fervere

Chapter Ten

Legilimency felt like holding a shallow breath submerged under dark murky water, at least, that’s what it felt like to Draco. Snape had slammed straight into Draco’s head for the fifth time and retreated soon after after Draco had fallen into a helpless pile on the floor, gasping for air.  

“Wait,” He croaked out, begging, “Please.” 

It was met by another invasion of mind scrapping; every inch of his memory was deeply scrutinized ever since Snape saw a glimpse of Hermione’s leg pressed so close to his at the final task. There was no denying it. Snape had witnessed it himself at the Final task, them sitting together, and he was certain there was more. He hadn’t been wrong in his assumptions that if Hermione wasn’t revolted to be sitting next to him, then there must have been something he had missed.  

Draco flinched at every private moment Snape over analyzed like his first kiss with Pansy Parkinson. Lots of his first with Parkinson were looked into and Draco felt a shame of his private life being so open to a professor. Draco also figured Snape assumed he would hide Hermione there with Draco’s intimate experiences.  

Like in the hours of dull lessons where Snape was sure Draco would have seen Hermione in class.  

He could not find her.  

When Snape realized this, his interest in finding Hermione diminished drastically as Snape looked for himself in his memories. Even moments like this, where Snape was present hovering over him menacingly, Snape could not find.  

And then the flash of Cedric’s expressionless face, flashed through Draco’s head over and over with no control over it. Fear gripped at his throat and it felt just a paralyzing as Snapes hold on his mind. 

Draco winced at the flashes of lights in his eyes and then a release. He crumbled onto the hardwood floor, his chest wanting to heave in as much air as possible but only had the strength of a tiny newborn owl. It was like Snape also wanted no part in that flashback, the one that haunted Draco’s nightmares. As Snape immediately withdrew from the traumatizing moment of witnessing Cedric’s lifeless body, he let out a curse under his breath. 

“You must not let certain memories haunt you,” Snape advised, the usual harshness in his voice was gone, “Or else you’ll drive yourself mad.” 

Draco collapsed gingerly closing his eyes, wishing nothing but a peaceful death at the moment. His temple rested on the cool floor, too heavy to lift his head up.  

“I don’t have control over it.” Draco mumbled out.  

“You don’t have a choice.” Snape placed his hands behind his back, regaining his usual stiff posture, “Empty your mind and breathe, exhale the worry.” 

The usual stale air in Snape’s home had been a comfort of some sorts was now nauseating him. He was dripping in sweat from both the mind invasion and a sweltering summer. It was only a few minutes departing from Platform 9 and 3/4 that Draco found himself in this yearly tradition of having Snape consult his mother’s worries.  

Snape lessons were always excruciatingly hard, but these yearly consultations were near torture. Draco suspected that Snape needed to demonstrate that he was being thorough with his legilimacy but this time, it felt like it was a whole new monster. One that Draco didn’t know how to fight against. All his hard work that Dumbledore had praised him for, felt mocking.  

Draco, despite all the lessons he had suffered through, was still no match for the full blunt force by a fully realized legilimens like Snape. Once he found a crack in Draco’s defense, he clawed on to any bit of memories he could sink into.  

Even when he withdrew, Draco could feel the deep punctures of his grip on his mind. It was intoxicatingly painful. 

After withering in pain from such an intrusive bypass, Draco’s mother, who had been watching apprehensively joined him on the floor and wrapped her arms to comfort Draco as his foggy vision began to clear up. Without much explaining, Snape informed Narcissa that it was imperative that Draco stay for extra summer lessons, as it would most likely be his last.  

“What is the matter?” Narcissa exclaimed, but to Draco her voice seemed off and muffled, “Anything concerning ?”  

“The tragic result of the Tournament,” Snape half admitted, ignoring the ‘deeply unsettling’ connection Draco was forming with Hermione now, “I would say most students wouldn’t be able to fully process to see one of their peers dead in front of them. Draco is no different.” 

Draco’s understanding was, at best, moving as slow as sludge. The second he had grasped one thing they were talking about, they had moved on to the next.  

“He cannot be weak!” His mother shook her head, “Draco needs more protection, Severus. He needs you. I know you can do it, you’ve been able to evade the Dark Lord. He knows nothing of what you protect.” 

It was the first time Draco had ever seen his professor stunned into silence. His dark eyes darted over to Draco who was finally regaining a bit more strength.  

“Keep him, teach him protective charms... potions, anything he needs,” Narcissa begged, “For as long- 

“The Dark Lord would, at best, be curious to his absence once he notices,” Snape advised, “If you keep him away any longer, he would more than likely grow suspicious, Narcissa.” 

“So, next summer is out of the question?” Draco’s mother asked, clinging on to her child, the delicate knuckles were turning white in desperation. 

“You can’t hide Draco from him forever. As I said, give the Dark Lord an ounce of doubt and he will start to question. And once he is suspicious, it won’t take much to see right through your actions, implicating me, you, and your entire family.” Snape warned. Narcissa held her breath. “But not to worry, I assure you by the end of this summer with me, Draco will be fully prepared to navigate himself. He has no other choice. He either succeeds to evade the suspicions of the Dark Lord, or he fails. And as always, I’ll keep my eye on him at Hogwarts as promised.”  

That’s what was floating in Draco’s mind.  

The implications if he should fail...  

He didn’t complain nor fight back. Draco simply tolerated it as hard as it was. He refused to break, despite the cracks that Snape had managed to find. 

Truthfully, it was the highest praise to know that he had stumped Snape, blocking him out of most of his memories, especially memories Snape was certain were in there. It certainly confused his professor, but Draco was glad Snape refused to ask how he was able to block him. 

Draco hoped he didn’t ask because Draco had no clue how he was doing it. The moment Draco felt an intrusion, a ripple of intense fear debilitated him, and his mind placed an iron clad barrier on the things that needed protection. Draco sensed that if Snape knew fear was driving the blockage, he would reprimand him. 

For the first week of summer, Narcissa took her son home for a bit of family time which only consisted of dinners at the end of a very long day. Unfortunately for both Draco and Narcissa, Snape had business to tend to and was unavailable to keep the proper watchful eye on Draco while on orders.  

Draco didn’t mind, really. He had a full body crash from the stress of the final task. Draco didn’t see the light of day due to the tonics he was downing. He’d rather be in a weightless black void in his head than to suffer from the vivid face of Cedrics blank face.  

“Ah ha!” Draco’s father cheerfully exclaimed when a letter was delivered late into their last family dinner before Snape was due to be free to take Draco back, “Your exam results. Wonderful timing.” 

The letter was carefully torn open. Draco’s mother leaned over her plate of food to see if she could get a glimpse of Draco’s scores. The worry in her eyes told Draco that she was hoping his grades hadn’t slipped, causing his father to question Draco’s focus at Hogwarts.  

His father’s dark eyes scanned over the letter for a moment. Draco held in his breath until the lack of oxygen burned at his cheeks.  

“Top of Slytherin class,” Lucius happily hummed out, “You beat out the mudblood in History of Magic and Ancient Runes for once. Your class rankings are mostly first in your year.” 

“Any classes we should be concerned over?” His mother nervously asked.  

“Not unless you want Draco to be some nut case rubbing a crystal ball and looking into teacups,” Lucius snorted, “I think it would be best to have Draco really lean into Dark Arts this summer, don’t you agree?” 

“You mean Defense?” Draco asked for clarification.  

His father glowered, “No.” 

Narcissa gulped, “Well, we won’t really know if he would need it persay...” 

Lucius flashed a curious look towards his wife.  

“Nonsense,” He slowly began, “The Dark Lord has returned, he will eventually expect the next generation to join him. When Draco does, he won’t be some bumbling useless fool like the McCoys.” 

Draco’s mother sat frozen for a moment, stunned in disbelief that despite her best efforts to shield her only son, her husband didn’t think twice in offering his services to the Dark Lord. Draco found himself pushing around his vegetables with his fork mindlessly hoping this dinner would end.  

“Yes well,” Narcissa cleared her throat, “Why don’t we stop by Knockturn. We can visit Borgin and Burkes to see if he has anything on the subject we can have Draco’s tutor-.” 

“Karkaoff,” Lucius gave his wife a quick smile, “No better person to teach Draco non-verbal spells. Will come in handy too once we practice him with actual dueling.” 

Draco suddenly straightened up, unsure when he had slumped over his plate out of sheer boredom. “Igor Karkaoff?” Draco asked, trying to clarify. 

“Didn’t you say that he fled Hogwarts that very night?” Narcissa nervously added.  

“We can find him,” Lucius confidently said, “It’s only a matter of time.” 

There was something off about the idea of not spending his summer with Snape that Draco couldn’t quite figure out. Perhaps it was his buried desire to have the opportunity to do more muggle things, especially now that he wanted to forget all about dark wizards and death. What he wanted was to sit in a movie theatre and eat a bag of buttery popcorn. Being shipped off to Bulgaria or whatever secret location Karkaoff was hiding at was not what Draco had envisioned.  

“Dear,” Narcissa lightly sighed out, “We don’t have time to waste. If it takes all summer to find him? And if the Dark Lord kills him without warning?” 

Draco held in a shudder. Narcissa’s reasoning seemed to have struck a chord with Lucius who was silent for a moment and bowed his head in resignation a moment later.  

“Perhaps you are right. I’ll pull out a few books from our library for him to take,” Lucius finally handed the result letter to Narcissa who immediately analyzed Draco’s performance. Judging by her reaction, Draco could tell it was satisfactory.  

Despite his parents positive reactions, Draco worried that all the help his education before Hogwarts was now at an end. He realized that he had to put a bit of effort towards the end of his forth year in some of his classes, especially in History and Arithmancy. Ancient Runes was another that he suddenly found himself revising runes he should have already known.  

He suspected that fifth year will finally be a year that Draco will be in the same playing field as other students, especially since OWL exams were the pinnacle of their academics they’ve work for so far.  

“It will do Draco good if he also attends a meeting-” 

“No he WILL NOT!” Narcissa dropped her cutlery with a loud clang, startling the once invisible house elves around them, “You are setting him up for failure if his skills are not developed-” 

“Then what was all the tutoring for then? If not to help Draco advance far beyond his years at Hogwarts!” Lucius argued back.  

“Mark my words Lucius. I will not risk Draco joining the DeathEaters when he isn’t ready.” 

“That is up to the Dark Lord,” Lucius reminded her.  

“He has a choice!” 

“How many people do you know who have survived a no?” Lucius warned.  

There was a deafening silence. His mother slowly sank back into her chair and looked at her untouched food. 

“And if he dies if he joins prematurely?” Narcissa quietly said, resisting to shout back at her husband, “Mark my words, Lucius. I will never forgive you for happily offering up our son over to Him. I don’t think I need to remind you that he is our only blood, if Draco dies the Malfoy name ends with him.” 

“May I be excused?” Draco let out a long sigh, he wasn’t up to sit in on his parents debating over his death. 

“We cannot be sure of the Dark Lords wishes!” Lucius hissed back, ignoring Draco’s plea, “If you think that I don’t act in the best interest of that boy, there, then you’re mistaken.” 

Narcissa scoffed, “BEST INTEREST?” 

Draco sighed, getting up from the table. The tense argument between his parents was interrupted by the sound of Draco’s chair scraping.  

“Library.” Lucius eyes snapped over to his son as he ordered, “Now.” 

“I wish to rest.” Draco announced, feeling his energy drain from such tense situations.   

“You will find ten books under the name James B. Jones.” His father continued.  

“But-” 

A wand was taken out and the startling fear of facing the end of his father’s wand, crippled Draco’s defiance. He felt the whispers of past punishments send chills down his back. Memories of painful stings on the back of his legs, open cuts on the soft parts of his arms. Draco gulped remembering a certain spell that felt like his skin was on fire. It only happened twice, once after he was caught playing with muggles when he was five years old and after his first year of Hogwarts when his exam results came in and showed an abysmal ranking, getting beat by none other than Hermione in every one of his classes. He could only remember the flash of excruciating pain and then waking up days later to his father crying at the foot of his bed.  

His father’s wand did not lower and Draco had no idea what his father had in mind if he defied him this time.  

“James B. Jones,” Draco repeated, “Ten books.” 

Lucius gave a single nod. Draco didn’t waste time and promptly walked out of the dining room. He knew the state of the family library, it would take him at least an hour to find the books and he knew his father would not let him rest until there were ten books collected.  

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco spent the next day mostly napping. He had had a sleepless night in search of books by the specific author.  

Titles that Draco knew his father would expect him to read. Books like Salacious Scriptures: Spells for Sensual Secrets or Maledication: Incantations for Dark Hexes, Jinxes, and Curses were not exactly what he wanted to spend his summer reading, but if it gave him any kind of indication how the Dark Arts worked, then he would be able to help aid Hermione and her friends. 

After grimacing at a book filled with the alternate uses of herbs and potions, Draco came across a book that he thought could help him: Shadowing the Mind: Blinding Your Enemies.  

Perhaps it would help him, perhaps not. Draco was too tired to really scan through the book thoroughly, he took the ten books up to his room and napped up until lunch. 

He heard it mentioned from Sephina that his father was called to the Ministry for urgent business when she brought him tea and treats for substance. Draco turned down the small meal in favor of more sleep but not before he got more information out of his house elf, Sephina.  

“What have you heard?” 

The tiny pink house elf sat down on the floor, enjoying a scone with cream and jam that Draco had offered her, and cocked her head up in thought.  

“Master is worried.” She simply stated.  

“Worried?” 

“Very worried.” Sephina confirmed.  

Draco found it odd considering that after a few days at his manor, Draco hardly saw his father out of character.  

“Sephina has served Master very late at night.” She continued, “He does not sleep. Sephina suspects he lost something.” 

Draco rolled his eyes up, thinking, “Where has he been looking?” 

Sephina shrugged, “He hasn’t. Master knows he just doesn’t have it.” 

It felt like the more he inquired the more confusing the story became. His father lost something that he hasn’t been looking for.  

“He believes you are all in danger.” Sephina added as Draco handed her his own tea. He wasn’t able to comprehend anything as he mindlessly tended for the house elf.  

Draco didn’t have much time to dig into. With the air of mystery around his father, seemingly supportive of His return yet reports of his fears, Draco wished he could have learned more of his father’s duality. But hours later, on the last night at the Manor, Snape had woken Draco up in the early hours of the morning.  

He looked like a menacing shadow at the foot of his bed, with the soft flickers of dying fire of the fireplace. It was cause for a heart attack. Draco jolted up, his heart pounding in his ears before realization sunk in and he flopped back into his cloud of pillows.  

Draco grumbled when he checked his wristwatch reading something along the lines of three in the morning. 

“For fuck sakes,” He said, muffling his words into his soft satin pillow. Draco imagined that Snape magicked his cover to snatch off of him. Draco whined. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought of leaving so early.  

He imagined he would be escorted to Spinner’s End by his mother on a late warm morning while his father was out.  

Not like this. 

Haunted by the shadowy figure of Snape at the foot of his bed. 

“Get up,” Snape ordered, “Get your things and, might I suggest, a shower.” 

“Why,” He whined to himself.  

“You reek.” 

Draco, clearly offended, propped his upper body up, “I mean why is this necessary at this hour?” 

“It is urgent. I do not have time and quite frankly,” Snape paused, “I do not wish to discuss it with you, so get moving.” 

“Wha,” Draco groggily responded, rubbing his eyes and throwing his feet off the bed. 

“Up.” Snape lowered his head menacingly, prompting Draco to fly out of his bed. Despite how tired he was, it wasn’t like he wanted to spend a second more of his summer under his father’s eye. Plus, there were muggle things to do.  

A surge of excitement got the best of him and he quickly handed Snape his black leather school trunks. Draco had wheeled around to find more comfortable clothes. He was going to turn around to ask Snape if he could step out so he could comfortably change but when Draco looked over his shoulder, Snape was gone.  

Even his school trunks.  

Draco jumped once a small pop filled the room and Snape had returned.  

“I see you have made no progress.” He sighed out slowly. 

“I see you have apparated.” Draco narrowed his eyes, “How? I thought the Manor was under an impenetrable charm.” 

“I sent an owl to your mother about the urgency,” Snape explained shortly, “She agreed that a quick and quiet retrieval would be best... both of which I have been failing at, no thanks to you. She lowered the protective spells for short amount of time... Do you plan to stand there all night boy?” 

Draco jumped in his skin. He abandoned the idea of fully changing in favor of throwing on trainers and a hoodie. Draco looked around his quarters and pocketed his wand, pointing to a third school trunk where he had extra books, both muggle and dark arts related.  

When Snape tried to physically lift it, he raised a brow.  

“Father wants me to study some books...” Draco explained walking over to his professor.  

Without any more questions, Snape asked, “Ready?” 

To which Draco gave a single nod.  

They jumped a total of three sickening times. The first apparation was a blur of an unknown park, then over to an impressively old cathedral. By the time they reached a darken street with no lights, Draco bent over, his hands on his knees, trying to control his breathing.  

He could feel the sick bubbling in his gut and it was made worse when a warm voice welcomed Draco to the dark street.  

“Ah, Severus. Draco,” Dumbledore voice said in such a cheerful manner, unusual for the time of night it was, “Wonderful you made it here.” 

Draco still trying to control his breathing, squinted up at the headmaster, “Dumbledore? Where is here ?” 

Snape nudged Draco, “Manners.” 

“My apologizes, Professor,” Draco gulped down, finally regaining a bit of balance. Draco squinted at the extraordinary dark street. Even the streetlights were out. Every towering townhome looked daunting and unwelcoming.  

“Ah,” Dumbledore chuckled, “I’m glad you asked. This is Number 12, Grimmauld Place.” 

And just as Dumbledore had said, between two homes, another began to squeeze itself into view. Draco being surrounded by magic all his life, stood there impressed and speechless.  

“Head Quarters,” Dumbledore went on, “To the Order of the Pheonix.” 

“Sir,” Snape jumped in, as if he was wary to allow Draco know too much.  

“Now now, Severus,” Dumbledore kindly smiled at Snape, waving them to follow him up the steps to the door, “If you intend to having him here while you do my work, he will eventually find out. It’s only a matter of time, after all.” 

Draco volleyed between his Professor and his Headmaster as he followed behind him and into the dark home. As grand and opulent as it looked outside, Draco wished he could say the same for the derelict interior.  

It had to be some joke... 

“Professor Snape,” Draco kept his eyes on the sleeping portraits of what he assumed were the homeowners, vaguely recognizing their names and faces, “Why are we not at Spinner’s End?” 

"Because it will be easier to have you stay here for further instructions,” Snape announced, “Which I will do when I have time between assignments Dumbledore has me do. There will be others here to keep an eye on you while I’m out.” 

“But Spinners-” 

“I will not have you at Spinner’s End alone, left to your own devices,” Snape glared, “I cannot have you galivanting around the muggles making a fool out of yourself or be spotted by someone who knows you. If you aren’t aware then let me make it clear, now is not the time to be careless.” 

Draco would have usually felt offended that he wasn’t trusted enough to spend his summer alone considering that at the manor, he was left to entertain himself. Most of last week, he only saw his parents at dinner.  

Still, something about Snape not wanting to leave him alone stunned Draco. It felt paternal. Almost fatherly. 

“I- I don’t mind,” Draco gulped, oddly happy with the restrictions. He felt a bit more awake than before. 

“I assure you Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore smiled kindly, “You will find your stay comfortable here.” 

Draco doubted it, looking around at how unlivable this home looked, hopping over a broken floorboard. Most of the walls looked grimy and the ceilings covered in old spiderwebs. 

Snape continued.  

“It is possible that I might spend a few hours away or even days on the request of Dumbledore.” He cleared his throat, “Whatever the case, it was Dumbledore who suggested that it was better to have you settle here so that I can continue monitoring your progress without having to go back and forth from Grimmauld to Spinner’s.” 

Draco’s mouth hung open, still in disbelief he was being transplanted here. It was so thick with dust, Draco still expected this to be a test of some sort. A joke. 

Dumbledore jumped in, “It will be the perfect opportunity to have the Order gain confidence in you as I do.” 

The Order. Draco repeated it in his head, asking the ever important questions of what it was and who was in it.  

“I’ll have him up in the attic,” Snape announced, snapping Draco out of his tired thoughts, “Shall we go and clean it up?” 

“Right,” Dumbledore agreed as they began their long ascend, past a few floors, up to the last story where Snape directed them towards a shadow corner only to reveal a set of narrow steep stairs that led up the attic.   

Draco was stunned at the state of what was supposed to be his living arrangements. At this rate he would have preferred the tiny room Snape had provided him with at Spinners End.  

Hell. Draco wouldn’t have minded sleeping out on the streets.  

Even in the still of night, through streaks of muted moonlight coming from the rounded window, a thick mass of dust clung on to the air. Draco sneezed sending dust particles whooshing in radical little flares and circles throughout the large space. 

“Oh, right,” Dumbledore sighed out, pointing his wand. He muttered an incantation and with a few flourishes and help from Snape, the dust was gone in the blink of an eye. The wooden floors even looked shiny and smooth. It was then when Draco noticed that despite such a large room, there was no bed to rest on. Before he could open his mouth and ask, Snape pointed his wand at a wardrobe and it jumped into a tidy sturdy bed. Even the mattress looked squishy enough to rival the comfort of Draco’s own bed at the Manor.  

He cautiously walked over and sat, in disbelief. 

“Rest, Draco,” The Headmaster smiled, “Soon we’ll have all the Order here and you’ll have some companions to spend the summer with.” 

With that the old wizard took off, while Snape paced over to Draco’s school trunks.  

Draco frowned, “Who- what Order?” 

“Nevermind that.” 

“Where will you sleep?” Draco directed his questioned back to Snape when he plopped onto the squishy bed. 

Snape lifted his nose and paused for a long stretch of time, a book of his. 

“Shower.” He said, ignoring Draco’s question. 

They were greeted by someone very surprising at the door: in the shadows a dark figure that jumped at the chance to tease Draco’s professor. 

“Funny, Snivs. Didn’t know you knew what those were.” A new voice mocked and where Dumbledore once stood, stood a thin sallow looking wizard. His hair was at his shoulders, wavy and shiny, and although he looked gaunt the recognizable face of Sirus Black had enough bite to him to come and taunt Snape. 

Draco's jaw hung upon seeing the face of a known escaped prisoner of Azkaban. A dangerous feared man was causally leaning at the door frame, narrowing his eyes playfully at his professor. 

“Sirus Black ?” Draco choked out.  

Sirus Black turned to him and smirked, “At your service. Didn’t know you had a kid Snivellus. You’re lucky he’s not as ugly as you.” 

Professor Snape was stiff and looked down at the scrawny famished looking man, who had more charisma in the way he moved than what he currently looked. 

Draco thought of his mother, a former Black, and thought how quiet she was yet carried a sort of calculated charm about her. It was similar in the way Sirus carried himself except he refused to be calculating and allowed his wit to be unfiltered.  

“He’s Draco Malfoy. Your cousin’s son.” Snape raised a brow, “And before you go on and harass him. He has Dumbledore’s full confidence, otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.” 

Draco watched the convict drag his sight from Snape and over to him. 

“Wonderful,” Sirus smirked, “Another questionable bum to babysit.” 

Snape snapped, “You, being the most precarious one of all.” 

Sirus who had been slowly advancing towards the apprehensive Draco, stopped his stalking and turned to Snape who was busy thumbing through a book. Draco was relieved that his dirty magazines were not called into question.  

His Dark Art books were. 

“ Maledications ?” Snape questioned, facing the book front to Draco. 

“There’s more.” Draco admitted, “Father ordered me to read anything under James B. Jones. He expects me to be instructed in his teaching.”  

Draco locked eyes with Snape, almost daring him to jump into his memories, “I tried my best to find ones that could be of aid. I thought that perhaps it would be helpful to know how the other side thinks.” 

“S’got a point,” Sirus frowned, impressed.  

“I’ll look them over before I hand them over to you,” Snape announced before taking a final look into Draco’s trunk. Snape let out a long-exasperated sigh when he pulled out his copy of Beauty and the Beast.  

“Draco,” Snape hissed, “Are you aware these books are grossly overdue.” 

“Yes,” He blinked.  

“There’s a late fee,” He sneered, “And calculating a years worth fee of being overdue-" 

Draco shrugged, “What’s the problem? I can pay.” 

Sirus Black let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms, “No need to get your panties in a bunch Snivs. Let the boy pay his fees. He’s got money, don’t he?” 

Snape shot Sirus a cold hard look and he held up his hand, “Uncle Black is just trying to help.” 

With a final glare, Snape dragged his school trunk away leaving Draco alone with Sirus.  

Something inviting about Sirus Black made Draco curious about him. Like the same curiosity one would have being locked in a cage with a hippogriff. As terrifying as Sirus looked, he asked if Draco needed to rest considering it was around the time of night where it started to merge into the earliest of mornings.  

It was an awfully polite gesture from a broken looking man. 

“Or would you rather tour this godawful home of mine.” He suggested, causing Draco to jump back on his feet all remnants of sleep disappeared with the suggestion of a small adventure.  

It was like having a cool older (much older) cousin. Sirus sauntered away, leading Draco on a brief tour of the home, which he later found out was the Blacks. Draco suspected that he wasn’t supposed to be learning anything from Sirus but he was made aware that this place would be headquarters to the Order of the Pheonix, a group of aurors that hoped to provide as much protection from the growing threat.  

His suspicions were proven correct when Snape appeared in the kitchen where they had stopped to ask a very ugly looking house elf, Kreature, for a bit of food for an early morning snack. Snape hollered at Sirus and ordered Draco back up to the attic. Draco scampered away, but still lingered around the dark corners of the musty house to overhear. 

“Wait until Dumbledore is back,” Snape voice snarled, “To wipe that smug smile off your face. If you can’t be trusted with a student, there’s no hope to have Potter around. He will be the one to tell you-” 

“Oh of course you’ll go tattling to Dumbledore, like you always do,” Sirus groaned out, a tinge of annoyance in his voice, “If the boy is here then he will eventually find out. I don’t know why it surprises you that the mischief of teens always finds a way if they are willing... Surprised you didn’t go off squealing to your little friend Snivs. He’s a bit young, isn’t he?” 

“He’s a student,” Snape defended, “One that I’ve been tasked to guide from both Dumbledore and his mother. And I refuse to let him anywhere near the Order. If you knew the kind of danger he will eventually be walking into, you wouldn’t want him near any meeting.”. 

“You’ve got a way of over explaining and saying nothing at all, don’t you?” Sirus yawned, “I stopped listening ages ago.” 

Draco felt a smirk on his face. It was quite entertaining if he must admit.  

“Such boldness coming from a man who can’t even step a toe outside,” Snape snapped back, then heavy footsteps began to head towards Draco. He wasn’t quick enough to run up the stairs, nor did he think if he had a better reaction, he would be able to hide the fact that he was listening in.  

Snape nearly ran into Draco once he rounded the corner. He sent a piercing glare at Draco and a second later thrust a calming tonic into his hand.  

“Drink. Now,” He ordered, “And go to your room. When you wake, you’ll be helping clear the house and then I’ll have a lesson with you when I come back.” 

“But I can’t use magic,” Draco reminded, rushing up the stairs followed by Snape as if he need the assurance that Draco would not go exploring. 

“Exactly.” 

A few more flights of steps and a bit of heated cheeks from being winded, Draco reach his room. He frowned watching Snape cast a few more incantations around the attic and darkening out the round window where the light of day began to warm the cold dark attic. Snape turned to the door to find Sirus poking his taunting head in. Snape marched over and pushed Sirus out with him. 

“Watch out for the doxies,” Sirus called out his warning, “They tend to bite.” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco made the most of the afternoon when he eventually woke up. He spent most of it trying to tidy up his attic as much as possible. Thankfully Snape and Dumbledore had charmed the majority of it so it wasn’t as unsightly as the rest of the home. There was even a desk tucked in the corner that thankfully had no dust.  

There were a few things in his school trunk that he had unpacked he could use already. He had intended to use a thick throw blanket for the winters at Hogwarts, but considering how cold and drafty the attic was in the middle of summer, Draco would rather not die of a cold.  

Draco also asked Kreacher, the Black’s house elf, to help him with moving some furniture around and requesting for fresh sheets to have on hand. When the circular rug was properly dusted and the best place for the handsome desk was found, he sat down and did a bit of light studying burying himself into his hoodie. 

There was much to plan and organize. His summer homework, the hopes he can get a head start on fifth year materials, even the dark art books that Snape confiscated.  

It must be read in order to make his father happy. Surely he’d bring it up in some dinner to test him. 

While Draco drafted out a schedule for himself, allotting enough time to make sure he was touching all school subjects, a thought crossed his mind and he nearly crumpled up his rough draft.  

Lessons. 

Snape’s lessons.  

He hadn’t factored them in and judging by the light coming in from the rose window, it looked that the day was dying. 

Draco knew what awaited him when the sun set. He set down his quill and closed his eyes. Draco inhaled and exhaled, focusing every fiber of his being to prepare for Snape’s lesson. The preparation was the easiest bit, it was the actual lesson that Draco was always difficult. Protecting his secrets came at a painful cost. 

When the sun had set Draco waited up in his attic for a while until he grew restless. Snape was nowhere to be found. Draco raced down the flights of stairs to find Sirius Black looking out the window of their library, arms crossed defensively.  

He turned his sights towards him and gave him a wicked smile.  

“Looking for Snivs?” He asked, “Just walked out.” 

“He was here? Why did he leave? What for?” Draco huffed, not yet fully aware that he should be celebrating. He didn't have to go through the pain of legilimens. 

“Dumbledore assigned him the tack of helping the Weasley’s move,” He announced, “I volunteered but was told that a convict like me was still technically at large to both wizards and muggles. Would possibly bring unnecessary attention.” 

He finished his explanation with a flourish of an eye roll. Sirus looked back out the window and an etch of concern lined his forehead.  

“Good news is,” Sirus sighed out, “He brought you a companion.” 

Just then Aster barked, as if angry that hadn’t noticed him earlier. Draco flinched at the sudden bark and immediately melted when Aster pranced over to him wagging his shaggy tail. He kneeled to pet and give his little friend a hug. 

“Aster, boy,” Draco exclaimed, “What are you doing here?” 

“Snivs dropped him off,” Sirus announced, “Said he would be in better company than alone at his place.” 

Draco smiled, “Well Aster better company than any ol’ Weasley, aren’t you?” 

Aster got a good long lick of the side of Draco’s face. Draco playfully protested and stood up. When he collected himself, his mind went back on the tidbit of news he had ignored by the presence of Aster. 

"You did say the Weasley’s, right?” Draco repeated, confused hoping that he had a mental hiccup. 

 Sirus raised his brows at Draco, studying his twisted face of worry.  

“Oh,” He huffed, “Don’t you worry it’s not all of them.” 

Draco relaxed.  

“Just Arthur and Molly,” Sirus confirmed, “And the four youngest.” 

Draco winced. Draco finally understood when Dumbledore said he would be in good company this summer. He never imagined he would have to spend his summer with the Weasley’s. Draco also suspected they would think the same once they found out they’d have to share the summer with him too.