The Final Battle

"Please - I beg of you, Master, I'll do anything. Please, Great Lord, don't make me do this to my son. He is my only child. He is too young!" pleaded Lucius.

"I have made my decision, Lucius. Draco Malfoy will be put under the Imperius Curse as soon as he goes to Hogwarts. He will only be able to take it off in your presence, or mine," drawled Voldemort.

He looked unconcerned at the anguish of one of his most faithful servants. His eyes flashed. "Or do you wish to have a taste of my displeasure?"

"No, but please - why, Master?" cried Lucius.

"I have my reasons. I shall give you my orders when the proper time comes. Take him off the Imperius Curse when he is in necessary classes, so that he may learn. Aside from that, he is to be controlled at all times..." Lucius sank to his knees, begging for Voldemort to reverse his judgment on the matter. The only response he got was an angered glint in the eye of his master and a soft, hissing whisper of, "Crucio."

Lucius Malfoy had endured this many times, but at this moment, nothing seemed to be able to compare to this. Just as blackness began to slip over his vision, just as he thought he would die, Voldemort ended the curse. Malfoy's red, half-mad eyes had a far away look to them, and he was shaking harder than he ever had before. He was a frightening and pitiable sight, but the Dark Lord was neither frightened nor pitying. He started to laugh, softly at first and then louder, so that Lucius' ears rang with the awful, cold sound. "Go now and do my bidding," he said, a cold, amused smile still lingering on his face.

"As - you wish...Master." Lucius managed a bow after clambering, with difficulty, to his feet. As soon as Lucius exited the cold dim chambers of Voldemort, he Apperated back to his own mansion. He dreaded facing his wife and telling her the horrible news. Narcissa could be very threatening when presented the opportunity, sometimes downright frightening, but her power in magic was limited. Lucius looked back at a few memories of times when his wife had been very angry, and they were not good ones. He shivered. As Lucius walked up his marble front steps, a house elf opened the large oak doors, bowed and let him in. He ignored it completely. Another took his designer coat and silk scarf, scuttled away, not before bowing.

"Hello, Narcissa," Lucius said, hating to wipe the smile off her face.

"Evening, dear. How was your day? Oh! What happened? Not the Dark Lord...he didn't...again? Oh, Lucius, you must stop angering him! I hate to see you like this. Come into the other room." Narcissa wrung her hands. He ignored this.

" I have to tell you something. It's urgent, Narcissa. An order from the master," said Lucius.

"Did he put you under the Cruciatus Curse?" interrupted Narcissa.

"It wasn't that bad, Narcissa. I was foolish enough to disagree with his orders. Now, let's go sit down, then, shall we?" said Lucius.

Striding over to a pair of expertly designed French doors; two house elves opened the door and let the couple in. The ceiling of the living room was enchanted, just like the one in Hogwarts. Right now it was almost black with stars spread out across it. A soft knock echoed through the massive room.

"Come in," barked Lucius. Tentatively, a house elf called Mindy struggled to push open the doors. When she got through, she bowed clumsily and brought Lucius and Narcissa her two bottles of butterbeer. She then bowed and walked out of the door.

"Now then, Lucius, tell me what's happened," Narcissa prompted, taking a sip of her butterbeer. "Voldemort has ordered me to put Draco under the...well..."

"Just tell me, Lucius, don't try to put it off," Narcissa said, eyes narrowing.

"He ordered me to put Draco under the Imperius Curse," said Lucius quickly. "As soon as he goes to Hogwarts."

"WHAT!?" screamed Narcissa, leaping up and knocking over her butterbeer. Her face was white in terror and fury. "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO OBEY HIM, ARE YOU? I'VE ALWAYS KNOWN SOMETHING LIKE THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN! MY POOR BABY!"

She was trembling now. Lucius could imagine the house-elves outside the door fleeing. "Narcissa, be reasonable. At least it won't hurt him," reasoned Lucius.

"NOT HURT HIM! NOT HURT HIM! YOU MUST BE KIDDING, LUCIUS, IT WILL DO MORE THAN THAT, IT WILL MAKE HIM FEEL NOTHING AT ALL! I WILL NOT LET MY SON BE A TOOL, A TOY TO PLAY WITH!"

"Well, what can I do?" spat Lucius, losing his temper, leaping up as well. "At least I'm not killing him, he's a strong boy, he can fight the Imperius Curse when he's older, he can - and he will! I promise you that!"

Narcissa just stared at him. Then she covered her face with her hands and cried. Heart-wrenching sobs came from her throat, and she was shuddering from the grief. Lucius turned away from the sight, stalked out the door and left her to take care of herself. He couldn't face this. He couldn't do anything.

***

Narcissa brushed her fingers nervously through her hair. How could she have forgotten? Lucius had reminded her yesterday. It was too late now to send the forms into Durmstrang. Hogwarts it was, then. She would rather her son went to Beauxbatons than have to endure this. She would never forgive herself for forgetting. It had been ten years since she had sat in this same spot, ten long years, but not long enough. If Draco was accepted to Hogwarts, his life would be over. Seven years under the Imperious Curse was too long for a soul to emerge sane from it. A single tear ran down her cheek, like a drop of rain, and like rain, more followed inevitably. Before she knew what was happening, she was sobbing into her hands, sobbing as she had ten years ago, sitting where she had been ten years ago when Lucius had told her. Damn him! Damn the Dark Lord, and damn Lucius! He was arrogant, but he was frightened of the Master's wrath. If there was a possibility Voldemort was still alive, that he might return...if he discovered Lucius had disobeyed him, her husband and her son both would die. It was that moment that Draco, eleven-year-old Draco, chose to walk through the doors. He was short, with silvery-pale Malfoy hair and gray eyes. There was a taste of spoiled richness in them, something unmistakably arrogant, but there was also worry and concern. Naturally, the sight of his normally composed and graceful mum weeping on a living room couch brought him to a halt.

"Oh, mum, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is there anything I can do?" cried Draco, running over to her. He hugged his mother and patted her back until she stopped crying.

When Narcissa's crying subsided into a round of hiccups she told him quietly, "Oh, my dear Draco. Thank you - don't mind me, I was just being silly."

Draco eyed her suspiciously but let her be. She obviously didn't want to share the reason for her grief. Instead he sat down next to her, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. The next morning Draco awoke from a nightmare about his mom sobbing heart-brokenly. She had been alone in the dungeons, crying, and he couldn't get to her. She couldn't even see him, which was the frightening part - she loved him, he knew, and always wanted him to be happy, but here she had just ignored him. Draco shuddered, but when he heard an owl swoop by his window, he forgot about the nightmare entirely. This was the first time he had ever gotten any mail. When the snowy white owl landed on Draco's four poster bed, it stuck out one furry brown foot. Tied to it was a creamy parchment inscribed emerald-green ink:

Draco Malfoy, The Fourth-Floor Bedroom... And then his address, a complicated thing, as Malfoy's always hid their mansions. Curiously, Draco tore open the letter, written in the same emerald-green color, it said:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZADRY Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards) Dear Mr. Malfoy, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later then the thirty-first of July.

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

Draco turned the page and skimmed the list, which included the things he needed for this school. He didn't really notice much that concerned him until it came to the part about broomsticks. Upon reading this, he promptly flew into a rage and started throwing things around his room. When Narcissa came into the room to see what all the noise was about, she stopped him using a simple spell. She pulled out her wand and said something that sounded like, "Locomotor Mortis." Draco felt his legs freeze, tipping over, windmilling his arms.

"Now then, what's all this about, hm, dear?" asked Narcissa, releasing Draco from the spell. He climbed to his feet, wincing.

"They won't let me take my Cleansweep to school!" shouted Draco.

"What did you expect, dear? It's an old rule - and in any case, I wouldn't let you if they did. You're only eleven; you'd break your neck. I was against your father buying you the wretched thing, in any case - even under his supervision, you took a long time to learn."

"Hrumph," said Draco, but didn't add on what he wanted to. He didn't want her to cry again.

"I guess you got your acceptance letter to Hogwarts, eh?" his mother said, would-be calmly.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Draco respectfully, if a bit sullenly.

At this Narcissa let out one small tear, letting it run down her porcelain cheek. She quickly walked out the door and picked up some powder from the fireplace, flinging the handful of sparkling stuff into the flames.

"Lucius Malfoy, Hogwarts Governors' Office," shouted Narcissa into the flames.

Within seconds Lucius' head popped into the fireplace. He seemed quite surprised to be summoned from his job to talk to his wife.

"Your son," said Narcissa through clenched teeth, "has received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts. I hope you're happy. I could agree with sending him to Durmstrang now, but it's too late."

Narcissa then turned on her heel and stalked off, leaving Lucius to stare at her straight back. Lucius remained there, stunned silent, for a moment, before exiting the fireplace to talk to the Minister of Magic. He asked for a day's leave because of family emergencies. He quickly got permission, likely partly due to the chill of the hard glare he shot the minister.

Striding back to his office, he took a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the angry yellow flames, turning them a brilliant, Slytherin emerald green. Then, with a shout of, "Malfoy Manor!" Lucius stepped into the fireplace with all the grace a man can muster when stepping into a sooty fireplace and was sent home.

When Lucius reached his destination he leapt out of the grate, dusted himself off, and aimed an angry kick in the direction of a house elf that was in his way. Lucius found Draco in the Quidditch pitch, polishing his new broom. He had gotten the broom for Draco as a surprise present to try and make up for the curse he was going to have to put on him. The broom was sleek and graceful and seemed like the best present to give to Draco. "Hello, father," muttered a grumpy Draco.

Getting straight to the point Lucius said, " I heard you have received a letter from Hogwarts. Is this correct?"

"Yes, sir," replied Draco, managing a small smile.

"Well, then, let me see it," said Lucius impatiently.

Draco pulled out the letter that he had received and gave it to his father. Lucius glanced at it and said, "Okay then Draco, we'll have to go shopping at Diagon Alley, you're going."

****

On September first, Draco, Lucius, and Narcissa had reached King's Cross Station early. Pushing Draco's trolley to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Narcissa was the first to run straight through the brick wall to the Hogwarts Express. After her came the other two members of the family.

"Good-bye, Draco," said Lucius stiffly, it was obvious he was very uncomfortable.

Draco held out his hand and Lucius took it, shaking hands - his father's handshake was firm and solemn. Lucius nodded and Draco turned around to face his teary eyed mother.

"Good-bye, Mother," said Draco, looking up at his crying mother regretfully. "Take care of yourself, all right, love? Try to - to stay strong..." Narcissa wailed loudly.

"Yes - of course, Mother," reassured Draco, a bit surprised - wasn't he always? - and giving her a tight hug.

When all the farewells were done, Lucius took Draco aside to a dark corner where he said his final farewells. "This wasn't my choice, Draco, truly," said Lucius, quickly and quietly.

"What wasn't your choice, father?" asked Draco anxiously.

There was something strange glinting in his father's gray eyes. Lucius didn't answer this question, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at his son's chest.

Then he said, in a deadly quiet whisper, "Imperio."

Draco felt a light, floating feeling come over him. It seemed as if he had been sent to Heaven, and he was an angel. Then he heard a voice clear and strong in his head telling him something. "Now, act as you normally do. You must hate Harry Potter, Draco, you must! Also, make sure you get sorted into Slytherin. It is the most honorable house. Go now, onto the train," his father ordered him silently. It seemed the most natural thing to do. Why not? Draco just let his legs take over but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

He turned around and there was his mother, standing next to him, crying, "Goodbye, my baby. Try to fight it, Draco, please try," Draco heard his mother saying to him brokenly.

This voice sounded very much like an echo.

"I must go on the train, Mother. Goodbye," replied Draco.

On the train Draco sat down with two enormous boys who were snoring away. Before he sat down, he had checked their foreheads to make sure one of them wasn't Potter. When he was sure that they weren't Potter he sat down on the plush red chairs. Draco got quite bored after awhile and woke up the two boys. Introducing himself, he found out that his two companions were Crabbe and Goyle, both also wanting to be in Slytherin. He had heard the names from his father. The two didn't seem to want to talk, so he just sat on the opposite side of them and stared out at the scenery. Suddenly he heard a voice in his head telling him to make an acquaintance with Potter and his friends. Again, he couldn't resist it and it seemed so peaceful and right. He got up and went for a walk around the Hogwarts express, looking for Potter and any friends that he might have made.