cauldron. Before, he would have never considered even stepping a foot in there, but given the circumstances, he had no other option. Tom wouldn’t ask questions.
Glancing back, he saw that Peksy obediently followed along. He didn’t even have to tell her what to do, she just did what he expected of her on her own!
Draco contemplated punishing her for bringing them to Weasleys. If he did, maybe the lesson would stick. Father always used to say “Rather be stern now than regret it later,” when Draco asked him why he locked yet another house elf into the basement after an already harsh beating.
He stopped asking after a couple of times. Maybe because he never received a different answer, or maybe because he slowly realized that father wasn’t just talking about the house elves.
Whatever it was, the message still sunk in. In situations like these, he could understand. Here, it was better safe than sorry. Better trained properly than stabbed in the back by stupidity and foolish trust.
Although just thinking about hurting the elf like his father made him sick. He spent years having no trouble with it whatsoever, but now he has gotten to know Peksy… whatever.
He swallowed uncomfortably and didn’t look back again, trusting that Peksy would follow.
Walking while keeping his head low was challenging. Draco realized this after running into three different people back-to-back.
It felt weird. He was used to strutting around confidently, knowing that his family name earned him a special place in this world.
Now he had nothing to fall back on. The Malfoys were disgraced.
He wanted nothing more than to rip this weird pullover off and yell at anyone who dared to stand in his way, but those times were over. He was nothing anymore.
And there might be Death Eaters after him, so he didn’t want to take any risks.
A little while later, after he turned into another Alley, he felt weird. A rotten smell reached his fine nose. Draco ripped up his pullover to cover it up. How was such a stench legal?
Wherever he looked, it seemed to come out of nowhere.
When his gaze wandered up the houses, a strange feeling of nostalgia overcame him. They seemed to loom over him and made Draco feel like a little boy again, trying to keep up with his father’s long legs without making a fool of himself.
He found the Nocturn Alley.
Dracos eyes found Borgin & Burges on the other side of the street, the shop for dark artifacts. Accompanying his father there has been a regular occurrence as soon as he was old enough.
The light inside still burned. He could make out Mr. Borgin moving around, holding something… Draco squinted his eyes. A hand? Was he carrying a hand?
Suddenly, Mr. Borgin looked up and out the shop-window.
He lurched behind the next dumpster in record time. His breathing picked up.
This was so dangerous. Here were Death Eaters with full guarantee and he would walk straight into their arms if he stayed a second longer.
“I have all my teeth in this bottle!” A voice suddenly lisped behind him. Draco flinched with fright and spun around.
An old woman sneaked up on him, her tangled grey hair falling loosely around her shoulder. When she grinned at him, he saw she barely had any teeth left in her mouth. In her hand she indeed held a bottle. With teeth.
Draco stared at it in disgust. Would she try to sell them to him?
After staying quiet for too long, the woman jabbed his shoulder. “Are you a criminal? You’re looking rough, boy. Do you want my teeth?”
“No, thank you.” Draco forced out as politely as he could.
“Pity,” she mumbled. “I have some very fine teeth.”
Draco doubted it.
“Rot in hell!” she spat suddenly, “I would never sell my teeth! How could you suggest such a thing!?”
He stared at her, unable to think of a comeback.
“Scum.” Murmured she before hopping away, leaving Draco in cold sweat.
He wasted no time running back to the corner of the Alley.
Peksy awaited him there. She hadn’t even followed him inside.
“What are you doing?” he rounded on her as soon as he was close enough.
She flinched. “Peksy knows she disobeyed, Master, but Peksy couldn’t- so many bad things happening in there- “ wide eyes full of fear looked past him into the dark Alley.
Draco followed her gaze. He couldn’t quite shake of the terrifying feeling he got from that woman, so he totally understood Peksy.
Part of him wanted to scoff and brush it off because she wouldn’t understand such things, but he couldn’t.
He had come with his father on his business trips often enough to know what kind of hidden machinations happened behind closed doors.
“We’re not going in there. I changed my mind.” He said to her.
Her face broke out into a smile and she threw himself at him. “Thank you, Master, thank you!”
He sniffed and freed himself from her half-hug-thing. “Don’t touch me ever again.”
Peksy hasn’t bathed in a week. Not to forget that she was a house elf and not worthy of touching him anywhere.
She shuffled back and apologized.
He huffed. “We need to find Diagon Alley. No more messing around, do you understand?”
Peksy nodded her head. “Peksy understands, Master Draco,” she said earnestly, “Peksy can try to apparate!”
Draco considered it for a moment before throwing the idea out the window.
“I don’t think I would make it without throwing up,” he told her honestly.
She looked like she wanted to ask something else but kept quiet. Draco sighed.
“What is your question?”
Peksy’s face lit up at once. “Peksy may ask a question?” she squeaked.
He just gave her a nod and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.
“Why didn’t we apparate in the first place, Master?”
Silence. Then Draco shrugged his shoulders. “No idea. Sometimes people don’t go with the smartest move because they failed to think of it.”
Peksy blinked, obviously pondering his words in her ugly head.
Draco gasped. “No, I was right all along! It is too dangerous to apparate to Diagon Alley, Peksy, it’s too crowded. We don’t want attention,” snickered he. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”
Now that he knew where he was, it was easy to find the Diagon Alley. And he was right all along, Bill and Fleur did live in the middle of London. He had nobody to prove it to, but it felt good nonetheless.
It seemed like they have been walking forever when he finally spotted the large building of the bank towering above the other shops.
He walked closer and closer until Gringotts stretched upwards directly in front of him. Breath-taking and crooked like always. Lanterns lit up the building. In fact, every building, every shop in this street was lit up. Draco was in awe. He had never been here at night before and he loved the sight it offered him.
In front of the big double door stood two goblins on guard. The door was closed. Draco puckered his eyebrows. This just increased the difficulty of getting in and out vastly. Not to mention he shouldn’t stay at one place for too long. Not a public one like this, at least.
“Wait here,” he told Peksy.
He gathered all his confidence and approached those two guards in stride. They scrutinized him carefully.
Nobody else paid them any attention.
“Good evening,” he greeted when he was close enough for a proper conversation, “I would like to do a withdrawal. Would you be so kind to let me in?”
It was all false niceties. Father taught him to play nice with the goblins.
“We’re closed” the right one answered in a bored voice, shifting in his stance. Getting a better grip on his spear.
“I’m sure you can make an exception for me. I can pay you all the riches you want!”
“Get lost, kid” the other huffed. “We’re not opening for you. If we say we’re closed, then we’re closed. Got it?”
Draco stepped forward, irritated. “This is urgent. My life is on the line. Do you want to be responsible for that? Do you!?”
None of the two guards made any move to open the doors. In fact, they looked more bored than before.
“My fa-“
His father wouldn’t hear about this. He stopped himself before saying it out loud. That would have just been embarrassing. These goblins were no Death Eaters, but they sure didn’t respect him.
Draco clenched his jaw annoyedly.
“Malfoy, is that- is that you?” a voice called out behind him, sounding incredulous.
He swivelled around and clocked the owner of the voice immediately. It wasn’t too difficult since very few people were actually out.
The voice belonged to no other than Neville Longbottom.
He cursed his luck. How come he runs into this brainless idiot? Next thing you know, Harry Potter and Dumbledore show up to laugh at him?
“Good day,” Draco nodded at the Goblins and headed back down the entrance steps, slowly making his way to Longbottom. He decided it was not worth trying to get into Gringotts when it was closed.
What was worth trying though was to frighten Longbottom. And to sus out how he found him.
“Longbottom,” he said coolly, “What are you doing here?”
His classmate blinked. “I just came from- “he came to a halt, “I mean, I was just… around. In London. Had some important things to do.” He finished lamely.
Longbottom couldn’t lie to save his life.
“Whatever. Forget you ever saw me here, understood? If you tell anyone, I will make your life a living hell.”
Longbottom pursed his lips, clearly trying to find something to say, but Draco beat him to it. He stepped closer and closer, getting into his personal space until he clearly towered over him. Now that dunce had to tilt his head upwards to look him in the eyes.
“You see, I’ve been learning Dark Magic. I’m not too far away from mastering the unforgivable curses.” Draco hissed in a gravelly voice; the threat clear.
“That’s illegal- “
“I know,” sneered Draco, “and I wouldn’t mind using- oh Peksy, behave yourself, will you?”
Peksy has begun to tug on his sleeve. Annoyance flared up and he shoved her away harshly.
Longbottom’s comically wide eyes set upon her, and he held out a hand to help her up. Draco only scoffed.
The boy’s head swivelled around at the noise, his face darkening. “What is the matter with you?” he muttered irritated.
“Master, Master!” Peksy suddenly cried, still halfway on the floor, and pointed behind Draco.
Longbottom’s eyes widened, his mouth dropped open.
“Watch out!” he screamed and pushed Draco away, making him stumble.
“Longbottom!”
A curse hit where he stood just mere seconds before.
He stood frozen in place before his legs gained control and he took off running. Longbottom was left behind. He didn’t dare to try and look around to find out who was after him.
The Death Eaters found him. They found him, they found him, they found him- it was an ugly chanting in his head. He might die tonight. All because he wanted to withdraw money.
The adrenaline in his veins made him run faster than ever before. He ducked through the sparsely crowd, all of them just fleeting faces.
Curse after curse was fired.
Some meant for them hit buildings instead, effectively shooting off edges of walls. Some hit other passengers. He heard them screaming in pain, then screaming in outrage and fear. They weren’t the only ones running now. Everybody else got in a panic, too.
And he was responsible for it all.
Still, nobody in the crowd looked like a Death Eater. They have hidden themselves well.
“Peksy!” panted Draco, his feet never standing still, “we need to- “ he’s got to breathe, how does he breathe, air- “leave-“
She was by his side in an instant. “Where to, Master?”
“WHEREVER!”
Peksy grabbed him by his arm and came to a stop (almost ripping it off in the process) before finally disappariting.
This time, Draco welcomed the feeling of being turned inside out. It meant he would be safe very soon. Safe from Death Eaters.
They escaped, again.
After a couple of seconds, everything slowly stopped spinning. Upon opening his eyes, he saw that he saw nothing. They stood in complete darkness.
His legs gave out on him. It hurt like hell, dropping down like that on your buttock.
He sat there for a minute to regain his breath.
“Peksy? Where are you?” he finally whispered.
“I’m here, Master!” Peksy shuffled next to him.
He felt the floor with his hands. It was soft. Very soft.
“What is this place?” he breathed.
Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could make out pieces of furniture. In the shape of- a sofa? Next to it stood an old lamp on a small table. It seemed very familiar. If he landed a couple feet to the right, he would have landed in plants.
Were they-
“Why Peksy? Why here?” he groaned.
They were sitting on the carpet in the middle of Bill and Fleur’s living room. Again.
Peksy grimaced, as far as he could make out facial expression in utter darkness. She opened her mouth to say something, but Draco waved her off.
“Leave it. I don’t even want to hear your excuses” he rubbed his eyes tiredly.
They have just barely escaped the Death Eaters. He’s been right all along; they were hunting him down. If that wasn’t a sign that they wanted him dead, he didn’t know what was.
“What in Merlin’s beard do I do now.” He muttered aggressively to himself.
It was bad enough he ended up back here after outright refusing Bill and Fleur’s help. He felt drained. The last thing he wanted was to ask Peksy to apparate them somewhere else. He was tired of running around aimlessly, looking for shelter for a night and leaving again the next day.
While he could theoretically stay here for the night as Bill and Fleur offered, he already declined it before. Maybe they would take it back, throwing him back out onto the streets.
Peksy sniffed. Draco’s stomach growled.
The light to the living room turned on.
“What in Merlin’s beard-“
He recognized the person speaking as Bill. His voice was low and grumpy.
Draco froze up, feeling like a child who was caught doing something forbidden.
It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was enough for Bill to drag him up harshly at his arm.
“Let me go!” Draco yelled out alarmed, tugging desperately. Bill held him in an iron grip.
“What is your deal?” he asked.
“I didn’t plan to come back!”
Bill snorted. “Is that so? You didn’t think you could come in here while we’re asleep and ransack the whole house?”
Draco’s mouth fell open at the accusation. “How desperate do you think I am?” The illusion of control came back to him. “I have no desire to steal your belongings. You would have to be in possession of valuables.” He let that sink in for a second. “Besides, it is beneath a Malfoy to condescend to stealing like a filthy thief.” He spat.
Bill considered it for a moment. Then he slowly released his grip.
“Do explain why you, once again, decided to show up in our living room unannounced then.”
Draco dusted his clothes off. “That is none of your business.” He said curtly, deciding to be petty.
Bill crossed his arms and shifted in his stance. “I believe it is, seeing as your in my living room.”
That made Draco purse his lips. Bill was right, in a way. What would Draco do if strangers just apparated into his living room? What would Father do? Sue them, chase them off the property with threats. Lock them in the basement.
He had a feeling Bill wasn’t like his Father. The Weasleys were a bunch of pushovers, not owning even an ounce of pride for their blood. Perhaps, if he asked, he would just let him go on his way.
He hadn’t even meant to show up here again.
“How about I tell you my story in exchange for a bed and food?” It was time to bargain.
Bill stared and sighed. “Fine. Although you need to share the couch with Peksy, we don’t have extra beds.”
“I’m not sleeping on the couch with-“
“Do me a favour and shut your mouth.” Bill said tiredly. “I don’t care about your sleeping arrangements, alright? Sort that out yourselves.” With that, he shuffled into the kitchen, turning on the light and leaving Draco gaping.
He hastened after him. “Listen, she is a house elf, that’s-“
“I’m well aware of that. She still needs a place to sleep, don’t you agree?” Bill had his back still turned to Draco, now rummaging through the refrigerator.
He stopped in his tracks, huffing. Did house elves need to sleep? They were always ready to serve him, whether it was night or day. No, they probably had to sleep. Just, not when they were required.
When did house elves ever sleep?
“These are leftovers from dinner.” Bill handed him a box and shut the door.
“Ugh… You’re aware it’s still cold though, right?” He gave it right back.
Bill had the decency to look sheepish at that. “Late evening, you gotta understand.” He muttered and went to heat it up in a device he had never seen before. He wasn’t going to ask what it was, but he was pretty sure it was invented by muggles, by the looks of it. It was annoyingly loud and beeped when you pressed the buttons. There were so many buttons. How could anyone understand that machine?
Draco took the liberty of taking a seat at the small kitchen table. While trying to make himself comfortable on the hard wooden stool, a newspaper caught his eye, half hidden under a stack of official looking papers. He made a snatch at it.
His breath caught in his throat. His mother was depicted on the front page.
It wasn’t a pretty picture, she looked like a wild animal that was caught by its hunters. Paralyzed in place, wand raised, mouth open like she was screaming. To anyone else, she looked feral. For Draco, she just looked frightened. He gritted his teeth in agony.
He couldn’t exactly make out where the picture was taken. The background was dark like it was night.
Bill’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “That was right after she killed that witch.” He pointed at the picture, leaning over Draco. “See? She made it to the front page.”
Draco jumped to his feet and slammed his hands on the table, barely missing the box with food Bill placed there seconds before. “You have no right to make such accusations! My mother is not a murderer!” His voice shook with anger and pain.
“You claim to know that better than the witnesses?” Bill’s voice was low when he slid into a chair of his own, now looking up at Draco. His posture seemed relaxed. For some reason that made Draco even angrier. “Look at the headline. Read the article. It’s facts.”
Draco involuntarily glanced at the newspaper again. His gaze got stuck on his mother’s face for a few painful seconds, before moving on to the headline. “NARCISSA MALFOY CHARGED WITH MURDER OF GLINDA FLUME”.
He had to read it twice, thrice, before beginning to grasp the meaning.
Bill wasn’t just an ass; the whole public has been fed with misinformation. It was a smart move, he had to admit. A good punishment for the Malfoys, to make the last one remaining suffer with the burden of everyone believing that the mother is a murderer.
He knew Glinda Flume. She was the co-owner of Honeydukes alongside of her husband. When he was younger, he stopped by to buy sweets all the time. And now she’s been killed, supposedly by his mother.
“She went into hiding, according to the Daily Prophet.” Bill arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t happen to know anything about that?”
Draco refused to answer, biting down hard on his lip. Instead, he forced himself to put down the paper and dedicate his attention to the food in front of him, which stopped steaming a long time ago.
He could always read the article later when he was alone.
With that in mind, he lowered himself into the seat, picked up the spoon and started eating.
The food was mediocre.
Bill sighed. They both did that a lot.
“Peksy, do you want to eat something as well?” he called out over his shoulder. Draco furrowed his eyebrows at that.
“Peksy doesn’t know if she is allowed to, Sir,” she answered and suddenly appeared at the doorstep. Sometimes she moved like a ghost.
They both looked at him simultaneously.
“Eat or don’t, I don’t care.” He mumbled weakly.
“I take that as a yes then.” Bill got up to heat up other leftovers. “I wouldn’t have taken anything else for an answer, to be clear.”
Draco only huffed and continued ingesting the meal. He has been starving, he couldn’t deny it, even though the news of Mother did spoil his appetite.
What was going to happen now? He needed somewhere safe to stay.
Even though he would never admit it, Bill kind of scared him. His whole attire and attitude was threatening. Still, he didn‘t believe Bill would seriously hurt him if it came down to that. He got the feeling he could be very nice if he wanted to. He just didn’t want to be nice to Draco, which was understandable.
„I suggest you both go to sleep after your meal. We‘ll talk tomorrow.“ Bill said. „You‘ve been keeping us awake for long enough.“
Draco nodded. Now that Bill mentioned it, exhaustion came over him.
„Do you have a blanket for me?“ he asked quietly. Would Bill deny him a blanket because he had disturbed him so often?
„Yep. Finish that and I‘ll be right back.“ Bill left the kitchen swiftly.
Draco looked down at his plate and ate the last bit. Then he pushed the plate away from him and crossed his arms.
Peksy, who noticed he was already finished, began hurriedly bolting down the food.
She looked like he was about to take it from her. Which, he had to admit the thought crossed his mind, but he didn‘t… he didn‘t want to act on it.
They‘ve both been starving the last few days and it just didn‘t sit right with him.
He looked down at his lap.
A thought occurred him. Did Father know about the death of his wife? Has he been informed?
Somehow Draco doubted it.
Azkaban was isolated. The prisoners were isolated. They had no idea what was going on in the world.
He felt sorrow creep up. A giant ball of pressure in his chest. A lump in his throat.
He gazed vacantly at the kitchen table.
„I‘ve got two pillows and two blankets. Found them somewhere in the closet.” Bill returned and held up a blanket covered in red teddy bears. “I think this one used to belong to Ron. I don’t know why I have it”.
Draco heard the joke but didn’t smile. He couldn’t even bring himself to look up from the table to look properly at the blanket.
Usually, he would never waste an opportunity to make fun of the youngest Weasly boy. But even he could acknowledge that being at the mercy of his older brother made it difficult to crack jokes at Ron’s expense.
Besides, he wasn’t in the mood.
“Thank you, Sir” Peksy spoke up after casting a worried glance at Draco. “Peksy will prepare the beds for Master Draco and Peksy.”
Bill gave Peksy the blankets easily and proceeded to lean on the door frame. “You’ve got it?” he asked. There was no verbal answer by Peksy but Bill continued. “I’ll be going to bed then. See you in the morning. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Yes Sir!” Peksy answered.
Then Bill finally left. It was only him and Peksy in the kitchen.
How could he move? He wanted control of his body back. Lifting his gaze, moving his eyes from the table seemed like an impossible challenge.
“Come on, Master Draco” Peksy whispered. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
She took his hand and tugged slightly. Draco slowly rose up from the chair and looked down at their intertwined hands.
Peksy lead him to the living room with small steps.
“Please sit down on the couch, Master” she instructed.
Draco did as she said. His eyes started burning.
Peksy laid down the pillow on one end of the sofa.
Draco let himself sink backwards, his head hit the cushion. Peksy then threw the blanket over him. It was very soft.
He didn’t even mind that he got the one with the red teddy bears.
Draco wrapped the blanket tightly around his body. He pulled his knees closer to his torso and closed his eyes.
Peksy turned off the light, leaving him in pitch darkness.
The burning behind his eyes became worse, they began watering.
A tear slipped out. He could feel it roll down his face.
He didn‘t wipe it away.