Chapter 9
Draco’s breath grinded to a halt. Opposite to him was Potter, in a ragged pyjama and wearing his stupid round glasses.
Instinctively he looked at the spot where the lightning scar was hidden under his raven-black hair.
Just his luck to run into Harry Potter.
“What the fuck?” Potter uttered and stepped closer, his eyes wandering down Draco’s body, stopping at the books Draco still held in his hands.
Draco in turn took a step back and turned the books over so the front was unreadable.
There was no explanation for this.
“You’re dreaming!” he blurts out.
Harry looks taken aback. “I’m what now?”
“This is a dream.”
“No it’s not- why would I-“
“You’re just sleepwalking, none of this is real. It’s all in your head.” Draco whispered with a smile and tilts his head. He figured he’d have to act a bit unnerving to pass this off.
Potter stared at him, seemingly unimpressed. Draco circled around him.
"You have a vivid fantasy, Potter. I’m just wondering why you’re thinking of me so much- put your wand away!“
Potter held his wand up in a defensive manner. “This is weird.”
“You’re weird.”
Potter shrugged, but lowered his wand. Draco walked backwards.
„Remember to kiss your pictures of me goodnight,” he grinned.
Potter seemed to question his entire life choices.
Then Draco turned around the corner. Potter’s brain must have finally caught up, as he heard a yelped “Wait” and some stumbling. Draco scoffed to himself and hurried down the corridor.
Potter didn’t chase after him.
He cursed himself. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He will get a cell next to his father at this rate.
So many times had he almost gotten caught. It scared him.
And then Potter of all people! The fucking boy who lived. His school nemesis. His Dark Lord’s life nemesis.
Back in his room, the first thing he did was to barricade the door with a chair after putting the books on the desk.
He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his bed. He figured it was sometime around three am by now. He was wide awake.
What was Potter doing awake, sneaking through the house?
He scoffed. It shouldn’t surprise him to find Potter out of bed at night. So he took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
The realization that Draco could run into anybody at any time hit. This room was his cage. If he left, he’d be found, but the chance wasn’t zero if stayed. Anybody could come in, no matter what Bill said. Just how Kreacher came in.
He had no way to contact Bill either. He was stuck.
A groan left his mouth. It sounded unnatural in the silent room and he clenched his hand uncomfortably.
After a moment of hesitation, he sat down at the desk where he put his books. They were effectively covering the scribbling Regulus left there.
He grabbed one and turned on the desk lamp. Hogwarts: A History it was. Draco got comfortable in his chair and started reading.
The first few pages were tough as his thoughts kept spiralling to the latest events but eventually, he calmed down enough to get through two pages at a stretch. Reading about Hogwarts reminded him of the old times where he still had both his parents and wasn’t an ostracized Death Eater. A defected.
He never imagined this to be interesting but here he was.
Apparently there was no way for any outsiders to get into Hogwarts. Apparition didn’t work and as far as he understood there were no secret passages that led inside either. The Death Eaters had no chance to come into Hogwarts. That thought filled him with relief, yet he knew it was likely that they found another way somehow. Like… a vanishing cabinet. The thought seemed crazy at first, but he remembered the stories of how people used vanishing cabinets to disappear during Death Eater attacks. And he remembered seeing one in Borgin & Burkes. He tried to touch it once when he was twelve, just before his father beckoned them to leave. As far as he was aware, the vanishing cabinet hasn’t moved an inch.
Now, he knew for a fact that the counterpart was in Hogwarts. Just a couple months prior he found Montague in the toilet after he escaped the vanishing cabinet the Weasley twins shoved him in. Graham Montague, a fellow Slytherin who’s also been a member of the Inquisitorial Squad. He tried to take points from the Weasley twins but it didn’t go as planned.
The question was, how many other people knew of the vanishing cabinet. And how many knew that it was broken. It needed fixing first.
That would have been his job. To fix the vanishing cabinet. If they found someone else on the inside who can do it, then they would have free access. Of course, they first need to find out that the vanishing cabinet is an option to get into Hogwarts. But Death Eaters have their ears everywhere, in the form of their kids.
He clenched his jaw. It wasn’t as if he could do anything.
Finally he put down the book. His eyes were burning. He should go to sleep. One look outside the window confirmed it was almost dawn. He trudged to his bed and sunk into the covers. Sleep didn’t come easily to him, but eventually, he was dozing off.
****
The next morning Draco felt completely whacked. He’s slept badly and the shock of running into Potter sat deep in his bones. He didn’t even want to think about what Bill would say. Was he the type of person to become… physical? Hopefully not. Yet if Bill hit him in his anger, he wouldn’t put it past him. He explicitly told him not to snoop around and Draco disobeyed his direct orders.
Nevertheless, Draco pushed himself out of bed. With sloppy movements he got dressed before noticing the desk.
Like almost every other morning, a tray sat on it with breakfast. It wasn’t much but Draco was grateful for everything he got.
Next to the tray he found paper, ink, and a quill. Draco bit his lips. Bill remembered. He didn’t actually think… well, now that it was here, he could use it. He would write letters to Blaise and Theo later. Of course, he would have to show them Bill to get his approval and to get them sent, but just writing down what was on his mind would be great.
The book about Hogwarts still layed on the desk, open. As he picked it up to set it to the side, a note fell out. It sailed to the floor. Confused, Draco moved to pick it up.
It looked to be a century old. The paper has turned yellow. He opened it.
House elves in Hogwarts it said as a title.
Draco kept reading, his eyebrows furrowing as he read line after line.
I can’t believe I haven’t found information on this topic anywhere, but house elves actually do manual labour in Hogwarts. They clean and cook and do everything that is required of a house elves. And nobody even knows. Most people don’t question how the food just appears in the great hall; they think it’s basic magic. Yet it’s the house elves, creatures far more powerful than us wizards.
At least there they rarely get mistreated. Not enough people know about them to cause real issues and I’m glad. I’m tired of people treating House Elves like a race beneath us. We have enslaved them.
I must admit that I am ashamed.
Slowly, Draco moved his eyes to the scribbling on the desk. It looked identical. The writing was identical.
Draco couldn’t believe it. Regulus Black, a defected Death Eater, against house elf slavery. It seemed unreal.
He put the paper back in the book and snapped it shut. What in the world happened to Regulus that changed his mind about house elves? Draco knew exactly what kind of image he must have had growing up. How did it change so drastically? And why?
He thought back to Kreacher, who has been Regulus elf for some time. He didn’t want to answer how he died. They must have been close.
Draco pushed loose strands of hair away that fell into his eye, staring mindlessly at the breakfast before him. He slowly lowered himself onto the chair and took a small bite. Thank you for the food, Bill, he thought.
He ate up in a matter of minutes. Suddenly, a blasting crash made him choke on his food. The silence that followed felt louder than ever before. Tense, he sat rigid on his chair, coughing as quietly as he could. But nobody burst into his room, demanding him to get on his knees and beg for mercy. It was just silent.
His hand shook.
This house had to be oh so loud. What were they doing?! Draco didn’t understand. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and set the tray aside.
After one look at the still closed door, he dared to pull the paper, quill, and ink closer to him. He would write his friends a letter. And he wouldn’t wait for his demise.
Dear Theo,
Please forgive me if you cannot receive letters
from me. I will write you anyway.
As you might already know, my mother was
killed by Death Eaters. Your father is a Death
Eater himself, so you should be quite well
informed.
I am writing you now to establish which side
you are on. I know the name of Malfoy has lost
its honour, yet I am writing to you as a friend.
Don’t listen to the lies. Listen to your heart.
Draco
Only half content, he put the quill down. He sounded stupid and whiny. Begging. He resisted throwing it away and put it to the side instead. Ugh, how it annoyed him. How it pulled at him.
He closed the ink bottle and buried his head in his arms. He wanted to go home.
Some time later, he practiced wandless magic. He channelled all his energy and focus to lift the book into the air. Make it fly. He squinted his eyes angrily. It never worked.
Before, he actually made the paper slide over. He got so happy he knocked his chair over and spent the next minute in a panic if anyone has heard him.
But now it wasn’t working anymore.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” he whispered, his fingers twitched. The cover page flipped over. He did something!
“Wingardium Leviosa!” tried he again. Maybe the book was too heavy. What about the paper?
“Wingardium Leviosa!”
After approximately an hour, he has made the paper fly. He was proud, yet exhausted.
He snatched a piece of paper to write on.
I’m learning wandless magic. It’s difficult, but manageable. Soon, I’ll have some skills others can only dream of. I need to learn faster though; in case I need to defend myself.
He stopped writing then because he couldn’t think of more.
So, time passed slowly. Draco busied himself with his books and learning about countless things and yet that wasn’t enough to be able to ignore his emotions. They pricked him in his chest and stomach, again and again.
Suddenly, blaring noises reached his ears. Outraged voices became loud, so loud they got to his room. He couldn’t make out any words.
He sat frozen in one spot before creeping onto the hallway. The closer he got to the staircase, the louder became the voices. He leaned over the banister. Beneath him he could make out ginger, brown, and red hair, in the same stance. Four people to be exact. Probably Potter and his friends, grimaced Draco.
Two other tall, lanky guys were hurrying down the stairs. They looked like the twins.
“Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers—"
Who was saying that? As far as he knew, only people on the light side lived here. None of them would ever put those words in their mouth.
Draco remembered vividly how angry Potter and Weasley became whenever he called Granger a mudblood. It can’thave been them.
Now curious, he leaned forward some more.
“For the fifth time, I told you to be quiet!” someone spat, trying to drown out the screams of the woman.
“Someone help me, for Merlin’s sake!” another woman yelled.
Apparently her wish was granted, because soon after, the woman finally stopped screaming out insults.
“So,” the first person piped up again, “Neville, you have to remember to be fucking silent out here.”
“Language!”
“Neville! You’re here?” a more youthful voice said.
“I’m really sorry,” said Neville. Draco had to prick his ears to understand him.
What in the world was Neville doing here? Just exactly the people he likes to hang out with.
Luckily, he had to barricade himself in his room to avoid getting caught and brought to Azkaban. There wasn’t a chance they would meet.
What he was doing now was also insanely stupid and risky. Bill would be so disappointed if he knew.
“Neville’s here!” said Granger under him and elbowed her friends.
“What is he doing here?” murmured Weasley, not sounding very excited.
Draco grunted. Immediately four heads shot up in his direction. He dropped down to the floor, breathing low. He had to stop being so stupid, for fucks sake.
“What was that?” asked Granger.
“If that was Malfoy, I swear I’ll—” Potter said.“You still believe that that prick is in our headquarters? You must have hit your head too hard, mate,” snickered Weasley.
“I did see some platinblonde hair up there…” a feminie voice confirmed quietly. Maybe the Girl Weasley.
Draco crawled backwards until he was sure they couldn’t see him anymore and took off. Just in time, as he heard noises of feet stamping hastily up the stairs.
He shut the door in a hurry and put the chair under the handle. Stepping back, he kept his eyes riveted on the door. It felt like he couldn’t breathe. His entire body was tense and ready to fight. His mouth so dry he couldn’t swallow properly. He was fucking scared.
Running into Potter in the middle of the night was one thing, but almost getting caught by four of them during the day while he knew the house was full of people who hated his guts—he was a lunatic for believing he could come out unscathed. He might die. If not here, then in Azkaban.
Hours seemed to pass that he spent just standing in the room, staring at the door. He didn’t know how long he stood there. Eventually his stomach began growling, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw that no dinner has appeared. For Draco, that meant only one thing. Potter and his friends reported back to the others and that meant no dinner for Draco because he messed up big time. Bill obviously knew.
Eventually, he slid on the floor and buried his head in his hands.