Christmas Break
“Don’t do this, Draco.” Narcissa whispered.
They were sitting at the breakfast table, ignoring a bowl of scrambled eggs between them.
“I have to say something.” Draco muttered.
“No you don’t.”
“They’re going to find out soon enough that I can’t do it. It’s better to come clean.”
“Ask Severus, he’ll help you with this.”
“Not this time.”
“Draco, please, I can’t lose you too.” Narcissa whispered.
The door to the dining room opened and one of the death eaters walked in, looking pitifully around the room. “Master Malfoy, you wanted to speak with the dark lord? He will speak with you next week.”
“I will be escorted to him?” Draco asked, trying to sound strong.
“He will be arriving here.” The death eater said. “I hope you bring him good news, for your sake.”
“It is a shame Hermione couldn’t be here.” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m not sure where we’d put her in such a full house, but it seems odd, everyone here and not her.”
Ron and Harry were standing in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, Fred leaning over them, teasing. Ron was turning more red as Mrs. Weasley went on.
“That reminds me.” Fred said, pulling several envelopes from his jacket pocket, “we ran into her at the shop a few days ago, doing a bit of last minute shopping. She said she was sorry she couldn’t stop by, but there were too many family things this year. She told me to send these cards along, though.” He laid them on the table as he read out the names. “The Weasley Family, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley if he stops by. None for Fleur, no big surprise there. And I suppose you two and Ginny already got yours.”
“Yeah.” Harry said, watching Ron grimace.
“How lovely, I’ll put it on the mantle. I hope you were polite and said Happy Christmas from all of us.” Mrs. Weasley went into the living room with the cards .
“You two are having another fight aren’t you?” Fred leaned in and whispered.
“Shut up.” Ron spat.
“You should be careful, some day that girl’s going to realise just how good someone else is, compared to you.”
Fred let himself out the back door to go look for George. Ron sighed and went back to peeling potatoes. Harry watched his friend for a while before speaking.
“I think he’s right, you should apologise to Hermione. Make up already.”
“Why do I have to do it, she’s the one who’s overreacting.”
“It’s not like you’re innocent, Ron. You said a lot of mean things to her too during this feud. Besides, does it matter who’s fault it is? You’re unhappy without her, she’s unhappy without you. Just do it, before it gets worse, like Fred said.”
“But what about Lavender? She’d kill me if I just dumped her out of the blue. She’d probably cry.” Ron made a face.
“I’m not saying you have to go out with Hermione. Just apologise. Just be friends again. It’s driving me nuts having to deal with you two not talking, not even being in the same room.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll apologise when we get back to school.”
“Good.”
“Just cut the turkey, Dad.” Hermione said.
“We can wait a bit longer if you’d like, honey.”
“No, he isn’t coming.” Hermione sat at her family’s dining room table.
Her father had set out a fourth plate, in case Severus stopped by. He hadn’t said that he would, but Hermione had hoped he would anyway. She thought of him sitting all alone at Loch Cottage, or perhaps in his office at Hogwarts. Hopefully, Dumbledore would at least force him to come up to the feast.
Thinking on it, Snape hadn’t even mentioned where he was staying over Christmas break. Probably some other ridiculous plan about keeping Hermione “safe”. She sighed and scooped some cranberry sauce onto her plate. Or maybe he was at the Malfoy manner. It was a pleasant thought that maybe her dad was taking care of Draco instead of spending Christmas dinner with her.
“Well, for once I agree with that man.” Hermione’s mother said, taking more stuffing. “It’s much too dangerous for him to be coming to this house all the time. It completely defeats the purpose of trying to stay hidden.”
Hermione lowered her head and focussed on chewing her turkey adequately.
“Let’s just drop it.” Hermione’s step-dad said. Hermione’s home for Christmas, we’ve got this lovely bird, and the mashed potatoes really turned out well. I put a bit of rosemary in while they were cooking, can you taste it?”
Draco paced behind the heavy wood door, waiting for Lord Voldemort to speak with him. He was careful to keep his hands at his sides and not fidget, and to keep his mind and heart free from all emotions or thoughts. He just kept focussed on the matter at hand. Finally, one of the Death Eaters that often wandered around the Manor opened the door and waited for Draco to enter. Voldemort was perched on an antique wooden chair, surrounded by many of his more important minions, Wormtail at his right hand as usual.
“Draco Malfoy.” Voldemort’s voice was like broken glass. “You bring me good news of your efforts, I hope.”
Draco walked toward Voldemort slowly, then bent low and bowed on one knee. “I’m afraid I do not, My Lord.” Draco whispered. Slowly, he let his gaze rise not quite to Voldemort’s eyes, but close. “The truth is, My Lord, I wanted to speak with you today to tell you I cannot accomplish what you have asked me to do.”
“Is that so?” Voldemort didn’t move, just stared down at Draco. “You do not wish to serve your lord any more, Draco?”
“It isn’t that, my lord. It’s only, I can’t accomplish what you have asked.”
Voldemort’s red eyes dug into Draco’s skull.
“I’m sorry my lord, better wizards have tried to kill Dumbledore and failed. And even Borgin couldn’t fix the vanishing cabinet. I haven’t even done my NEWTs yet. The magic is just too difficult for me.”
“I tire of your excuses, Draco. Stop sniveling on the floor like a child.”
“I understand, my lord.” Draco looked up and swallowed. “I know that I have failed you and I accept the punishment.”
Voldemort looked at the death eaters flanking Draco, then looked at the small blonde boy in front of him. He let a high, short laugh leave his throat. Voldemort’s laughter grew to a fever pitch then stopped abruptly. “You are very eager to fall upon your sword, young Malfoy. No, if I wanted you dead, you would be already. What I want is for you to finish the task I have assigned you.”
“But, my Lord, I can’t. I already…”
“I find ‘can’t’ easily changes sides when I tell people they must. And you must do this for me, Draco, for I have no one else in Hogwarts to do it for me. And surely you don’t really want me to kill you. Leaving your mother all alone, with no one to take care of her. And that cute young thing you have waiting for you at Hogwarts. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anything happening to her.”
Draco fell silent and looked at the ground.
“Your occlumency is strong, that’s good. But surely you didn’t think you could keep everything from me, Draco?” Voldemort tisked. “You’ve kept her name and her face hidden well, but little bits of lovey mush keep bubbling up inside your head. You just can’t keep them down. I may not know who she is yet, nor do I much care. Don’t make me change that decision, Draco. Do as your lord commands you to do. Do this, and I promise, no harm will come to your mother or your young love.” Voldemort stood from his chair and stared down at Draco, still on his knees. “I will give you one more chance, Draco, just one. I don’t want to see you again unless you are either successful or succumbing to rigor mortis on the floor.”
Draco knelt lower on the floor bowing his head. “Yes, my lord. I understand.”
“Good.” Voldemort looked down on Draco for another moment, then turned to his other death eaters. “Wormtail, you are needed with me. Amycus, discipline Draco for this last outburst. Make sure it is something that sticks.”
Wormtail scurried out the door behind Voldemort, and the great wooden door closed, leaving the cloaked Death Eater staring down at Draco’s cowering body.