fervere

Chapter Twenty Five

“Would Aunt Gretica’s summer home be adequate enough for a location dear?” Narcissa licked her lips as she brought a neatly cut slice of plain streak to her lips, “Switzerland is incredibly beautiful in the summer.” 

Draco’s Father gave his son a long look before bringing his cupped hands to his mouth in deep thought.

“I don’t know if she’s sold her estate,” Lucius replied glancing curiously at a rather early sunset from the row of towering windows facing the westward gardens of the Manor, “The last I’ve heard of her was because Cousin Druis owled. He mentioned they’d be on a lengthy holiday by the Italian coast.” 

The Malfoy’s had gathered for a rather early Christmas Dinner organized by his mother. The entire dining room was decked out in thick lush garland and dark crimson ribbons billowing from the ceilings. The center piece was a decadent arrangement of red Hellebore flowers surrounded by small glittering floating candles, catching the reflection of all the nice silverware at the table. House Elves were silently rushing back and forth from the kitchens to serve them each course and refilling their goblets of mulled wine anytime they ran low.  

“Well,” Narcissa sighed out, “We’ll need the perfect venue for Draco’s Sixteenth Reception to start submitting notices to the Floo Network. You know they positively loathe when a large amount of people travel long distances with no prior explanation. Much more under this Ministy. ” 

Draco had been silent on the matter of his very important birthday coming up. He sipped on the rather warm wine that no doubt was made with father's best pinot noir and wondered if he’d have any say in his own party. It was still a solid six months away. 

“I’ve heard that Montague, our team captain, got to spend his Sixteenth in the Carribean near America.” Draco pipped up, “He didn’t want to have a big party, just a trip with his two close mates.” 

“Nonsense,” Lucius waved his son off, “You’re a Malfoy and you're expected to have a proper introduction.” 

“Don’t burden your father with your friend’s ideas,” Narcissa lightly snapped, “You should aspire to have a grander introduction than a silly trip to a beach.” 

Draco fell silent once more pushing a bit of perfectly roasted vegetables around with his fork. He wasn't particularly hungry as he listened to his parents decide what was best for him. In fact, he wish he could have another goblet of mulled wine he could down. Or, better yet Draco wished he was back in his quarters listening to the cassettes over and over again, nodding his head around in his pillow happily.  

As much as that would bring him bliss, Draco couldn’t imagine if he was ever caught with a muggle item in this house the reign of punishment he'd endure.

He swirled his wine around the cup. 

“Guest list,” His mother voiced out, catching Draco attention.  

“I want to invite some of my friends,” Draco immediately stated.  

His mother rolled her eyes lovingly at him, “Of course you will be able to, Draco. The one’s we approve of, of course. Now I’ve heard that the Greengrasses returned-” 

“Absolutely not,” Lucius shook his head, “They’re seen as fleers, and I refused to be associated with them. We cannot risk it.” 

“I heard Philomena Greengrass is quite the socialite in France, dear,” Narcissa brought the wine cup to her lips, “Surely she was simply going for a lengthy visit.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Draco huffed, “That’s a real shame father because I will be inviting Daphne Greengrass to my party.” 

Before Lucius blew his top off at Draco’s push back, Narcissa jumped in sensing the sudden tension.  

“What of that nice girl you are dating Draco?” Narcissa glanced at her husband, “The Clearwater’s, dear. Decent family, don’t you think?” 

Lucius who had been growing red in the face, released his tension in his shoulders. He grabbed his own drink to aid in his troubles and took a long swig of the wine.

“I hardly think they ever weighed in on an opinion ever at work,” Lucius bitterly said, “Not the sort we should be entertaining at the moment.” 

Narcissa looked nervous but glanced between both her husband and her son, “Well we hardly know them. Wouldn’t it be nice to formally meet them?” 

“Don’t need to,” Lucius scowled, bringing up a forkful of meat to his mouth, although he didn’t look particularly hungry at the moment, “History snobs. I know their kind. Think they know everything about the past.” 

Draco couldn’t help but to glare at his father.  

“Well, dear,” Narcissa gulped, “I invited them just as a formal gesture. Arranged a small meeting.” 

“What?” Draco blurted out, which was echoed by his father. The sound of metal hitting dinner plates echoed throughout the dining hall. Draco realized it was his knife and fork that had bounced off the table and had been quickly replaced by an attentive elf.  

Narcissa reached over to place her hand over her husband’s hand, “Dear, I thought it would be nice to get to know the parents of who Draco is dating. Once he is older, we will be vetting other families! You know it will benefit us to see what kind of family would mesh well with ours.” 

“What about the Nott’s daughter?” Lucius teased, “We already know their family well enough, don’t need to vet.” 

Draco paused, “Nott? As in my mate Theodore Nott?” 

His father forced a sarcastic smile out, “The very one.” 

“His sister is five years old!” Draco nearly gagged.  

“Well, we can wait a few years.” 

“Lucius!” Ms. Malfoy snapped, “We are going to greet this kind family into our home, give them a warm welcome, and determine who is fit for our family based on qualities other than blood! You better get used to the idea, Lucius. I refuse to hand over my son to a relative of his.” 

His parents settled down but their stare was intense. 

“Anyways, they’ll be here for a late tea,” She hissed out, “Either you graciously stand by me or you leave.” 

Draco cocked his head to the side, “They’re coming tonight ? But Mildred stayed behind at Hogwarts for the holidays.” 

Draco mother gave him an understanding look, “I know, love. I invited her parents. I was told her sister is spending her holiday in Brazil for a Ministry work trip.” 

“Sister?” Draco questioned, completely forgetting that Mildred had an older sister. 

“Penelope Clearwater,” Lucius rolled his eyes, “She’s involved with a Weasley you know. Openly at the Ministry. No shame whatsoever, just another reason why we shouldn’t consort with such people.” 

Draco felt a tad bit defensive. 

“Daphne Greengrass is with Ron Weasley,” Draco announced.  

Both his parents snapped their focus back on him, in shock, as he lifted his chin up in defiance. 

“Foul,” His father drawled.  

Draco narrowed his eyes, “What exactly is foul about it? Aren’t they exactly what you value father? Purebloods?” 

“Those traitors?” He scoffed.  

Narcissa nervously jumped back in, to push the conversation into focus. Her focus, that is.

“The Clearwaters should be coming around soon. You hear me, Lucius?" She snapped, glaring at her husband, "If anything, you can use it as an opportunity to wrangle new people for the Dark Lord if you must, but you’re not going to ruin this tea because you can’t look past your stupid ideals that got us into this mess in the first place!” 

Draco felt his hand grip on his knife and the word NO, lodge up in his throat, but before he had the chance to voice his opposition, Sephina had barged in. 

“Master and Mistress Malfoy,” Sephina’s tiny voice rang out, “Your guests have arrived.” 

Lucius downed the rest of his wine and filled his cup generously once again. Draco nearly choked on his surprise glancing at his mother with urgency.  

Now? 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco stiffly stood behind his mother, as she warmly greeted the Clearwater’s in the guest room. Mildred’s parents looked like the very picture of historians that Draco had envisioned. They had plain clothes that still had a feel of sophistication. Cooper Clearwater had a humbled appearance about him. Timid and unsure in the way he moved, perhaps he was caught off guard as to why they had been invited to the Malfoy Manor.  

Still, his large glasses and somewhat bald peppered hair, gave him the appearance of those old muggle librarians Draco came across during his summers with Snape. Kaia Clearwater, the matriarch, was a rather thin woman but handled herself with grace in such an unknown situation. She sat with her back very straight as she quietly observed the situation, nervously kneading her hands together. 

“How’s the tea?” Draco’s mother kindly smiled at the new pair, who looked like fish out of water. They had been quiet since they sat down but their eyes wandering around in the opulence and grandeur of the Manor. 

“Splendid,” Mr. Clearwater smiled, reaching for the tea immediately to take a sip, “A dash of cinnamon and cloves is exactly the blend I prefer during Christmas.” 

“Are you sure you’re not hungry,” Narcissa asked once again, “I don’t mind asking the house elves to whip up a course of Christmas dinner-” 

“No, no, no, no,” Mr. Clearwater chuckled, “We actually just came from a rather lively Christmas party at the Ministry. All of our interns unfortunately were tasked to organize all the employee files last minute today. They couldn’t go home so my wife and I thought we should cheer them up.” 

“We forced a break on them and brought in some ham and warm butterbeer,” Mrs. Clearwater grinned, “The staff was kind enough to fetch a few pastries for them too. They’re still there working, although maybe not as productive.” 

“I don't blame them. Not after they brought out the fire whiskey,” Mr. Clearwater chimed in, causing both to chuckle happily. Draco’s mom joined in on the light laughter a second too late to be considered natural. Draco winced at his mother's attempts to connect, leaning against his mother’s giant arm chair to observe her closely. 

“Yes, speaking of which,” Narcissa cleared her throat, “I was quite surprised, but delighted, that you accepted my invitation on quite short notice. Especially on a day such as this, now knowing how incredibly busy you were.” 

Draco chewed on his lip, glancing at the door of their receiving room half expecting Mildred to come running in.  

Instead of Millie, it was his father was standing by the entrance, sulking with a glass of wine in hand. His mother had placed a silencing charm on him as retaliation for a not so warm welcome when the Clearwater's were greeting their hosts. 

Mrs. Clearwater shied away but answered.  

“Yes well our girls were quite busy this year so we thought it wouldn't be terrible just to use the day to get ahead of our work.” She exchanged a long look with her husband, “Penelope is off with the Minister on his trip to Brazil and Mildred stayed at Hogwarts.” 

His mother turned to Draco as if he needed to be the one explaining why his girlfriend wasn’t present. Draco really had no clue why Millie had stayed behind.

“She’s wanted a few weeks of peace to focus on studying,” Mr. Clearwater smiled, taking another sip, “Mildred is quite studious. Very serious about her OWLs this year.” 

Draco’s mother smiled, “Oh Draco, I’m sure, is also under pressure.” 

Suddenly Mildred’s parents' laser focused on him and, for the first time, hDraco felt like he was being scrutinized and analyzed to see if he was good enough for their daughter. He suppose it was only fair but it still didn't make it any easier the way they stared at him as if they were expecting him to do backflips to impress them.

“I try to stay on top in all my classes,” He gulped, hoping that it was enough to satisfy their curiosity on him. 

“Mildred did write that you’re an awfully busy person,” Mrs. Clearwater chuckled, wringing her hands together, “Always in the library or off studying with some Gryffindors.” 

Draco saw the way his mother froze. His grip tightened on the edge of his mother's arm chair, forcing out a polite smile at Millie's parents at that innocent admission. Draco could see his father was silently fuming at the small detail. Draco wondered how much Mildred had told her parents about him. Perhaps it was best to believe she had told them everything. Lucius would be raging at his own son in front of guest, if it wasn’t for the silencing charm. 

“Yes, well, Professor Snape forced us to pair up with a different house this year.” Draco explained, “I was assigned to study with Neville Longbottom. He’s rather doubtful in his own abilities in potions so it’s a nice review for me helping him cover some ground.” 

His mother looked stunned at the news.

“Ah the Longbottoms,” Mr. Clearwater nodded slowly, “Knew his parents before they unfortunately...” 

Draco mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “Draco’s had a great foundation for his studies before he was even accepted to Hogwarts. We’ve had him with private tutors at a very young age. Even during Summer, he never strayed far from his books. The only way we could get him outside was buying him a broom.” 

Draco's mother lightly laughed, trying her best to steer the conversation into something that wouldn't catch her off guard. The Clearwater’s looked rather impressed with Draco's history of his studies. Draco didn’t feel proud though, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. 

“You have a rather dedicated young man, Narcissa,” Mrs. Clearwater gave him an appreciative look, “I can see why Mildred likes him so much. She’s always mentioned how she’d love someone who can challenge her academically. Loves to go on and on about legislation theories and historical politics.” 

Mildred’s mother suddenly paused and let out a nervous laugh. Draco had been slightly confused at their description of Mildred. Draco had no idea about that side of Mildred. Most of the time they were studying in silence, snogging or...  

He felt the burn of shame at his cheeks when he realized he hadn’t been an exact gentleman to their daughter. But it also didn’t feel like the same daughter they were describing. 

“More on the law side of things,” Mrs. Clearwater gulped, clearing up the possible misconceptions they might be forming of Millie.  

Mr. Clearwater beamed, “She’s got a quite a mind for decrees and government. I think she fancies herself a future as a Wizengamot.” 

It was the first time Draco had truly seen his mother blanche. It was notorious that the wizard courts were not favorable to anyone from the dark side, at least not while Draco was a baby. He recalled a few times his own father was called in for interrogations about his involvement with Voldemort.  

Yet, this was another detail of Mildred he had no idea about.  

“What a promising young witch you have on your hands,” Draco’s mom said, giving him a long look and what was shocking about her gaze was that she wasn’t appalled or frightened.  

His mother looked almost hope ful. 

As if this relationship Draco had formed was somewhat of a scapegoat if their family were to find themselves in trouble with the law.  

Of course.  

She had spent years trying to find a way out of this awful life she had no interest in. She was finding a sense of hope in the seeds she had sewn long ago. Draco dating someone with promising legal connections in the Ministry would farewell for his family, if the tides were to go against their favor.  

Mildred’s parents look relieved at the stamp of approval from his mother.  

“And what of Draco,” Mr. Clearwater smiled up at him, “What do you find yourself interested in, young man?” 

Draco paused, staring into the kind eyes of Mildred’s father.  

Draco supposed that every person had a stroke of luck on their side at least once in their life. Draco was lucky to be born with abundance, of that it was clear, but also the mere coincidence of having exactly what he needed just land on his lap like it did right at that moment.  

Draco felt invincible.  

This was just too easy.  

In fact, the entire set up was just too convenient, Draco was convinced he had someone favoring his luck up in the universe. 

He grinned slyly, “Well, Mr. Clearwater. Funny you should ask.” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco had found himself dressed neat and proper in the Ministry’s Archives with trailing behind a quick footed Mr. Clearwater after the new year on a crisp early January of 1996.  

Draco had dawned a pair or thinly framed golden spectacles to fit the part of what he had in mind what an Archivist looked like. He didn't know why he assumed glasses would make him much more intellectual but he wore them despite not having the need for them. The rich chocolate turtle neck sweater under a tanned knitted vest with plaid gray trousers that Draco chose to wear that day was nearly mirroring what Mr. Clearwater was wearing himself.

Except for the fact that it looked natural on him, while Draco felt like he was wearing a costume pretending to be a some soft bookish bloke.

Nevertheless, once Draco had followed Mr. Clearwater past the heavily guarded check points of the Ministry and the hustle and bustle of workers getting to their offices early in the morning, he was led straight towards the Archives that were easily reached by a huge grand staircase leading them down to their basements. Draco would have ran past Mr. Clearwater in pure raw excitement if it wasn't for the fact that there was a very threatening wizard at the doors, guarding the entrance.  

“And who is this?” The wizard who looked far too old for being so aggressive, barked out.  

After a very tense exchange of declaring Draco’s identity and stating his intentions for a tour, he was forced to leave his wand at the counter with the guard. 

“What does it matter?” Draco glared, “I’m still a student. Can’t do magic outside of school.” 

“Oh yeah?” The guard challenged, “Then why did you bring it here if you can’t use it?” 

Draco gritted his teeth and slammed his wand on the counter where the guard stood behind. Mr. Clearwater nervously laughed but allowed himself to hold the door for Draco, handing him a pin.

"Ministry pin," Mr. Clearwater explained, "I got you one with special permission. Otherwise it would be impossible for you to enter the Archives."

Draco studied the simple pin that had the letter "M.A." molded from silver. Draco assumed it was charmed as a key to allow him to access this tour. There was a weight of unknown stress Draco felt fall off his shoulders. He didn't know how guarded the Archives were and he was relieved he knew that now, especially with the pin in his hand.

With a sigh, Draco had flung odd his thick wool winter coat the second he had stepped into the vast room. The extra layers had felt suffocating but it wasn't the reason why he peeled off his coat.

It was the fact that the Archives was not opened to the harsh elements of the bitter winder that made this cold stale underground department feel like heaven. Like his answer to all his problems was in the mist of the countless rows of stored away files and all he needed to do was jump right in to the thick of it.

Still, Draco retrained himself, listening to Mr. Clearwater touring him around gleefully at the way things were organized in their department. The Ministry’s Archives reminded Draco of a very orderly Room of Requirements, that is, if the Room of Requirements stretched on and on as far as his eye could see as he climbed down even more steps to reach the infinite feeling floor.  

Mr. Clearwater was ecstatic to see Draco’s clear expression of impact on his face. Draco was more than thoroughly impressed, he was dumbfounded at the vastness of the room. 

Mr. Clearwater took lead and Draco followed in awe, their footsteps echo contained to the row in which they marched through.

Draco had to admit he was astonished to be in the very archives that housed thousands of years of information. It was one thing to know such a thing existed but to see it first hand, wow. There must be something her to help him. 

They were passing by what looked to be fading documents that were encased with a piece of enchanted glass and paintings of what looked like the depiction of one of the most famous wizards that ever lived. Draco froze in place while Mr. Clearwater was explaining the preservation of wand fragments. 

“Is that Merlin?” Draco pointed to a rather extravagant portrait of a long-bearded man holding a black bird. The portrait was curiously still, frozen in time, like the ones he knew muggles had. 

Mr. Clearwater glanced up at the display and beamed, “Yes, yes. Quite a find that painting was. Straight from King Arthur castle, the muggle king, at the time. Merlin was a Slytherin like you, but you must have known that already.” 

Draco couldn’t help but to continue staring on at the painting with a gilded ornate frame. 

"Wow," Draco breathed out quitely beholding the man who looked down at him, as if Merlin knew the mischief he was up to. 

“In this area we have a lot of visual history, like the first instructional books of charms, all in ancient runes of course. We also have some sketches of dragon kinds that have long ago been extinct. There’s also the first successful wizard photographs somewhere around here.” Mr. Clearwater pointed out, “Most of our Archives hold family information and reports on births and deaths. I’m sure if we get into a deep search we can find a few sketches of some of your ancestor’s Mr. Malfoy, if you’d like to, that is.” 

Draco politely smiled, “That’s not necessary.” 

He had enough education on his family in his formative years. He rather not waste a single second more looking at his past.   

“Some of the most coveted pieces of information we have is records of juggernauts figures in our history,” Mr. Clearwater smiled pulling him through an aisle that looked like all the other aisles they had fled past. Draco couldn't figure out why it was significant enough that Mr. Clearwater made it a point to present the rather ordinary aisle, that is until Draco laid eyes upon the boxes that were shelved. 

Labels with names Draco was familiar with cause him pause, feeling that sense of delightful impressiveness.

“Only a handful of witches and wizards make it to this aisle.” Mr. Clearwater grinned broadly.

“Grindelwald,” Draco read off, holding back a smirk, “ Flammel. Peverell. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin?” 

Mr. Clearwater excitedly approached Draco who was astonished that the Hogwarts founders were found here.  

“We’ve got a ton of things about the founders stored here,” Mr. Clearwater pointed out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Bathilda Bagshot spent a decade here going through our files on them for her book. Hogwarts, A History.” 

“Do you have more on Hogwarts?” Draco asked, hoping his string of unassuming question would lead him straight to his burning answer.  

“Sure, my boy,” Mr. Clearwater zoomed past him and took him on a ten minute maze walk through the endless room, before they arrived in a section specifically for Hogwarts. Again, another uniform aisle, like all the others before. Draco began to wonder how anyone knew how to locate anything in this maze of information.

“We’ve got years and years of students’ completion diplomas, student expelled forms. All copies of it of course. Oh, in the visual area we have every portrait of every Headmaster that has served the school. We even got retired wands from Headmasters that donated it to the archives, very rare indeed. Most Headmasters love to lay with their wands once they pass on, you see. Wands are very picky and temperamental if they’re not with their owner so it doesn't make sense to past it on to another person in the family. Very loyal those things are but they don't make the best heirlooms. Oh, look here. The copies of current records of witches and wizards that got an acceptance letter from Hogwarts this year.” 

“Copies?” Draco zoned in, "I thought you'd have originals."

Mr. Clearwater shrugged, “I'd say about seventy percent is original and we make due with copies, as long as their verified. Unfortunately with the Quill of Acceptance and Book of Admittance, it's pretty impossible to store here. It's located at your school you see. It's one of those items that will always be in use at Hogwarts to keep track of the future generations. Unfortunately we cannot have it here. It would be a crowning treasure for our Hogwarts collection, since the founders created it. It’s been in use for nearly a century. It just the nature of some things."

Draco chewed on his lips thoughtfully.

"Thankfully since McGonagall oversees the acceptances, she graciously sends us a list to file away. It’s been said that the Book of Acceptance has the names of children as young as newborns written down but McGonagall refuses to share anything other than the most current first years. I suppose she’s right on keeping it well guarded and out of sight. Imagine the kind of uproar some parents will have if they couldn’t see their child’s name immediately in the book.”  

Draco slowly nodded.  

“You say you have records on nearly everything?” Draco cocked his head to the side, looking at the massive amount of information boxed all around him. He shoved the wandering thought of his own imaginary children’s names in the Book of Acceptance. He cleared his throat to focus, “Would you have record of ordinances when Hogwarts was built?” 

“Of course we do,” Mr. Clearwater exclaimed but not before giving him a long look.  

“I’m curious how the founders decided on Scotland as the location.” Draco shrugged. 

Mr. Clearwater smiled and pointed his wand at the shelves and a box popped out, hovering just above them. It slowly sank as Mr. Clearwater peered in pulling out a scroll and stepped out of the aisle to conjure a rather large desk to unscroll an ordinance.

“I think there’s even a blueprint of the first design of Hogwarts, Rowena Ravenclaw was the mastermind behind it, very wise woman.” He gushed, pulling out paper weights to place on the corner of a rather rough map of Scotland, “You’d be surprised how much has been added on over the years since they opened. The Great Hall portion of Hogwarts was the original school for decades. I believe if we go back to the founder’s aisle, Rowena Ravenclaw has a diary on how they housed the students in small cottages out by the lake.” 

Draco raised his brows up in surprise, his eyes landing on a very familiar lake on the map, “That many students were living in cottages?” 

“No, my boy,” Mr. Clearwater chuckled, “Back then, based on our records, the amount of students was fairly low. It was the norm that each founder mentored two or three students each. In fact, in the year 1003, Hogwarts had it's first peak of students attending.” 

“How many?” Draco asked.  

“Fifteen.”  

“Oh,” Draco felt a small smirk coming on, “That’s a small class year in one house.” 

Mr. Clearwater chucked out loud, “Yes, you’re right about that now. How times have changed. Anyways this is the original map the founders used. If you see small x marks, those were places that were scouted but ultimately weren't chosen.” 

Draco looked at the map that Mr. Clearwater had rolled out. It looked somewhat primitive to what he’d known Hogwarts to be and the landscape it was nestled in. It was a rather interesting blueprint, he must admit but it wasn't the reason why he was spending so much time entertaining Mr. Clearwater.

“Mr. Clearwater?" Draco drawled inquisitively, "Are there other blueprints here?” 

“On Hogwarts?” Mr. Clearwater asked to clarify, “No, not any updated ones. They have it under lock and key back at your school for safety reasons of course, but generally, we do try to keep all kinds of blueprints of magical buildings. Diagon Alley was a terrible mess when the Ministry of Magic and the King's Advisors met up back in the early 1600s. A lot of the businesses were bleeding into the muggle streets around the Alley. Lots of Muggles were suddenly pushed passed the concealment barriers and thrusted into a full street that wasn’t there before. Tricky situation for the Ministry to go around erasing memories.”  

“What about Gringotts blueprints?” Draco asked, raising a cautious brow. Mr. Clearwater seemed giddy with Draco’s prying.  

“You are a curious one, aren’t you?” He chuckled, “We only have the offices and first floors of the Bank, unfortunately nothing underground. Goblins are fiercely protective of the treasures they guard.” 

Draco shrugged as Mr. Clearwater placed a firm grip on his shoulder, appreciating the level of interest he had in his work.  

“Would the Archives even have blueprints of the Ministry?” Draco looked around at the rows and aisles they had seemed to be lost in, “I would imagine it would be redundant to have-” 

“Of course we do,” Mr. Clearwater laughed, “Every government office needed to have revisions approved if they changed a layout. What is true for the outside is even stricter for the Ministry, I’m sure we have a current layout of the Archives somewhere around here. Kaia must know, she’s more meticulous with organization than I am.” 

Draco smiled. He had the exact information he needed.  

“Would you mind showing me that Merlin portrait once more?” He asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have more, would you?” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Revitalized with the promising prospects, Draco threw himself into legilimens until the very end of his break. 

He was pacing back and forth at his quarters at the manor while Sephina was instructed to think of an object before Draco attempted to break into her mind. It was certainly trial and error but she was grateful to help him out. Anything for him, she’d often say.  

At the beginning of his holiday while he practiced on her, he’d exhale and find Sephina holding a plate with something rather muddy on it. Draco had guessed food, mash potatoes to be be exact.  

It was a pile of books that she was thinking of. 

Another time, Draco had guess she was thinking of his student pointed hat.  

She was thinking of a thimble. 

As frustrating as it was to incorrectly guess, Draco could feel the way he would be pulled into another’s mind, that part was easy. 

What was difficult for Draco was getting out of that fog that stopped him from seeing the visual they were thinking of.  

When he correctly guessed a small dainty necklace that belong to his mother, Draco nearly smothered Sephina in a hug. He had seen it clearly in his mind after days of grueling failure. He had been growing weary, wondering if he had the capacity to even accomplish to do the most basic of legilimens.

“Masda,” Draco's house elf said in a muffled voice, “Sephina ‘an’t bref.” 

Draco immediately let her go took a moment to collect himself. He had done it, and if confidence and practice is what it took, then he could be ready for a meeting as soon as the end of January.  

“Thank you Sephina,” Draco smiled after a productive practice, “You’ve been a huge help and it’s not work that has gone unnoticed. Actually everything you’ve done, I’ve taken into account. I don’t have anything nice to give you other than this.” 

Draco had only been kidding of course. He had a box ready for Sephina on the condition he was about to propose. He shook the box for added affect. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity. 

“Promise me this,” Draco began.  

“Anything Master.” 

“Promise to serve me out of willingness and not out of servitude. Hopefully soon enough, the secrets you keep for me will surely benefit you.” Draco smiled kindly at her, “Here.” 

It was nothing but an old Slytherin neck tie but the moment Sephina opened the box her long bony hands stopped and her big tennis ball eyes began to gaze over.  

“Master.” She whimpered.  

“Friend,” Draco corrected, “After all the things you have helped me with, you deserve a title I grant to few.” 

Sephina sniffed back her tears. 

“I am a free elf?” She sniffed as Draco nodded.  

“Anything I ask for in the future is simply a question and not a demand,” Draco pressed his lips together to hide his wide grin, “The only thing I ask is that you continue to faithfully serve my parents until it is safe to escape. If they suspect anything is off, this will not only question you but the rest of the house elves as well.” 

Sephine gave a faithful nod, “Anything for Master.” 

“Friend,” Draco corrected once more, “Here.” 

Draco took the box from Sephina and looped it around her rather large head. 

“Hide it underneath your....” Draco trailed off, unsure of what to call Sephina’s usual raggedy pillowcase, “Your dress,” 

Sephine glowed as Draco tucked the necktie underneath to conceal her secret.  

“I am free.” She whispered.  

“Yes,” Draco nodded.  

She flung her tiny arms around his neck.  

“I am forever in your debt,” She sniffed.  

“No,” Draco shook his head, “I am in yours.” 

Sephina, who had grown to be a faithful source, shook with sobs in Draco’s arms. He knew that perhaps it was something he’d done prematurely, considering the favor he was about to ask that was the most important of all the tasks he’d ask her so far.  

“That said,” Draco cleared his throat, “I do need one last favor, Sephina.” 

“Anything,” She repeated and Draco pulled her hand towards him, guiding her palm up to receive the pin he had stored away. The pin that had allowed him to access.

“The Ministry’s Archives,” Draco’s gaze lowered and his face twisted mischievously, “Would your magic be able to get you in?” 

Sephina kneaded her boney hands together, “Of course, Master Malfoy, what is it that you are looking for?” 

“A map?” 

“A map of what?” 

“The Department of Mysteries.” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

Draco was enjoying his train ride back to Hogwarts. Hope was the way he'd describe how he was feeling and it felt pretty damn good to have a breakthrough. 

Once the map was in his hands, if it existed at all, he would be able to ask if Hermione could enchant it like the Hogwarts map. He had witnessed her draw on the Slytherin House on their secret weapon. Perhaps it would be the same to enchant a map of the Department of Mysteries in the same way. It was the best way he could think of keeping an eye on the prophecies and tip off Dumbledore if there was anyone that didn’t belong there. 

It was genius. 

Draco was a genius.

While Draco was sitting in silence, basking in silent pride of his intellect, with a big goofy smile on his accomplished face, Crabbe and Goyle were busy passing around the newest issue of Wand Whisperers. It was a special Christmas edition so, most of the girls inside were very festive in the little attire they had on. 

“Oh Saint Nicola,” Crabbe sighed out, “Keep pulling those Christmas crackers.” 

Goyle snorted as Blaise Zabini threw a glare at his rowdy friends. Zabini, Ron’s Potion’s partner, was pouring into a book. He had mentioned his parents would be calling off his own Sixteenth Reception party over the summer if he failed any of his OWLs.

“Ain’t my fault that turning a hog into a nightstand isn’t my strong suit,” Blaise whined, “It isn’t exactly needed, is it? Not like Charms. Bloody midterms.” 

Draco smirked before settling on his breathing. His hand gripped his wand and he whispered an incantation just as he inhaled.  

He could see a bit of Zabini’s mind. It was all blurred hogs running in circles around him. Just like he had practiced on Sephina, the more energy he put into prying into minds, the clearer the visions and thoughts were.

Zabini shifted in his seat, rubbing his forehead as he screwed up his face in thought.  

"Bloody headache," Zabini growled under his breath.

Draco was confident that he had improved but he doubted it was anything impressive to Snape, but it was something tangible he could do now.

There was a sense of ease Draco could relax into now. As if universe was finally aligning in a way that should have been set in the first place. Like he had been correcting the edges of a key to unlock a new reality that was  just out of his reach. Draco threw on his headphones and pressed down the play button as his foot swung around with the beat of the music for the rest of the train ride back.

“Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away...”  

By the time they had arrived to Hogwarts, it was late at night and all Draco wanted to do was crash into his bed, except he had no such comfort.  

Unbeknownst to him, over the break Draco had forgotten one tiny promise, a grave error, that he would have to suffer for nearly a month in search of forgiveness.

It hadn't occured to Draco that the moment he had stepped into the castle after a rickety ride on the carriages, along with a mass of other tired students, a terrible screeching voice would call out for him. 

“DRACO. LUCIUS. MALFOY!” 

He froze in the throng at the sound of his name, an unknown fear leaking into his veins at the thought of being in trouble. A grip of hesitation forced him to lay his sights towards the voice that called out for him, he had spotted Mille at the top of the staircase who immediately flew down to approach him. A fiery look on her face as she marched up to him, her wand tightly gripped in her small hand. Draco's friends, who flanked him suddenly took a step back unwilling to get involved with a lover's spat.

“YOU PROMISED!” Millie cried out passionately, “YOU- YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING LYING SACK OF SH-” 

Her voice cracked and failed her as she pelted him with a few light punches that Draco took, wincing at in shock more than the blows. 

“Millie,” Draco growled, nearly panicked at her growing rage, “What’s going on? What are you talking about?” 

Millie stopped, her hands dropping to her sides as she let out a loud sarcastic scoff, “WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT? WHAT AM I . TALKING ABOUT? ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING THAT MALFOY?” 

Draco’s eyes shifted side to side, dreading to see a few familiar faces slowing down to see what was going on. Draco caught Ron's red hair from the corner of his eyes and he knew that the rest of them must be nearby as well.

“Yeah?” Draco stupidly asked. Millie's jaw unhinged in complete disbelief.

“FIRST YOU GIVE ME NOTHING OF WHAT I ASKED YOU FOR CHRISTMAS,” Millie raged on, “AND THEN YOU PROMISED YOU’D WRITE! YOU. PROMISED!” 

Millie took her wand and directed at the open door where a cool draft breezed in, “PILANINGUES !” 

Before Draco could speak, about a dozen snowballs came zooming in and began pelting him, exploding bits of fragile ice to crumble at his feet and sting at his face. 

“YOU’D THINK THAT I’D BE RECEIVING AN OWL EVERY DAY THE WAY YOU CLAIM TO LOVE ME,” Mille screeched, “OR EVEN A NOTE! DID YOU KNOW? DID YOU KNOW THAT I WAITED FOR THREE LONG WEEKS? I RECEIVED NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU.” 

Another around of snowballs was directed at him, causing a very entertaining show for the students simply walking by. Draco wanted nothing more than to have the earth swallow him whole.  

“IMAGINE HOW STUPID I FELT, DRACO WHEN I FOUND OUT YOU AND MY PARENTS HAD A JOLLY GOOD TIME GETTING TO KNOW EACH OTHER AND YOU DIDN’T HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME ABOUT IT!” Millie huffed. 

“I had no clue I was going to meet them!” Draco raised his voice, “That was all my mother’s doing!” 

“AND STILL NOT A SINGLE LETTER TO MENTION THAT!” Millie seemed to have had enough of attacking him with snowballs and thought her hands were a better option. She resorte to softly thump her loose fist on his chest again losing power as she went on.  

“I- I’ve NEVER felt so pathetic waiting around to hear word from you,” She lowered her voice to a decent range, wavering in emotions. Her eyes brimming with hot frustrated tears, “And you promised .” 

Draco felt the burden of the immense guilt placed on him. He had forgotten of what he had promised. He had been so caught up practicing on Sephina, listening to his cassette player, and the opportunity to visit the Archives, that even with the big fucking reminder in front of his face, Draco couldn’t remember to write to his own girlfriend.  

He pulled her in close and hugged her, shoving her head into her chest as she began to softly bawl.  

“I’m sorry, Millie,” Draco whispered.  

The crowd around him began to slowly dissipate, casting long smirks at the feuding couple. All the whispers had begun to irritate Draco and not because Millie had made a circus of this. No. He was irritated because it was his own fault that the school would have a fresh set of gossip to share and add on to for the next week.  

He couldn’t fault her on that, even if he had expressed how much he valued privacy. Draco also valued promises and he hadn’t been able to do just that. He was a bloody hypocrite for it. 

Millie sniffled, her body quaking in her tears.  

“Sorry Millie,” Draco whispered again, rocking her slightly back and forth.  

Draco gently squeezed her truly sorry for forgetting about her as he inhaled her light soapy scent. He closed his eyes and rocked her gently wishing he could jump into her mind to see exactly how she had suffered to help him mend things faster. Within the next inhalation, he felt like he dove into a cloud of fuzz in her mind just as he thought of that certain incantation. The picture became clearer.  

A bracelet was what Millie was thinking about as well as her looking out her window, scanning the skies for an owl to bring her a long-awaited letter than never came.  

Draco found it odd that he was able to see in her mind without his wand in hand. Insane.  

“What did you say?” Millie asked, peeling herself off him to look him directly in his eyes. Draco's eyes flew open in surprise. 

“Nothing,” Draco said, blinking in amazement, too good to be true. He brought her in to his chest again and patted her head lovingly. “Nothing.”