The Vanishing Cabinet
The next morning, Draco woke up hangover-free like he always did, much to Pansy's annoyance. Then again, it really didn't take much to annoy Pansy in the mornings.
They kept their promise, and passed out hangover potions at the door before breakfast, taking great pleasure in loudly banging on the doors of students who didn't get up in time.
When they got to Paxton and Paige's door, they both paused, looking at each other. Draco raised his eyebrows in silent question.
Pansy leaned in and whispered, "First year initiation?"
Draco grinned, raising his wand, he cast a diagnostic spell, trying to figure out how exactly they locked it. He nearly threw his arms up in excitement when he saw it was only a simple locking charm. They were too trusting, oh well, they would learn. Pansy softly cast alohomora as Draco raised his foot.
He kicked the door open, as Pansy began shrieking in the background, he shouted, "GET UP THE LAKE IS ON FIRE!"
Paxton jumped so hard he fell out of bed screaming, and Paige managed to knock her head on the bedpost in her haste to stand.
"Ah Salazar's dick!" She shouted.
Draco gasped, placing his hand over his heart, "Paige! Language! As your prefect I cannot encourage such behavior!"
Paige glared at him, eerily reminiscent of her older cousin, "Prefect Malfoy, I've heard you say-"
Draco hurriedly slapped his hand over her mouth, "Well! Do as I say, Parkinson, not as I do. Anyways, there are children present." He said, waving his hand at where Paxton was still groaning on the floor.
He raised his head to glare at Draco, "I am two minutes younger."
Draco kneeled to pat his dark hair, "Ah, but still younger." He sprang up, grinning at Pansy, "They're all yours, Parkinson senior. I've got a meeting with Professor Snape before classes begin."
Pansy gave him a chastising look, "Firstly, call me that again, Draco, and I will kill you and dump your body in the lake. Secondly, you shouldn't skip breakfast on the first day of class. You'll get sick."
Paige and Paxton both turned to him with identically raised eyebrows, and he quickly began backtracking out of the room.
No, he was not running away, he was making a strategic retreat. "Don't worry, I'll get some food from the house elves later," He paused, "Or I'll steal some biscuits from the Professor." He turned and ran before Pansy could physically drag him down to the Great Hall.
On his way to meet Severus, he nearly knocked into Blasie, "Oh! There you are! You weren't in the room earlier."
Blaise sighed, "You're in a good mood, yell at some first years?"
Draco smirked, "As a matter of fact, I think Pansy and I accidentally gave Paige a concussion."
"Well, that would do it, I was down at breakfast." Blaise held up a steaming mug and a croissant wrapped in a napkin.
Draco looked into Blaise's eyes, placing both of his hands onto his shoulders, "Marry me."
Blaise rolled his eyes, shoving the coffee into his face, "That's the plan, in case you haven't noticed."
Draco leaned forward and kissed both of Blaise's cheeks, pulling away to continue out of the dungeons, "See you in potions!"
Slipping into the corridor, he walked down to where the head of house's private chambers were. He knocked on the door as a courtesy before shouldering his way into the room, just about to call out for his godfather when a wry voice spoke from deep within.
"In here, burdensome boy." Some invisible weight lifted from his shoulders at the sound of Severus' voice. Since the war had restarted, his godfather regularly disappeared for long intervals, and though his status as a spy was known in the upper circle, it never failed to make Draco sick with worry.
His father had chosen Severus as his godfather after the second war in an effort to help his case. Appointing a half-blood to the status of godfather for his only son was a huge help in getting his father acquitted in the Wizengamot. It made Draco slightly angry to think about now, but honestly, Draco would stand by as his father kicked puppies.
At least he was self aware.
"Professor! Looking chipper as always." His godfather in fact, did not look remotely chipper. In fact he looked quite like a man regretting every choice he'd ever made.
Severus sighed, "I trust that you had an . . . eventful night."
"The slytherins? Never. Lots of pre-emptive NEWTS study sessions and the like." Draco sat himself down into the chair across the desk, throwing his legs over the arm.
The professor looked at his position with distaste, nose wrinkling, but he also didn't ask Draco to move, so he must be in a good mood. "I trust my students have taken my shift in position with grace."
Now it was Draco's turn to grimace, remembering the amount of letters he had to field when that rumor had gotten around. It had made him slightly uncomfortable, the Dark Lord seeing how much the people in his house looked to him for guidance, but he supposed there were bigger problems.
"Ah, well, not everyone can understand our genius."
Another long sigh, this time paired with a doubtful look, "Draco, I trust you will ensure my students will continue to get satisfactory marks."
Draco turned to smile at his head of house, "You know I will, in between running the quidditch team and my prefect duties. Truly, my burden is too great for one man. Sisyphus would pale in the face of my-"
"Draco." His godfather's voice was severe, even more so than usual, and Draco sat straight immediately. He watched as Severus cast locking and silencing charms on the door, even though the front doors of his chambers were already warded. Draco's shoulders tensed and he arranged his face into the same cold mask he wore in meetings. He knew what they were discussing now, even if it felt utterly wrong to speak of it within the walls of Hogwarts. Draco supposed what he must do this year was even worse, but he had somehow been able to push his tasks from his mind. Now, it all came back, spreading through his body like an infection, possessing his limbs with someone who wasn't 16, and instead a hardened soldier, ready to carry out orders.
Someone who wasn't a coward.
"Your tasks . . .have you any idea how you will complete them?"
Draco thought about his answer. His godfather was a spy, yes, but Draco had no reason to believe he would risk his life delivering incomplete information. "Officially, no, I'm not any closer than I was a week ago. Unofficially, I'm following a promising lead, though it's still too new to confirm." He didn't say anything more than that.
Draco thought for a moment he saw something flash in his godfather's eyes, but he never really could tell what Severus was truly feeling when he wanted to hide it.
Severus wet his lips, pausing for a moment before speaking again, "And your second task?"
He frowned, surely Severus knew he couldn't answer that? Unless this was a test. Draco considered his godfather, he looked just as poised and imposing as usual, but then again if Draco had to wait for a change in his composure he'd die before he could get any information.
"I'm under strict instruction to not speak of my second assignment. You know that."
A muscle in Severus' mouth twitched, basically a fully fledged smile coming from him, "I know, Draco, but it's my duty as your godfather to ensure your wellbeing. I believe this falls under that purview."
Draco narrowed his eyes, Severus almost never referenced his status as Draco's godfather, given that it was mostly meant as a political arrangement. Something else was going on, something over his head.
Draco hated it, when things went over his head.
"Are you feeling alright, professor?" Draco asked.
His godfather titled his head, now examining Draco as Draco was examining him, "Of course, why would I not be?"
Draco forced a smile, "No reason, just thought I'd ask, inquire as to your emotional well-being. I'm told it's what normal people do, but I'm finding it a bit tedious."
His godfather sighed, though this time there was a tinge of amusement, "Vain boy," He cast a quick tempus charm, "You've missed breakfast," He said chidingly.
"Ugh, you sound like Pansy." He said, getting up.
Severus pulled a quite frankly hilarious look of disgust, "Leave."
Draco saluted, "Yessir, professor."
—-------------------------
Draco had missed breakfast, and Pansy gave him a very hurtful kick in the shins before defense for it. Draco truly was excited for this year, now that they had a competent professor. Lupin hadn't been bad, but the man had been horribly gryffindor.
Dumbeldore and McGonagall could preach about house unity all they liked, any slytherin knew it was all complete shit. Every slytherin learned in due time that prejudice was actually quite acceptable, if directed correctly.
When Severus walked into class, Draco had to physically restrain himself from laughing at the look on Potter's face. He looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. It was great.
Draco could do wordless magic easily. Always could, even as a kid. Draco also knew, however, that if he suddenly was doing much better in defense, when his head of house was appointed, that the rest of the school, and specifically Potter, would have his head for nepotism. Draco loved to show off, but he drew the line at throwing his slytherin's under the bus to do it. So he held back, did the bare minimum to achieve top marks as he usually did. The only one who looked even close to his level was Potter, who was still staring daggers at him. He even twisted in his seat to do it, contorting his whole body to see behind him. Draco ignored him, which he knew would infuriate Potter more than any taunt.
When class ended, with Potter losing a very satisfying amount of house points for gryffindor, Draco practically ran to the dungeons. Pansy tried catching his eye, and when that failed, his arm, to explain, but Draco wasn't in the mood to deny her, so instead he ignored her. He passed Blaise too, but they really didn't interact outside of the common room.
Their engagement wasn't very good for public image. The rest of wizarding society was beginning to balk at arranged marriages, plus, he wanted to capitalize on the 'eligible young bachelor to a large fortune' thing for as long as possible. So he and Blaise were waiting to announce themselves. They hadn't really discussed an exact time, but Draco assumed it would be sometime during seventh year like his parents. That way the society pages would be able to reasonably argue that it wasn't arranged, besides, everyone loved a good love story.
Basically storming into the dungeons, he blew past everyone who tried to greet him, throwing himself into his room and ripping off his outer robes and bag. He was so busy, that he entirely failed to see his fiancé, entering behind him and watching Draco with amused eyes.
"Eager, are we?"
Draco turned mid-disrobement, narrowly avoiding falling flat on his face by instead falling onto his bed, "Blaise! What are you doing here?"
His friend raised a singular eyebrow, "I live here, Draco."
Draco's mouth lifted into a nearly entirely unconscious smile, "You know what I mean, you have muggle studies this block."
"Oh, Do I? Well, in any case I'm setting the tone. Can't have people thinking I care about my marks"
Draco nodded, understanding the necessity of reputation, he himself made sure he was never seen doing homework, or studying, or reading in general. He gathered his things now, all in a separate, enchanted bag with an extending charm he used for personal projects, "Ah, well. I'm off, see you in potions."
Blaise didn't ask him where he was going, they didn't ask many questions of each other as a general rule. The less they knew about the other's business the better.
Hurrying back out of his room, he comes face to face with Pansy, who has no such rule.
Nosy cow, he thinks fondly.
" Where are you going?" She demands.
"Project, Pans. You know how it is." He's nearly bobbing on his feet, only years of social training keeping him still.
She surveys him for a moment, knowing better than to ask for specifics, she simply steps aside. He gives her hand a squeeze as he passes, just to reassure her.
He needs to get to the room of requirement, he has limited amount of time to actually work on the cabinet, and quidditch tryouts were tonight, eating into already vital time. He thinks he might be making progress, but he needed to confirm some things.
When he finally gets to the room of requirement, he waits.
He watched the corridor to see if anyone would come before actually opening it, reveling in the secrecy of it all. Sneaking around, it almost felt like he was a child again, exploring the secrets of Hogwarts and wandering the halls alone.
He ducks into the room, feeling the door close behind him. The tension bleeds from his shoulders, feeling at peace for a moment. In this room, Draco is not Draco Malfoy, he's just Draco. Another lost thing hiding among the piles.
The chaos of the room of requirement makes it hard to navigate, but he loves it dearly. Sometimes, it didn't feel right for the world to still be so structured. When he felt like his mind was being pulled apart at the seams, and he was woken in the small hours of the night with night terrors so potent he can still feel the tail end of a scream in his throat. He didn't want to go to class and escort first years and make sure they had a chance at the cup this year. Half the time, he was barely resisting the urge to scream, to just get up and walk away, leaving it all behind. With the way things were heading, a Hogwarts education was seeming less and less worth it.
With the way things were heading, Draco would die before he could use it.
The sobering thought reminded him of his purpose, and he quickly made his way through the alleys of forgotten objects. He hoped to find time to pick through all the piles, to see and feel and read all the things people wanted so desperately to hide, but he couldn't today.
Sitting in front of the cabinet, Draco hears something fall. He whips his head around, trying to find the noise, but nothing appears. He holds himself still, barely breathing.
When a few moments passed, Draco forced himself to relax. The mountains of trash were so perilous, his breathing probably caused one to fall over.
Taking a book out of his bag, he crossed his leg, gnawing gently on the end of his wand before remembering the snacks he also stashed in the bag. He rummaged around for a moment before turning up triumphant with a few blood-flavoured lollipops. Popping one in his mouth, he opened his book on warding.
As far as he suspected, the cabinet in front of him was attached to another in Bourgin and Burkes. How exactly he would get the cabinets to form a working passageway still eluded him however. He thought it might lie in the wards, hence the book, but there had to be more. Similar wards didn't mean that you could just travel between two places.
Two places.
That was it.
He sat straight, diving for his bag, which also had an advanced arithmancy text book in it. It wasn't for class, more just some light reading, but something had caught in his brain.
What if it wasn't two places. Just a singular place, stretched between two points.
Scanning through the book quickly, he paused when he found the proper chapter. A modified duplication charm, very powerful, and very theoretical, concept, but exactly what he needed.
If the cabinets were really a singular cabinet, it would explain how someone could travel between them, because they weren't traveling, just shifting. He hurriedly stood up, searching the cabinet in front of him.
Eventually, he found it. A small scratch he had accidentally made when transporting the other cabinet to the shop in Knockturn. There was no reason for the same scratch to be on this cabinet, which had presumably never left Hogwarts. It was arithmancy he needed, not wards. He didn't bother trying to hold back his grin. He could really do this.
Oh Merlin. He could really do this.
He could let the death eater's into Hogwarts.
Oh Merlin what has he done?
He knows now. He can't forget. If anyone were to look into his mind, get past his occlumency shields, they would know too. The Dark Lord had torn his mind apart for less.
Would he really do this? Let them into Hogwarts, let them kill his classmates? Put Blaise and Pansy and Greg and Vince in danger?
But if he didn't, he'd be signing his family's death warrant. He was a Malfoy before anything else.
But wasn't Blasie also family? The Zabini's weren't death eater's, not even close, if Hogwarts really did fall, he wouldn't be able to guarantee his fiancé's safety.
It just felt wrong to risk it.
But was it really a choice he could make?
He walked backwards until he could feel his back hit something, letting his knees collapse. He still had time. Just because he knew the cabinet's could be fixed doesn't mean he could actually fix them. Maybe he would fail after all.
Draco has only ever failed at one thing in his entire life, and that was making friends with Harry Potter. Which, honestly he thinks he dodged a bullet with that one, because Potter's the emotional equivalent of a chihuahua with bad hair and glasses, but he digressed.
Draco didn't like failing, so he didn't do it. Simple as that. But now that the stakes were high, apparently his faulty moral compass that he thought he had buried years ago, made him want to fail.
He was a Malfoy for Salazar's sake! Malfoy's didn't fail!
Unless . . .
Unless the benefits outweighed the risks.
That was it, he could do that. People did it all the time, especially in government, pretending to care, while really letting a law die.
Simple cost-benefit analysis. He had been doing those since before he could walk. Ok. Problem solved. He would wait, try fixing the cabinet, and weigh both sides.
If only his other problems could be solved so easily.
He stayed in the room of requirement for a little longer, he didn't particularly care much about missing potions, he could probably take the NEWT right now and pass. Having Severus as his godfather really did wonders for his practical abilities.
And he wasn't sure how well his newfound resolve would stand against actually seeing the lives he would be risking, should he complete his task.
He wondered, thoughts tinged with the remnants of panic induced hysteria, if he submitted the cabinets for academic review, if he could get his arithmancy mastery.
Now if only Granger would stop reading so much, he might have a shot at top of their class.