The Grandmaster
Chapter 10: The Grandmaster
Draco was scared. But that wasn’t the word, no— terrified . That was it. That night at the gala had made everything his father had said so much more real. He wasn’t just an eleven year old First Year at a party with his parents and friends. He was the son of the top Death Eater and surrounded by Voldemort’s inner circle.
Every night since the gala, Draco would wake up in a cold sweat, tears welling in his eyes. The faces of those men staring at him—into his soul—and he would wake just before they reached him. He didn’t want that life. He didn’t want to ‘follow in his father’s footsteps’ as Lucius had put it.
Lucius and those men never returned to the party that evening. His mother had simply chalked it up to ‘business’ to save face, but they both knew what had happened.
Theo stayed with Draco and Narcissa for the remainder of winter hols, due to his father also having mysteriously disappeared. Narcissa was overjoyed to have another young boy to fuss over and she filled their mornings with tea and biscuits—letting the boys play and wander to their hearts’ content. She didn’t even scold them for their lack of manners some days, and that told Draco all he needed to know. Something was coming. Something bad.
…
The day after they returned to Hogwarts, Draco went to Snape's office to give him a report of everything the boys had discovered over the holidays. He seemed unaffected by the Zabini family’s choice, nor was he shocked that Lucius had informed Draco of his new ‘role’ to play.
What did catch the Potions Master by surprise was that there was such a public display of the Death Eaters re-grouping. Draco had known that’s what was happening, but he had hoped he would be wrong considering his father never returned to the party, nor the Manor.
Snape was certain his father was making a semi-public stand to appease the more hard-core Death Eaters and retain his rank, without actually going so public that he would end up in the DailyProphet. Lucius was walking a very fine line indeed, and Draco was becoming more and more aware how difficult it was going to be to play both sides. His fathers words came back to him: ‘allies come often in unexpected packages’.
“Do you really think my father will be able to hide his true alliances?” Draco couldn’t help but let the fear creep into his voice. He would normally never let his emotions show, but they seemed to be oozing from every pore and he couldn’t plug each one.
“I think, Mister Malfoy, that your father is very good at what he does…” Snape paused for a moment, searching Draco’s face, then reached down and pulled up the left sleeve of his pitch black cloak.
Draco’s eyes went wide in shock at what he saw.
…
Severus Snape certainly seemed the type to dabble in Dark Arts—he was a Potions Master and head of Slytherin house after all. Between his greasy black hair and his onyx colored eyes, he looked the part—always wearing black robes and the like.
Draco was not taken aback by the suggestion his favorite Professor had connections to the Dark Arts, in fact most of the adults he knew and associated with, did as well. What he was stunned by was the fact that Dumbledore had hired a marked Death Eater to teach young children at Hogwarts.
Snape made it very clear that he, too, had turned spy just before the Potters were killed. He did not go into any further detail, but told Draco plainly that Dumbledore was well-aware of his and Lucius’s true allegiance and used their false ones to his own advantage in securing information.
Draco no longer had any questions as to what the nature of Severus Snape’s business dealings were with his father. It was clear they spent a great deal of time playing double agent together. Snape had been the one to bring Lucius to Dumbledore in the end.
The younger Malfoy wasn’t sure how to respond to his professor’s secret, so he hurriedly left the Potion Master’s office in favor of an evening in the library. He hadn’t planned on running into her , but he supposed he was on her territory now and it couldn’t be helped.
Naturally, Granger was sitting in her favorite spot, facing his own in the window. He peered around the side of a large bookcase to make sure there was no one else present—and of course there wasn’t.
He slunk into his own seat, avoiding eye contact, and just watched the wind swirl the snowflakes through the dark evening air. It was mesmerizing, and he found himself daydreaming about what his father and Snape had gone through during the Great Wizarding War.
Draco tried to picture himself as one of them. He pictured an inky black mass engulfing his arm, stark against his pale skin. He shivered involuntarily—he could never let that happen. He would never even pretend to be one of them. Just the thought of it made bile rise up in his throat.
“Malfoy? What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at the Welcome Back feast?” A tiny voice squeaked. Granger .
“Just wanting to be alone with my thoughts, Granger. What’s it to you?” He nearly sneered but caught himself thinking better of it.
“Oh…” He barely heard her sounds and hoped she would just let it go for now. “My mum always says people like me—like us,” she pointed between herself and Draco, “shouldn’t be left alone with our thoughts. We over analyze and let our minds get the better of us.”
The blonde boy wasn’t sure how to react to her declaration that they were even remotely similar. He supposed they were though, in a way—very clever and often trapped in their own minds. Her mother was certainly wise to dissuade someone like them from solitude.
“Solitude, isolation, are painful things and beyond human endurance,” Draco quoted offhandedly.
“Jules Verne,” she whispered with astonishment and a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You know him?”
“I grew up in the Wizarding world, not under a rock, Granger. Theo and I love 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” he rolled his eyes, “and a great many other Muggle titles I’ve read to spit in the face of our obnoxious families.” Draco added the last bit in, lying in attempt to increase her astonishment. It worked, and he struggled to hide his growing smile. In truth he had read Verne, but once Theo’s father had discovered the book, it was quickly confiscated and burned in front of them, followed by a harsh beating for his friend and a stern discussion about Muggles from his father.
“So you’re a rebel then?” She laughed and his stomach swooped at the sounds. What the bloody hell was that?!
“I wouldn’t call it that—more like an act of defiance that our parents would never really find out about…no real danger of any repercussions.” Why am I telling her any of this?
She nodded in response and nibbled on the end of her quill in thought. “Why do you want to defy your parents?”
“Let’s just say I wanted to make some decisions for myself.” Merlin! Just stop talking!
Confusion flooded her features, “don’t you get to do whatever you want, though? I’ve heard your family is quite wealthy.”
Don’t respond, just walk away…too late . He couldn’t help himself—the oncoming rant building up inside him.
“Ha! You could say that. The Malfoy name is one of both the highest prestige and great wealth, we are also constantly in the eye of all of Wizarding society. I’ve been trained and molded into the “perfect Malfoy heir” with perfect manners, social skills, and the like. Someday I will be entered into a marriage contract and produce the next Malfoy heir and the cycle will continue.” His face slowly fell farther and farther as he spoke, until all that was left was a blank slate. Empty.
Draco had never really said that out loud to anyone before—not even Theo or Blaise. They all lived the same way, so there was no reason to talk about it. He also hadn’t realized just how much he didn’t want any of that. Sure, he wanted to live comfortably, but he had always thought he would be able to make a name for himself—choose his own path. Speaking it out loud only made him realize one thing—he would never be able to choose his future. Not a single detail.
“Draco…” her pity fell on deaf ears. He was already standing up, gathering his things.
…
Draco was decidedly in a horrendous mood the rest of the week. He took to avoiding the library at all costs seeing how she would undoubtedly be there. He took to wandering the castle, occasionally accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle or Pansy and Theo.
Vince and Greg had quickly become school bullies—taking notes from Marcus Flint—they snatched any sweets or baubles they found from other unsuspecting First Years. Pansy was still avoiding Daphne and Tracey, which made the common room rather uncomfortable to be in for too long as the latter two had decided to spend all of their free time there to force Pansy to talk to them. It hadn’t worked yet. Theo just liked to wander the halls, exploring random classrooms and corridors.
Draco enjoyed Theo’s company the most, as he too loved to explore new corners of the castle. One morning, the boys thought they might explore the grounds, but didn’t make it farther than a few steps past the courtyard before being entrenched in mud.
They quickly mucked back into the courtyard, Theo kept watch for Filch and Peeves while Draco Scourgify ’ed they’re robes and shoes. With clean clothes, they returned to wandering the halls. they had slowly traipsed up the Grand Staircase and taken a turn down the third floor. Draco hadn’t realized which corridor they had walked down until he spotted the entrance to the library before him. Frustration flared up inside him—he still hadn’t brought himself to process his most recent epiphany. He felt a sudden loss of control, which he supposed he never had much of to begin with.
Unfortunately for Longbottom, the squat boy came barreling out of the library and right into Draco. Before he could calm himself, the blonde Slytherin felt his wand hand twitch as it raised it to his cowering classmate.
Locomotor Mortis!
The look of shock and fear on his face made Draco want to throw up. He hadn’t really known what he was doing—so caught up in his own anger and frustration, but thankfully it was just a Leg-Locker curse. He thought about apologizing and performing the counter-curse when his father’s words echoed back in his mind.
He had a part to play.
“Thanks, Longbottom, I’ve been looking for someone to practice that on.” Draco’s lip curled into his now characteristic smirk. “Best hop along, then. Go find a real Gryffindor to undo that.”
The boy was nearly in tears, but the Slytherins only strode away, concealing their inner turmoil behind masks of entertained pleasure at his misery.
When they were clear of Longbottom, Draco let out the breath he had been holding, and Theo placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The blonde broke out into soft, quiet sobs, trying not to bring attention to himself lest other students see him being weak.
Theo knew, as did Blaise, that Draco had just wanted to make friends and enjoy his time at Hogwarts away from his parents’ prying eyes—they all had. Now, they had been forced into pretending to be the bad guys with no redemption in sight and it would undoubtedly take its toll on all of them.
Draco rubbed his palms into his eyes, pushing back any tears that threatened to fall. The boys silently decided to climb as many staircases as they could. Once they couldn’t go any higher, they found themselves at the entrance to the Astronomy Tower.
It was odd being here during the daytime, but the boys felt a sense of calm as they climbed the final steps to the top of the tower. It would be empty during the day as their classes were usually only held at midnight, and Draco gulped in lungfuls of fresh air.
Their heartbeats slowed as they looked out at the views around them. The sun had finally broken through the thick layers of clouds covering the sky. It shone brightly across the shimmering sea of green grasses of the highlands. It was peaceful. A few owls came and went, leaving on and returning from their journeys.
Theo and Draco sat above the world for a long while, not even worried about missing a class or an opportunity to finish some homework. They just enjoyed the silence, soaking in the feeling of calm and tucking it away for the torrents of chaos that would assuredly come for them.
Whisps of pink and orange began to tint the horizon, and the two Slytherins sighed longingly for more time.
“Don’t think we could just stay up here, do you?”
“No, Theo, I don’t suppose we can, though it does feel like the only place in the castle that I can breathe now.” Draco sighed again, but turned to follow the talk, brunette back down the steps of the tower.
…
When Draco arrived in the Great Hall for dinner, a letter appeared at his usual place setting. It was closed with a golden seal and stamped with a Phoenix sigil. He looked around him to see if anyone else had received one, but apparently not.
Draco gently peeled open the envelope and pulled out the small, thick piece of parchment.
Mr. Draco Malfoy,
I request your presence to a private meeting in my office, this evening just after dinner. Licorice Wand
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
He quickly folded the parchment back into the envelope and tucked it into his robes. Draco tried not to think about the letter smashed into the pocket of his school robes. He found himself nervously touching it as he tried to keep a conversation going with Blaise about Quidditch. But even that topic couldn’t keep his brain distracted.
Finally, they had finished eating and Draco pushed up from the table, racing to Dumbledore’s office. He stood outside the entrance staring at the large gargoyle he knew to be guarding the office. How was he supposed to get it, perhaps Dumbledore would meet him inside?
The young Malfoy took the letter back out and stared at the parchment for a moment. Licorice wand? Is that the password? Knowing that old fool, I’m sure it is.
“Licorice wand,” Draco stated to the statue. The gargoyle began to rise and turn slowly as a winding staircase appeared. He quickly jumped on and rode the moving stone steps to the top of the tower where a door appeared. He knocked twice and waited.
“Come in,” the older wizard called.
Draco stepped into the Headmaster’s office tentatively, not really sure of what to expect.
“Draco, how wonderful of you to join me tonight!” He smiled down at the young boy, eyes twinkling bright.
“Headmaster, you sent for me?” The young Slytherin was hoping for a quick explanation, and one that would not get him into trouble. Perhaps he found out about the Leg-Locking curse on Longbottom? He’d be sent home for sure!
“Not to worry, harmless pranks are just that, pranks,” the Headmaster nodded knowingly with a wink. “How are your studies so far this year? I hear you’re near the top of your class.”
“Y-yes, Sir, I am second just after Hermione Granger.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Granger is rather bright. Lots of potential, I believe. You as well have great potential, Mister Malfoy.” He looked at Draco then, as if he could see inside his mind and all the way through to his soul.
It was unnerving, not knowing what he had been called here for. Especially with the Headmaster making pointless small talk.
“I’m aware you are wondering why I summoned you here, Draco. Indeed, I did not wish to simply chat, although I am glad to hear your classes are going well. I have a few rather delicate things to discuss with you, as I’m sure you can guess, the first being what you know about the Philosopher’s Stone.” Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles expectantly.
Draco gulped. Had Snape sold him out? Were Blaise and Theo going to be in trouble as well?
“Well, Sir, you see—it was an accident—“
“Not to worry, my boy, you are not in trouble. I merely need to know what you know.”
“Oh, um—well, we looked through the door on the third-floor corridor and saw the three-headed dog guarding the trap door. We know someone tried to steal the Philosopher’s Stone from Gringotts, so we deduced it was now being kept under guard here.”
“Right you are, Mister Malfoy. Are you aware of any others who know this information?”
Draco nodded but did not elaborate.
“Friends of yours, I presume?”
“Sir, I will not incriminate my friends if they are involved,” Draco quietly, but firmly stated.
“I understand. Are you aware that Mr. Potter and his friends have also found out the same secrets?” Dumbledore inquired.
“Yes, Sir,” Draco kept his face stoic and did not give any more away. Even
“My boy, I am not here to get anyone into trouble. Anything you say in my office will remain here, understood?”
Draco released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He looked up at the old man, “I pointed Granger to the information on Nicolas Flamel over the winter holidays. We also inadvertently sent them to the third-floor corridor when they were supposed to be in the Trophy Room.”
Dumbledore clapped his hands together, “Wonderful, Draco! Brilliant!” Draco was dumbstruck by the outburst.
“Sir?”
“You clever boy! Now, Professor Snape has been informing me of your new duties. I must say, I can’t condone any bullying but I may turn a blind eye to innocent pranks. Unfortunately I fear there may come a time when innocent pranks will not be sufficient for you to keep your cover.”
Draco’s eyes grew wide.
“Since the moment Professor Snape came to me with concerns of his Dark Mark burning again, I knew we had little time before Lord Voldemort attempted to return. I began to compile an exhaustive list of ways he could do so. I began to look into the most obvious choice—so I wrote to my friend, Mr. Flamel, to make sure the Stone would be kept safe. He had it transferred to a high security vault at Gringotts, where Hagrid retrieved it for me. Thankfully the transfer was made just in time, with the break-in occurring later that very day. The professors I trust most, and myself, have created our greatest and cleverest attempts at protecting the Philosopher’s Stone.”
The blonde young wizard stared coolly back at Dumbledore—his brain whizzing and whirring like the cogs in a clock.
“Wouldn’t someone notice, though, if Voldemort just walked in the front door of Hogwarts?”
“Ah, there lies the true question. Would they?” Dumbledore’s twinkle dulled slightly, but Draco still noticed. “Sometimes it is not the wisest move to take the Queen, Draco. Sometimes, the only way to Checkmate is by playing the pawns.”
Chess?Great. Where’s Theo when you need him…
Dumbledore did not elaborate but merely walked slowly around the edge of the room, as if he was inspecting his many gadgets and items strewn about on desks and shelves. Finally it clicked.
“He’s already here, isn’t he Professor.” It wasn’t a question. Draco knew the answer—the reason Snape was so suspicious and watchful of Professor Quirrell. “But hasn’t Professor Quirrell been at his post for years?”
The Headmaster turned on his heel and approached Draco with startling speed. His sparkling blue eyes met Draco’s with a delighted excitement. “Yes! I had inquired about his Sabbatical before he left last year and it seemed his goal was, in fact, to find Lord Voldemort to attain great notoriety.”
“And you think he found him?”
“I do.”
“And you let him TEACH CHILDREN?!” Draco was furious. So much for Hogwarts being “safe”. Clearly the old man had lost his ever-loving mind! It was a wonder they weren’t all dead already!
“I let Professor Quirrell teach. Lord Voldemort is not strong enough for more than whispers of ideas. I suspect he is somehow inhabiting Professor Quirrell’s body—under his turban if I had to take a guess,” he replied calmly.
“Well, what do you intend to do about it?” Draco demanded.
The Headmaster simply chuckled. “Straight to the finish then, you’re so much like your father, but with your mother’s heart,” he said fondly. “I intend to test a theory. Young Mr. Potter, with his penchant for trouble, will most certainly find himself beneath the trapdoor and with the Philosopher’s Stone in hand soon enough. When he does, I believe Professor Quirrell will have already beat him to the punch as he is much more skilled, and has had the advantage of time to maneuver past the obstacles set in place.”
“So you know that Potter is going to try to get the Stone—“
“Only to stop Voldemort from getting it first.” Dumbledore interrupted as he nodded along.
“—and that Voldemort will be there waiting for him…to try to kill him again and take the Stone? That’s insane !”
“Insane it may be, but I need to see if my working theory about the protections Harry has are correct. Besides, there will be a failsafe in case something…unexpected…were to happen. Now, I have talked your ear off long enough, I dare say it is time for bed! Straight to the dormitories, then! Any further information I shall pass through Severus for you.”
His voice held a tone of finality, and Draco was so turned around in his own thoughts he dumbly nodded and ambled down to the dungeons.