Chapter 2
The bitter coffee burned pleasantly at the back of Draco’s throat as he drank. He sighed heavily as he took another sip and cast an eye over the Prophet. Nothing of particular note – another front cover depicting Potter in his Auror robes arresting some nefarious figure. Draco rather thought he spied a Yaxley nose as he surveyed the profile of the figure in handcuffs. He threw the paper down on the oak table – there was nothing of any interest – and instead opted to look onto the sprawling street below his apartment. The view was a far cry from the manicured landscapes of the Manor, but as the dark sky began to brighten and he saw the beginnings of life in the form of joggers and dog-walkers emerging from the darkness, he felt far more at home than he ever had at the Manor.
His decision to purchase a flat in Muggle London had sparked an almighty row with his mother – who had wanted him to take over the mantle of Lord of the Manor following his father’s imprisonment. He couldn’t do it. Every spot of that place held a memory of the war, a memory he couldn’t connect to, and didn’t much want to. Much better to move somewhere new without the shadow of his past lurking around every corner. It helped that muggles had no idea who he was; there were no dirty looks or snide remarks as he walked to the pub. No spitting or crossing the road as he went for an evening jog. He was, in effect, anonymous. It was wonderful.
He longed for the same kind of irrelevance in the Wizarding World – as it was, despite having been pardoned for his actions on account of being sold to the Death Easters as a child soldier, people always had something to say. It was partly why he chose a career as an Unspeakable. Unspeakables were usually given a wide berth by other Ministry employees – which meant he could fairly easily go to work with minimal interference from others. The fact that Draco actually just really bloody enjoyed learning may have also been a contributing factor.
A sharp tap-tap-tap startled him from his reverie.
At the window he saw a round little owl perching on the windowsill. A wave of his wand and the window slid up, allowing the little bird entry. It hopped onto the dining table and shuffled towards Draco before sticking out its leg professionally. Draco carefully removed the roll of parchment, and fed the bird a few crumbs of his toast. It hooted softly in gratitude before stretching its wings and soaring out of the open window. Draco took a deep breath of the chilled air before unrolling the parchment.
Draco,
I hope this gets to you before you start work for the day! I had to get up at the most obscene time to make sure this owl had the time to fly from Scotland. I wasn’t sure that you’d appreciate a morning Floo call; I’m sure you’re probably nervous (you can admit it to me!)
I just wanted to say – GOOD LUCK.
Unspeakable Draco Malfoy. It makes you sound very dashing and mysterious! I’m sure your first day as a fully fledged Unspeakable will be very interesting (I say I’m sure but I’m just assuming that everything you lot study in that creepy place is exciting and/or dangerous). I’d say I’m looking forward to hearing all about it – but I’ll settle for a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ verdict.
Have you thought about using your mysterious new title as a way to attract the ladies? If it wasn’t for the fact I already know you’re a prat I’d find it all rather sexy. Perhaps you could try it at the Hogs Head. I’m sure there’s a hag or two you could chat up!
I’m going to go back to bed for a bit before lessons with the first years – I need my wits about me to stop them chopping off their fingers!
Best of luck Drake!
Miss you!
Pans x
A soft smile broke out across Draco’s stern features. Pansy always knew what he was thinking; it was frustrating as hell when they were together, but made her an excellent friend. She might not know exactly what he did with his days but she knew he’d finally finished his internship and was embarking on his Unspeakable career at last. He desperately wished he could tell her that his assignment might actually lead to a breakthrough on his condition – she’d be so pleased.
Draco was in a peculiar situation; years of occluding and a constant state of terror during the War had had an unusual side effect on him. Whilst he was able to remember the events of the war with almost total clarity, his near permanent state of occlusion meant he had no emotional connection with his memories. Whilst Draco remained fairly sure he didn’t want to experience those emotions again, Pansy (and his court-mandated Mind Healer) remained resolute that he wouldn’t be able to move forward fully until he had at least processed the trauma of those years.
When discussing possible future assignments with Bulder Draco had mentioned this unusual block to the Chief Unspeakable.
“It just so happens,” said the man with a dry tone, “that we are looking to undertake further research on the emotional component of memory magic. You would be an ideal researcher-cum-test subject Mr Malfoy.”
So it was decided – upon his graduation from the internship programme Draco would be working in the Memory Room. The hope was, he understood, that any success in solving his condition could be studied for work on those with magically induced memory losses. Perhaps, if Draco could help those people, he might finally feel worthy of participating in society once again.
He pushed his chair backwards and, with a flick of wrist, levitated his plate and mug into the sink where the scrubber danced happily in anticipation of washing to be done. He moved to his study to fire off a quick missive to Pansy – that he could send with his Eagle Owl, Endymion, before Floo-ing to the Ministry.
Pansy
My sincerest apologies that your beauty sleep was disturbed by my promotion. I do hope the first years aren’t too frightened by your natural state.
I’ll have you know I am always dashing and mysterious Pans. It’s part of my charm. Unfortunately Dashing Mysterious (ex)Death Eater doesn’t seem to do much for the ladies. Perhaps the hags you mentioned are less discerning than the women in London. Will consider.
Will give my verdict at days end.
Miss you always
Draco x
He tied the note to Endymion’s leg and fed the owl a treat. Endymion gazed at Draco for a moment, his large orange eyes reproaching his master for the long journey so early in the day.
“Sorry mate – but you know Pansy will spoil you with treats when you get there.”
Endymion hooted in agreement before taking his leave.
With little else to occupy him for the day Draco decided to make an early start at work. He would only be a couple of hours early – and best to set a good impression on his first day.
Draco arrived at the Ministry close to 6.30. There was no one around – which was just how Draco liked it. He marched through the empty Atrium – the heel of his dragonhide boots clicking with each step. He knew that Bulder wouldn’t be in the Department just yet – but thought he could settle into the Memory Room and perhaps get started on some preliminary research before his boss arrived.
He took a moment to explore the Room before taking a seat at one of the two mahogany desks on the far side. Despite the initial unnerving impression from the thousands of glowing phials glittering along the walls Draco found they lit the room quite nicely – and drew a few texts from the bookshelves above his desk.
Musing on Memory
Objectionable Obliviation: When Memory Charms go Wrong
Mind Healing: A Magical Approach to Muggle Methods
He lost himself quite easily as he took notes; he had found throughout his internship that a lot of Unspeakable research, especially in the early stages, involved book-reading and note-taking. You needed a thorough grounding before even attempting to devise spells and potions. Draco was reading an interesting chapter about Gilderoy Lockhart’s long-term spell damage when his methodical research was interrupted by …
“MALFOY?!”
He knew that voice.
He looked up, and sure enough, wearing a look of utter fury, with her bushy hair filling the doorway and crackling ominously, was Hermione Granger.
Well. Fuck.