Winter's Flame

Draco stared in distaste at the row of dirty houses before him. Lupin looked down at him. "Ready?"

The young werewolf cocked an eyebrow at the older one. "I'd sooner have a vampire chewing on my neck. Couldn't I have just stayed home and looked after the magical weapons of mass destruction?"

Remus shook his head. "We already cleared the manor, Draco. There's nothing remotely dangerous left."

"I take it you didn't look at Grandfather Demetrius' underwear collection, then?"

Remus gave him a funny look and prodded him forward. "You'll be fine, Draco. Severus and Professor Dumbledore have already agreed to allow you inside."

"Inside some place filled with people who want to kill my family? Are you insane? Potter's in there and he wants to murder me."

"I thought you weren't afraid of Pot- of Harry?"

Draco fixed him with a stare. "He almost kicked the Dark Lord's ass. I'm only admitting this to you; I wouldn't feel too confident in a one on one unless it involved swords and a distinct lack of magic or bang things. Fists I could handle. Bang things I could not."

Remus struggled to hide a smile. "Bang things?"

"You know, those Muggle things that go… bang? That Californian president man plays with them. Conan, or something?"

Lupin burst out laughing, then checked himself, looking around guiltily. "You don't know much about Muggles, Draco. Now calm down, nobody's going to kill you. Just keep quiet and don’t make a spectacle of yourself. I'll be busy with meetings. And by Jove, do not say anything about Hermione. Even if you're trying to be nice."

Draco sighed. "I'll pretend I'm a mute. Now which house is it?"

Lupin handed him a piece of paper. "Read it, then remember it."

Draco glanced down. The Order of the Phoenix can be found at number 12, Grimmauld Place. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Remus. "The Order of the Phoenix?" Weenix more like. …God, that even sounded lame in my own brain.

Lupin nodded. "Now think about those words."

Draco rolled his eyes and thought of the words he'd just read, picturing the rather grimy piece of paper in his mind. Before his eyes, a door appeared in between numbers eleven and thirteen, pushing the two houses to the side. "Nice," he nodded. "I'm going to die in a dingy little house hidden between two walls."

"Don't be so dramatic," Remus sighed, pushing him forward and opening the door. Draco quickly proceeded to trip over a crazy looking hatstand, yelping with surprise as he fell into the darkness of the house.

"Shh!" Remus stressed as he stopped the stand from falling. He waited with bated breath for a moment, then sighed with relief. "She mustn't have heard. Be careful when you're around here."

"Though' she was gonna start bloody screaming again, hey?" an odd little shape on the stairs spoke up. It stood and clicked on the light, revealing itself as a little man with small eyes and a rather large nose. The man was oddly familiar, though Draco couldn't place him.

"Why is he sitting in the dark?" Draco muttered to Remus.

"Dung," his guardian laughed, shaking hands with the little man. "What are you doing?"

"Molly's un'appy with me," the man admitted. "Sold 'er sons something I shouldn' 'ave. Apparently." He raised his gaze to rest on Draco. "'Ere, you're a Malfoy."

Suddenly Draco recognised him as the man who'd nicked off with all the family's trophy's a few months ago. "No, I'm a bowl of soup. Get a good price for my trophy's?"

Dung rubbed his back, eyeing the boy warily. "Might 'ave. Why?"

"Well, shouldn't I be entitled to half of it? Being my family heirlooms and all."

Dung scratched his lower lip. "Only if they was your trophy's, which they wasn't."

Draco leaned back against the banister. "Actually, my junior swimming cup was missing."

"That weren't the ruddy great silver one, was it?"

"Might have been. Sell it?"

"Might 'ave done."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Mundungus Fletcher, I see you're acquainted with Draco Malfoy. Draco, come with me before you get involved with something illegal." Dung waved as Remus pulled Draco away down the dark halls until they reached what looked like the kitchen.

"Hey!" he exclaimed as they passed a large family tree on the wall. "There's me! Who's house is this?"

"Sirius' parents. Stop dallying."

"Remus!" a loud voice boomed. Draco inwardly groaned as Weasley's rather fat mother bounded into the room. "There you are! The meeting's about to begin without you! Severus is here with a report and Albus has just shown-" she stopped suddenly as she noticed him. "Oh. Hello, dear," she smiled quickly, turning back to Remus. "We need you in here to help sort out some information. Bill's trying to sort out some…" she glanced at Draco again. "Well, come on then."

Remus turned back to Draco as he was led off. "Don't cause any trouble. There's a piano in Sirius' room, up the stairs and third on the left. I'll be out soon."

"Trust you to know where it is!" he called back, earning a hasty dark look.

Draco watched him leave with a smile, then sighed, falling heavily into a couch.

"What is this?" a dry voice rasped from behind him. A tiny bent figure shuffled out of the shadows, dragging a long blunt object behind him.
Draco gasped and jumped up. "What the hell are you?"

The twisted little house elf dropped the handle of the axe and sat on it, gazing up at Draco. "It looks like a pure-blood, but smells like a wolf. Oh, my poor mistress. More wolves, they will kill poor Kreacher and eat him. Not stuff his head and mount it. Oh, my poor mistress. No wall for Kreacher."

Draco backed away from the odd little elf. "Are you… alright?"

"It speaks to me, mistress, but what does it say? Oh, wolves, wolves, there was another one here before. They will eat mistress, then eat poor Kreacher."

Draco stared at it for a moment, eyed the axe it was sitting on, then decided it a good moment to go and find that piano.

He wondered at his predicament as he slowly mounted the carpeted staircase. Lupin had apparated in his room only two hours ago to urge him to get out of bed and onto the Knight Bus. Still half asleep and exhausted from what could only be described as a less than cheerful night, he'd thrown on some clothes and climbed into the hideous purple double-decker bus, only to find himself in a dusty house surrounded by Dumbledore supporters. And while he recognised that this was the perfect time to begin his 'task', as the schizophrenic Lord Voldemort put it, he was well aware that Potter was out for his blood. And an angry Potter, as he had seen before, was not a safe thing. Nor was he likely to follow Draco anywhere.

BANG! A pair of hands grabbed him roughly from behind. "What do you think you're doing here, Malfoy?" one of the Weasley twins sneered at him.

BANG! The other one appeared on the other side of him, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. Draco clenched his jaw to keep himself from responding. Any wrong moves in this house would most probably get him killed.

"I asked you a question, Malfoy," the first twin said, a malicious glint in his blue eyes. "Didn't I, Fred?"

"Yeah, George, you did," Fred grinned, his hands still tightly holding Draco's black shirt. "And if he doesn't answer, you can't get expelled for kicking his head in!"

"The benefits of being independent," George nodded.

"In that case I can't get expelled for transfiguring you into a turnip," Draco muttered.

"What was that, Malfoy?" George asked, clenching his neck tighter. "I couldn't hear you."

"Let me go," he ordered, trying to keep his cool.

"Why? How did the son of a Death Eater get inside here, anyway?" Fred demanded.

"I'm here with a friend. Remus. He brought me."

George glared at him. "Why would he do that?"

Draco shrugged. "He didn't tell me why. He just dragged me here."

"Probably to torture You-Know-Who's location out of you," Fred suggested enthusiastically. "You always were a nasty little toerag and now they're going to kill you."

"They wouldn't let him wander around alone if he was here under arrest," George shook his head mournfully.

"Dumbledore knows I'm here, if that helps," Draco offered, making up his mind to be irritatingly nice to the red haired predators. If nothing else, he could annoy them once more before he was brutally murdered.

"Put him down," a dull voice drawled from the stairs. Snape stood statue still, his shining black eyes angrily regarding them.

Despite his not being their teacher anymore, Fred and George released Draco instantly and took a step backwards.

"It's pleasing to see that you still know your place," he said in an offending tone as he could muster. The twins eyes flashed.

"We were welcoming Malfoy to the Order, Professor," Fred said. "We'd do the same for anybody."

"Well forgive me, but I don't suppose Miss Granger would fancy being thrown against a wall once we find her. But then again, perhaps she might. I need to speak with Mr Malfoy alone."

"About what?" George ventured to ask.

"That," Snape snapped, "does not concern you. As a member of the Order, you should respect the privacy of the other members. Besides, your brother wants you."

Torn between being the obnoxious pranksters they were best known as and living up to the standards Dumbledore expected from the Order, the Weasley twins sighed and retreated down the stairs.

Snape silently moved into one of the rooms along the hall and disappeared inside. After a moment, Draco followed him.

"Close the door," Snape ordered, and Draco did so, noticing that there were in what looked like an office. Snape stood, nodding to the chair at the desk. "Sit down."

Draco shook his head, leaning against the wall beside the door.

"Sit."

One look at Snape's face made him comply. He sat down, looking up at the professor. "Why am I here?"

Snape took a deep breath before answering. "So that I can keep an eye on you."

"An eye on me?"

"Yes, an eye one you. Don't be so sceptical. I worry about you. You're in danger of turning into…"

Draco grinned humourlessly. "Into what? A Death Eater? Too bloody late for that, isn't it?"

"Well actually I was going to say the Dark Lord's latest casualty," he said smoothly. "He's out for your blood and you're being watched constantly. You're an enormous disappointment to him, from what I've heard. Your mother's absolutely livid."

"Well what about you? You're working with Dumbledore!"

Snape smiled thinly. "Am I?"

"Are you?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Forgive me for not treating you to the finer details of my task, but it is better for all concerned if they remain… confidential."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the professor.

"On the subject of which, you are to tell any who ask that you are carrying out the same task as I. You are to express that this task is strictly confidential and that they may take the matter up with Dumbledore if they wish to pursue it further."

"You realise Potter wont accept an excuse like that?" he asked.

"Of course I do. He'll try to pin Granger's disappearance on you and most likely try to murder you in the process. However," he stood, "once you offer to bring in Professor Dumbledore he shall back off."

"Yeah," Draco scraped his fringe away from his eyes, "I can see that happening."

"His father was exactly the same," Snape sneered. "Trust me. Now, don't draw too much attention to yourself, and when humanly possible stay close to either Lupin or myself." Snape made to leave the room when Draco suddenly called him back.

"I didn't see you at the last meeting," he said, compelled by some strange urge to bring the matter up again. It had taken a tremendous amount of effort to expel the event to the back of his mind, but somehow…

Snape frowned. "Which meeting would that be? When you were branded?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Last night. I didn't see you or… or Rhun."

Snape's frown deepened and he strode across the room to kneel in front of the boy. "Draco, there was no meeting last night. My mark… the mark didn't burn. I wasn't called to anything."

"But everyone was there," he insisted. "A whole bunch of people. Standing around. You know who has Granger! You must know!"

"I knew the Dark Lord probably had something to do with it," he admitted, his dark eyes studying the boys pale face. "What happened at this meeting?"

"Morgan came and got me," Draco shook his head. "When I heard Granger had gone missing, I called her." He told Snape about the events of the night before, and his body began to shake before he'd reached the half-way point. Snape's face grew paler than Draco had ever thought possible.

"He killed Pansy Parkinson?" he asked softly.

"Kingdon did," Draco corrected him, breathing deeply. "And now Granger has the dark mark implanted on her arm. It probably wouldn't be too hard for her to get off, I mean… from the looks of it they just…" Draco nearly retched when he remembered what they had done. "They just… sewed Pansy's onto her…"

Snape sat back on his haunches, deep in thought. "Albus must be informed, of course," he murmured to himself. "Though there's no way he'd still be keeping her… In the graveyard, did you say it was?"

Draco nodded.

"She'd have been moved somewhere else. Private. Your task was to take Mr Potter to him, was it not?"

"Yeah. Um, I thought that if I was going to do it, then…" he didn't bother finishing the sentence when he saw the disgusted look Snape served him. "…or… not?"

Snape sighed, rising to his feet in an oddly graceful move. "Go do whatever you were about to do, Draco," he murmured on his way out. "Stay out of trouble."

Draco sat for a moment after the dark figure had left. Whose side was Snape on, anyway? Hell, what side was he on? God knew.

"Now where is that damn piano?" he muttered, wandering out of the room and pushing all memories of the night before from his mind. All is good, he reassured himself. All is fine. Pansy is fine, I am fine. I am in a house full of people who want to kill me, but that's just fine. Everything is just completely peachy… fan-fucking-tastic. He made his way down the hall and found the door third on the left. As knocking before entering a room was against his morals, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted, pushing the door inwards.

And found Potter. And…

"Looney?" Draco raised his eyebrows, squinting to see just who was tangled up with the bespectacled hero on Sirius' large bed. The scraggly blonde hair was a dead giveaway, and he laughed in shock as the two faces looked up at him in horror. One of those faces, however, gave way quickly to what could only be described as fury.

"Malfoy?" Potter spat.

"Hell, Potter, is she even legal yet? There are laws against this kind of thing, you know. Up there with not doing it with animals. Which, by the looks of things, you're doing anyway."

Luna flushed a deep scarlet as Potter jumped from the bed, pushing her behind him. "You scum-sucking mag-"

"Urgh, put some bloody clothes on, Potter," Draco recoiled from the advancing nude figure. "I have no desire to see your… talent."

"The boy has a huge talent," Looney suddenly giggled from the bed, in an abrupt mood swing.

"Yes, thankyou for that," Draco coughed, taking hold of the doorknob. "Well, I'll just leave you two to it, eh?" he winked at Potter as he shut the door in his face. Potter and Lovegood, he shook his head with a grin. Well, well, well.

"Malfoy," he heard a familiar growl behind him. He turned to find that Potter had emerged from the bedroom, now clad in jeans.

"Well thank God for that," he said mockingly. "We don't have to look at the boy's huge talent anymore."

Potter curled his lip before suddenly launching himself at Draco, his hands clasping tight around his neck. Struck by the unexpected force of the impact, Draco fell backwards to the floor, his head making a loud thud as it struck the floor.

Red flashed before his eyes as he grasped Potters wrists, wrenching them apart and throwing him back, sending the other boy flying into the wall. Draco sprang to his feet, watching Potter warily. His eyes were narrowed, and blazed a bright golden yellow. His teeth bared, he emitted a strange, rumbling sound from deep in his throat. Potter pulled himself up, surprised by how far he'd been flung by this scrawny blonde boy. Only now did he notice the muscles that could be seen under his rivals t-shirt.

"He's a Snorflat!" Luna gasped from the doorway of Sirius room.

The two boys ignored her, staring at each other. Two bright emerald eyes bored into unwavering golden ones.

"Harry, mate, I wish you two would go in the bloody bedroom or at least be a little less enthusiastic," Ron Weasley yawned, poking his freckled face out of another doorway. "You really need to…" his tired eyes snapped wide open as he spied the boy confronting his best friend. "What…?"

Draco lowered his head and backed up a little as he took in this new enemy, growling deeply at him. He wanted to tell Weasley to fuck off and leave him alone. He wanted to tell Harry to sod off. He wanted to say that he didn't have anything to do with Granger. That he may well have saved her bloody life last night. But when he tried, all he could do was…

Weasley stared at him incredulously, the anger dropping away to reveal an amazed expression. "Did you just bark?"

"WOLVES!" a loud female exclaimed from somewhere down the hall. "In my house! Out! OUT! VILE SERVANTS OF FILTH AND MUCK! HALFBREEDS!"

Draco straightened up immediately, the fire fading from his eyes. "Who the hell is that?"

Luna pointed wordlessly down the hall as the three gazed at him in wonder. He spun around and ran down the hall, where he found the noise to be coming from behind two heavy red curtains. He pulled them aside to find a portrait of a large, screaming woman.

"FOUL BEAST!" she cried. "BEGONE FROM MY HOUSE!"

Draco clenched his jaw as her screeching voice nearly blasted him through the opposite wall. "Who the hell are you?" he asked her, trying to be heard over her screams.

"I am the Mistress of this house, you foul half-breed! GET OUT! BESMIRCH MY HOUSE NO LONGER!"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "So you would be Mrs Black, then?"

"I AM THE ONLY REMNANT OF THE GREAT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!" She declared imperiously.

"You're also loud," he observed, causing her to launch into a fresh tirade of insults. "So would you, by any chance, know of my mother, Narcissa Black?"

Mrs Black fell silent for perhaps the first time since the Order had entered her house. "I would. She married Lucius Malfoy."

"Yes, my father."

"You're a Malfoy?" she asked, leaning as close to him as the portrait would allow. He felt quite odd with a giant face pressed against what looked like glass peering at him. "You look like one." Then she seemed to remember something. "HOW DOES A MALFOY BECOME A WOLF?" she screeched.

"Easy," he stressed every single word as he heard Potter and the others advancing up the hallway. He also heard several people climbing the stairs. "I didn't."

She pressed her hands against the edge of the portrait and shoved one huge eyeball up against it. "You look like one to me, you filthy little ingrate."

Draco maintained a casual pose as he examined her portrait, ignoring the enormous blue eye looking down at him. "You put a sealing hex on this, didn't you?"

The eye pulled away from the edge and he could once again see Mrs Black properly. She looked quite defensive. "Why?"

"Looks like the one we used on the family portraits at home," he shrugged, trailing his fingers over the canvas. "Invented when Great Aunt Edna kept getting attacked by the village idiots. They kept burning her house and ruining the portraits in those witch hunts a while back. So she invented this, so that people would stop damaging them. Family tradition since then, if I remember correctly."

Mrs Black continued to regard him warily. "Why would that worry me?"

"It would worry you," he said confidently as Potter and his group as well as several adults reached him, "because if you used that spell, you would know that to unseal the portrait, all I have to say is-"

"WAIT!" she screeched. "I… WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"First I want you to stop calling me a wolf," he shrugged. "Because I'm not."

She folded her arms and glared at him. "Is that all, Master Malfoy?" she asked snidely.

"No," he smiled sweetly. "I also want you to bloody shut up. Because if I hear your horrible, ear-splitting voice raise above speaking level, I'll unseal this whole bloody portrait and feed it to a dragon."

Her glare grew in intensity, and if looks could kill, Draco would readily swear that he'd have been drawn and quartered by now.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed, stepping forward and resting a hand on Draco's shoulder. He was inclined to flinch away from the touch, but he curbed the feeling, pretending it was something slightly more pleasant. Like a big, carnivorous death slug. "Now that that's been taken care of, I suggest we all go downstairs. There is much to discuss."

"Him too?" Potter asked in anger, pointing at Draco.

"Yes, Harry. Him too. He has a very big part to play in all of this."

"But, Professor, he'll run back to Voldemort and tell him everything!" he protested.

You must be very brave to speak his name.

"After all, he had something to do with Hermione going missing! He did, I know it!"

Or very foolish.

"Harry, Draco was with me when Hermione was taken," Remus spoke up. "And he's shed some new light on the situation."

"I'll bet he has," Potter grumbled under his breath, walking past Draco and glaring at him with Luna on his arm. Weasley followed, his back slouched from his towering height. Nobody smiled at him save Dumbledore and Remus. With the nutty professor's hand still on his shoulder, Draco descended the stairs with the people who hated him and, for the first time in a long while, desired a hug from his father.