Three Options for Draco

Three Options for Draco ch1--Failed

Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape gathered their breath, carefully testing each other, wands drawn. The teacher had just opened his mouth for a snarl when they were summoned to the Dark Lord. He had not assumed it would happen so rapidly, mere minutes after they had left the grounds of Hogwarts school. "Be honest. Do not try any false excuses," he told his charge.

"Not to worry, I will not spoil your great day," Draco replied icily and touched his Dark Mark. His howl of pain covered the pop of Apparition.

Severus swore under his breath, distributing blame on Lucius for the upbringing of this arrogant prat, on Bellatrix for nourishing the boy's eagerness to rise in the Dark Lord's opinion, and himself for what he had done. He did not spare the late headmaster any blame either.

When they arrived, Fenrir Greyback was already reporting the events in the Astronomy tower to their master. "The boy was paralysed, my Lord, although the old fool was already disarmed. Neither of them was pleased to meet me, though." Draco had not the least chance to gloss over his failure.

Even Snape's warm body next to him could not ease Draco's chill. His aunt Bellatrix, standing on their master's right side, glared at Draco and Snape in fury. It was impossible to detect whom she would have killed first, had she been given leave to do so. All through last summer, Bellatrix had listed so many odd encounters concerning the man, that Draco had returned to Hogwarts full of doubts.

Currently, however, his teacher's fate was Draco's least concern. He had botched his own quest, and this night he'd face the music. Here, and right now, it would start.

Without even looking at Draco, their master called out, "Severus, my faithful knight, come stand by my side." Bowing deeply, his former teacher inched forward, leaving Draco shivering in fear. "No, not like that Severus. Stand upright and proud! You truly surprised me, Severus. You have accomplished a difficult deed. I confess, I had not dared to entrust you with it."

Draco blinked and dared to glance up a bit, wanting to understand the logic therein. Does the Dark Lord not trust Snape after all? Snape walked more upright now, but he did not even get close to the self-assured, long strides he had perfected at school or the stance that demonstrated aloofness as much as authority.

"Yes, I know of the ways the old fool used to beguile the people following him. He believed himself to be a kind of mentor to you, did he not? For a whole year, I have observed how you buttered him up, and I must say you were very convincing. You even convinced me, Severus, and I did not trust you. Dumbledore! Even the strongest in mind might weaken when he offers his ever so gracious forgiveness for the hundredth time. He spoke so highly of you towards the man he believed to be Mad Eye Moody, too. Dumbledore always pretended to not demand anything in return, but in the end, he was twisting you round his little finger, Severus, or so it seemed. He has always taken full advantage of those seeking his sympathy or even only his proximity, manipulated not only their deeds, but their whole thinking and their value system until they did not know themselves or their pride."

A murmur arose in the group, and the heads of the noblest families in their circle nodded.

"But you, Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, resisted him. You said what he wanted to hear, but you kept true to your word to me. Come; take your place at my right side, for this is where you belong. I expect everyone here to cease intriguing against Severus Snape lest he--or she," he addressed Bellatrix with danger in his red eyes, "--will feel my wrath."

"You will lead the elite troupe of our forces, Severus. Teach them resilience and integrity. You can employ their workforce for your needs when they are not in my service," he continued, probing what might appeal to the hero of the day.

To Draco's utmost shame and disgust, the man was not only being honoured most highly, but also unable to exploit his new position. The 'dubious upstart', as his aunt called him, actually turned down this gracious offer and simply wished to have everyone leave his proximity.

"Is there anything else you wish for me to have Paul or Amycus arrange for you?" their master asked.

Snape shook his head. "My Lord, I am fully satisfied with being in your service. I might accept a refurbished potions lab at my quarters, but otherwise I'm most grateful if spared the sight of any of them helping me."

The Dark Lord laughed. "Yes, you and your potions. They have never yet failed me. Very well, set up a list, and I believe..." His eyes roamed around and settled on Draco. "...Narcissa will cover your expenses." Draco's neck burned.

"If something else comes to mind, seek me out, Severus! We all, I'm sure, will strive to give you the reward you so deserve, and whoever comes up with any appropriately estimable ideas, is welcome to inform me. Now, Bella, move down between Walden and Goyle and have Severus take his new place."

Her face glowed in fury and disgust. For months, she had mentored her nephew for the honourable task of killing the headmaster. Now, because of the boy's weakness, she was ordered to step down from the Inner Circle and become an average rank Death Eater.

"Malfoy!"

Draco's heart stopped beating, but he forced himself forward, into the middle of the circle.

So it began.

Their master subjected Draco to questions under Legilimency and did not spare him any physical pain. Why had he failed several times? How much had he possibly revealed to others with his primitive approach? What security measures had he taken?

Draco was on all fours, panting heavily and unable to ignore the many shots of pain that seared through his body, when the Cruciatus was lifted. As his nerves stopped twitching, he experienced the first after-effect of the curse, an incredible thirst. He was promptly offered a yellowish drink. His dry mouth longed for the treat, but he knew better and refused the liquid that would prevent his wounds from healing. When they moistened his lips to tempt him, he shut his mouth firmly and bit his lips to resist. Draco knew that he was to die. If he appeared weak now, they would bleed him dry through his wounds. If he showed this bit of willpower, he might still be granted a more rapid death, maybe even through Avada Kedavra.

The Dark Lord waved the drink away and gave Draco a rest.

Three other Death Eaters received the order to catch Remus Lupin, the werewolf who most likely had already lured away five young werewolves from Greyback's pack. They had all disappeared in the chaos of the transformations before or after a full moon. They bowed and retreated, knowing full well how difficult their task was.

Called up again, Draco dragged his feet into the circle and bowed.

"What emotions have kept you from taking the very last step, Draco Malfoy?" their master asked. "Think about it, boy! If you do not manage in the future to avoid suffering from this deplorable weakness of emotion, I have no use of you."

A shuffle went through the assembled, and Draco slowly registered what this command meant. He was to be given a future. He would have time to think and work on himself! This fact did not tally up to a death penalty!

Their master asked the assembled what punishments or quests they suggested.

Draco looked up and saw Severus Snape reluctant to propose ways how to punish Draco further. He showed no reaction when the Dark Lord assigned Draco a new task: to deliver McGonagall to them. "I give you six weeks time. Dismissed."

Draco crouched deep to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes and thanked him for his trust.

Inwardly, he knew that it was near-impossible to get a hold on the new headmistress and head of the Order of the Phoenix.

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In his new position, his mother was the only person Draco could relate to. Returning to Malfoy Manor, he reluctantly reported his fate, knowing how hopeless his position was and how this would pain her. Narcissa's face became white as a wall, distorting in pain.

In the following days, she discussed with Draco and his aunt what was to be done. Draco could do nothing but cut her short when she started boring into him.

His aunt was no help at all, except for fanning the flames of hate and jealousy that grew against Snape. The man has been poking his hooked, oversized hooter into my affairs all year. Next time he crawls to our master's side, I wish he would trip over the hem of his black cloak, and plough into the ground with it.

Narcissa finally searched Severus Snape out, against Draco's wish. The positions of Draco and Snape were nearly reversed from a year ago. He would turn her down with the same arrogance he had shown at the Death Eater meeting.

As she returned from glorious-Snape, she silently shook her head. Draco was unable to give her the least bit of comfort.

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Severus Snape, the single most hated British wizard, sat in his dreadful home, his mood hanging down as listlessly as his greasy hair. He was where his masters had wanted him to be. He certainly was not anywhere he himself had ever wanted to be.

A least, Severus was alone as he had always preferred, but had hardly ever been allowed to be. With his new status, no one had dared to suggest he take back the traitor, Wormtail, and Severus had used caustic potions of his own creation to cleanse the house from the stench and memory of the pitiful man.

Whenever he was called, Severus stood upright and proud in the Inner Circle of Death Eaters, next to the Dark Lord, and glowered at the simple men that usually did him the favour of cowering when his glare fell upon them. But here, at Spinner's End, he had no need for glory or grandeur.

Alone. He should be relieved--maybe even glad--but he could not bring himself to it. Too repulsive were the deeds he had encumbered his conscience with, overwhelming was the burden he carried.

A knock at his door kicked him out of his stupor. He should set up more effective wards to keep the Muggle hawkers at bay. Best if he'd render the house invisible for them.

However, this wasn't a salesman going from door to door. When the woman threw back her hood he recognised her as the same woman who had visited him ten months ago, and she was in no better shape now, to say the very least.

Severus was just in the mood for a visitor like her! He opened the door less than a foot wide. Before he could bark a 'What do you want?' at her, she whispered, "Severus, may I speak to you? It's urgent," and made to walk in, although he had not opened the door wider.

"Do I see a pattern here?" he snarled.

The woman on his doorstep halted in bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

"You are repeating yourself, Narcissa. It was oh-so-urgent last time, too."

"Severus," she started again. "May I please come in?"

"If you feel the need," he replied, his thin mouth curling into a mocking smile as he let her pass.

Once again, the elegant, but distressed lady sat down awkwardly in the threadbare armchair, visibly struggling with coming up with words. There was no Wormtail this time and no wine either. Severus Snape did nothing to make her feel welcome, for she was not. "Am I right to assume you wish to speak out of turn again?"

"Severus!" she shrieked. "Please listen to me. Draco is in great peril again."

"Did he say so?"

"Ye... no. Lately, he is not sharing his concerns with me. But I am his mother. I can read his face. I do not need Legilimency to know how desperate he is. Severus, please, help him once again. This new plan is bound to fail if Draco is to face the Order alone."

"I assume so," Severus said coldly. He actually hoped so. He would hardly mind being spared the burden that was Draco Malfoy.

A part of his conscience started to protest, but the thought was cut short when Narcissa gabbled on, "Severus, you should know how much you mean to him! He has spoken highly of you all these years. He always adored you. He strove to emulate you, even copied your ways of walking and talking."

His mouth thin as a line, Severus Snape hissed, "He could have striven to copy the way I brew potions." The woman occupying his chair shivered, but Severus did not feel generous. "During this last school year, he strutted past me as arrogantly as only a pure-blood can."

"It's Bella's fault! This was all her doing. She does not want you near us because she does not trust you. Her inflammatory speeches must have turned Draco against you. But, Severus, you are now closer to the Dark Lord than ever and closer than Bella or anyone else. Will you speak to him, ask him to allow you to help Draco?"

"Why, pray tell, would I do that?"

"Is that all you care? Doesn't Draco mean anything to you?" Her voice dropped, but she did not stop. "What else can I do for you? What do you wish for me to arrange for you? I'll do it. Anything. If you just talk to the Dark Lord!"

Severus was furious now. If she was to help her son, she needed to be her old, strong self. "Just stop to listen to yourself, woman. A Black demeaning herself by begging and bribing a half-blood. Pollux Black's body will be violently sick in its tomb. His spirit might right now commend his other grandchild, Sirius, for the backbone the guy displayed." Severus deliberately hit below the belt, and watching her face turn green was a sweet reward. "You're following down Lucius' paths: licking the Minister's arse, paying your way through life. I'm disgusted."

For a long time, Narcissa only stared at him, catching her breath. "I see," she finally whispered and took two-three more deep breaths. Her head higher than ever in these last weeks, she finally stood. Severus liked her better this way, but he would bite his tongue before he said so. "I see I was mistaken, Severus," she said, composed now.

At the door, she turned around and added, "You still do not know your position among those of noble birth."

For good measure, Severus reinforced his wards already the same evening. The tedious task would not have been needed for another three days, but he felt the need to make sure of his own safety measures.

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The following weeks found Draco strolling around Hogsmeade, Hogwarts ground or the McGonagall estate on the Scottish highlands in search for the appointed headmistress.

He spent hours in the Malfoy library perusing books on stealth and disguise, snapping at elves and his mother alike whenever they disturbed him with food or questions. Draco learned how to cover his human odour to pass by the less dangerous beasts that dwelt in the Forbidden Forest. He perfected his aim when noiselessly Apparating until he reached ten yards to any direction or thirty yards back the way he came from.

Ignoring the fact that a huge amount of sheer luck saved his life a few times, he stubbornly followed his quest alone.

The wide-open Scottish highlands made him research in the different Obfuscation Charms for standing still, walking, flying and even swimming, but he did not come far. There was no predatory deviant of the Demiguise and wizards were not closer to achieving this goal in the twentieth century than they had been two thousand years ago.

Draco would have equipped himself with spell reflectors from the Weasleys' shop if he had dared venture there. But he could not do so, and he had no one to ask such a favour from, either.

Time was running out, and he had not seen the headmistress but twice in five weeks, both times hopelessly far away and surrounded by Aurors.

In grim determination, Draco stuck to the request; he had to achieve the impossible or die trying.

He had his favourite foods brought into his room to save the time walking the corridors to the dining hall. He made two elves wash and manicure him while he continued reading and taking notes with his DictaQuill.

His mother kept nagging him to please seek out others for help. She started with Snape and the Carrows and continued with Flint and the Parkinsons, who used to hope he might marry their daughter but would not lift a finger for him today. When she would not even stop short at the inflated blockhead Goyle senior, who made the troll that was his son appear a genius, she shattered Draco's nerves. He shouted and swore at his mother as he had never done before. Feeling abashed at his outburst, he soaked for an hour in a hot a fragrant bath and came to admitting to himself that he was in a terrible state of nerves. He avoided his mother for the next days, as she did him.

On a dizzy evening four days before his deadline, Draco finally saw McGonagall in Hogsmeade near the Shrieking Shack. He threw precaution to the wind and broke through all the blocks and barriers that surrounded the building. She seemed quite alone as she approached.

Surprised and relieved, Draco nearly smiled at her. "Mr Malfoy?" she wondered, holding her wand straight ahead, on alert, but gesturing invitingly with her other hand.

Draco shook his shortened, blond mane and ran a rapid succession of a Stunner and a burning spell at her before she would talk him out of it. He Apparated next to a tree before he sent another curse.

He was, however, far too nervous to put enough force and aim into his spells. She twitched as her leg glowed orange, but she had her block up in no time. Draco fired on, noticing too late that she had Apparated to the side. There was a deflector component in the strange wall she had erected, and Draco found his own foot glowing, revealing his new position.

For the next minute or so, they Apparated around each other quite noiselessly until she stumbled and shrieked. Now was the moment, and Draco used it before he would start thinking again. He fired a Stunner at the location, but it did not connect with anything alive. He fired again--nothing.

Suddenly, the woman's voice was only four yards behind him, calling sternly, "Don't move, Mr Malfoy!"

Draco jerked around, ready to hex her, but she had Transfigured a group of big rocks into three formidable tigers. Upon her command, the cats circled around him, each roaring after it left his field of vision on the right and again before it came back into view on Draco's left. Passing through between Draco and the headmistress, each tiger bowed deeply to the woman.

"You are operating alone, aren't you, Mr Malfoy?" she asked. "If you surrender now, we can make a deal."

"I'm not here to make deals with an arrogant Gryffindor," Draco spat. Immediately, the huge felines growled.

"Why don't you drop your wand?" the woman tried again.

Strongly reminded of the disgrace up at the Astronomy tower, Draco swore and cast a Freezing Spell at the bypassing tiger, but the beast turned to him rather than the headmistress, and the spell hit it in the mucous membrane of the mouth. Thick ice crystals cut into the sensitive flesh and immobilised its whiskers. The beast howled and threw itself at him, its mates following suit.

Before the beasts could harm Draco severely, he Apparated as far backwards as he thought he could do silently. He found himself only five yards away, his shoulders bruised, his skin scratched and his heart pounding in his chest.

Together with an embarrassingly loud pop, he had heard the headmistress cancel the spell. When he looked around, covering all sides, there were no tigers anywhere. McGonagall was gone as well.

An eerie sound from the left made Draco do one hasty step to the side, and he lost his footing. His left ankle cracked in a sickening sound. He groaned and applied a weak Freezing Spell on it to get some relief. He had to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Whispering, "Ferula!" he stabilised the leg.

While he was distracted, the stones to the left of and below Draco grew to six times their heights, half-encircling him. More stones appeared on top of this first layer until they effectively shielded Draco's view into the town or towards Hogwarts. Similarly, he and any trace of his next spells were invisible from there. He jumped up and saw McGonagall at a few yards' distance, her wand hand steadily describing a concave crescent.

"You're fighting a losing battle, Draco," she reasoned. "Don't you see?"

No, this time he had to carry out his master's orders; he just had to. Otherwise, the name of Malfoy would forever be laughed at. They would get to his mother and slowly torture her to death. Draco's mind imagined her face distorted in pain, and the vision gave him new strength. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted and jerked out his hand to deftly catch what didn't come. The wand in McGonagall's hand had twitched, but nothing more. She wasn't quite ready to set up a block against his second shot, a piercing-curse, but she jumped off and most of the minute-daggers snipped the near-by undergrowth to pieces.

Her wand was up again, and Draco had to jump hither and thither in the deadly fight that developed. Knowing her susceptible for the Stunner, Draco tried it a few times, but she wasn't easy to catch. While her curses were never fatal, and not usually very quick, they were unexpected, attacking Draco's senses. When she conjured a huge, reverberating gong, its deep sound was amplified by the stone-wall behind Draco, but it didn't seem to reach her at all.

Draco had to withstand the noise through the following three exchanges before he had the idea and a second's time to conjure a thick blanket that wrapped itself around the nerve-racking thing.

He turned back to his target to see a strange rope emerge from her wand, a spell she cancelled in time to block his glowing flames. They exploded with green sparks and a deafening sound that, once again, hit Draco's ears twice, thanks to the reflection from the wall.

Draco advanced a step and shouted, "Aguamenti!" It was not the most advanced curse, but one that could not be exploded. McGonagall got a drenching. She made, however, short work of her robe and keeping a new block glowing between them, she chucked the wet thing on the soft ground.

Draco stepped back again to gain time, and a sticky tentacle groped its way around his upper left arm. As he jolted to shake it off, it fastened more, and another, equally sticky one twined itself around his ankle. Draco turned and saw five tentacles feeling towards him. Each time the rope McGonagall had conjured had hit the stone wall, it must have split, one part fastening on the solid rock to lead its own life, the other bouncing back to reach the other side of the wall and repeat the process.

When he had burnt the ones on his left side, he was addressed from far atop a tree. "Will you listen now, Mr Malfoy?"

She was sitting and had a good grip on the next branch, pointing her wand down. She can turn into a cat, Draco recalled. Shit!

Draco used a spell designed to shake apple trees, aiming at the middle between the ground and the Transfiguration teacher. The pine, however, reacted very differently from the fruit trees and the tawny cat simply climbed lower. Draco aimed at the Animagus but missed.

He was to kill her, and if she escaped now, there would not be a second chance!

"Mr Malfoy, listen," she called to him from a lower place, and Draco blasted the tree into smithereens. The noise of the splintering wood and the cloud of dust would be clearly visible in the village. Draco had to hurry now.

McGonagall Transformed back into a cat to survive and steer her fall. She landed with feline grace, and Draco took aim, but as he raised his wand arm, the last tentacles found their target and laced themselves tightly around his fingers.

Draco's struggle with the sticky things gave the cat all time it needed to escape.

"Nice to meet you, laddie," a deep growl greeted him, "although you might think of it as a re-union." A scar-covered face with mismatching eyes surrounded by a mane of dark grey hair appeared at the edge of the Shrieking Shack. Draco's heart sank, and he ran head over heels into the forest, caring little for his protesting left leg.

He was nearly felled by a Nerve Twitcher on his good leg, but struggled on into the brush. Another sharp curse from the old Auror must have hit a tree for he swore and stopped following Draco.

Draco hobbled on as long as he could hold himself upright, but eventually he fell and darkness surrounded him.

At dusk, he woke with a start, and every way he looked, his eyes saw shadows moving and eyes glaring. Draco tried to Apparate but could not summon the strength. If he splinched himself here in the wilderness, he would be completely blocked. He sat up, then tried to stand but fell back onto his heels.

A foot kicked Draco square into his breast, and he found himself wrestling with a woolly beast half his own size, but just as strong. As they rolled over yet another time, neither of them gaining or losing, he identified the fermented smell in the beast's breath for what it was: the strange creature was ruminating! It was a herbivore, and thus comparatively harmless. Draco gave up fighting and allowed the beast to kick him some more to make it leave.

He groped along the floor, whispering, "Accio, wand!" in a few directions, but eventually collapsed in exhaustion.

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Draco awoke, strongly bandaged, in the Malfoys' summer house, the only piece of the estate his grandfather had immediately transferred to him, skipping his father as well as registration. Anxiously, Draco observed while two of their elves nursed him, wordlessly, never meeting his eyes, never revealing what they might know.

His eyes were hurting too much to read, and so he was left to brood over his destiny, his options and lost chances. Odd thoughts kept playing in his mind. Dumbledore's strange, last offer to help Draco. As he considered it further, he even saw that the man had been generally rather fair to all houses. McGonagall's strict but fair handling of all pupils. Primitive prejudices within Slytherin against everybody else and in Gryffindor against all Slytherins.

On a warm evening, when he had been lying limply on the sunny terrace, the mute elves thrust a Portkey into his hand. The jerking feeling upon its activation sent new stabs of pain through his damaged body, and, once again, he passed out.

Draco jolted to full awareness and found himself alone in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but light clothes. Too weak to go exploring, he fell victim to his own thoughts again. For the whole night, Draco's thoughts circled around Hogwarts or his father. The expectations others had of him and his own wishes and hopes didn't fit together. They clashed more strikingly the longer and harder he tried to match them.

His second shock came when Severus Snape arrived and Portkeyed him to a wrecked and very Muggle house at the poorest of outskirts of a small Muggle town. The man pushed him through the house and into a bathroom that was as cold as as the night outside.

With uncaring hands the dark, brooding man ripped the drenched, silken nightgown with the Malfoy crest apart and tossed it into the bin. He attended to Draco's wounds expertly, but silently, before he threw a bundle of formerly black, but now bleached, soft clothes at Draco's feet and left the bathroom.

Having no other choice and shivering from cold, Draco donned the worn and bulky Muggle things, which hardly deserved the only names Draco could give them: trouser and jumper. They had no clasps at all, only a string to keep the trouser-like piece up. No wonder they had to be unbecomingly wide and shapeless. However, they were dry and felt so soft that they did not irritate his tender skin.

He emerged from the cold room and saw his host levitating a huge steaming pot onto the table that was laid with two mismatching, chipped bowls. Draco fought the aversion to touch the thin, spotty and dented spoon at his place-setting, gulped and sat down. Silently, they ladled the tasteless, thick, lentil soup.

Draco's stomach welcomed the Spartan meal anyhow, and the hooded sweatshirt especially warmed him.

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Draco had to face the Dark Lord with empty hands. This had to be the end. Doomsday.

Yet, his desperate mother had already offered to support their master's cause most generously. Professing to visit their estates in France to see that everything is all right, she had travelled France and Spain for rare, exotic woods as wand material. In the wizard enclaves of the Pyrenees, she rummaged through the shady or outright Dark shops. Returning, she showed Draco a large crate filled with wood from various southern trees. She had also got hold of several expensive potion ingredients of Latin American origin and a few other rare objects with what she called 'interesting properties', but Draco could not find the energy to pay attention to.

While her haul looked paltry to Draco, she must have pleased their master enough to save Draco.

Severus Snape was assigned the task to teach Draco. He proposed it himself, in a style he had reserved to treat pupils after blowing up the second cauldron in a week. In class or in a well-populated corridor if they were Gryffindors, in the Slytherin common room if they belonged there. Snape's malevolent look reduced the last resistance in Draco.

Together they returned to the ruin his teacher might call a house, Draco heaving the bulk of pickled or dried plants and beasts. For an undetermined time, Draco was to live there.

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