Sympathy for the Slytherin

Sympathy for the Slytherin

Prologue:
The City of the Dead

It was in one of the garbage towns that they found him. Not far from Mar Girgis, or what is commonly known as Coptic Cairo. In the City of the Dead, in the catacombs where the silent live, he was found rather unexpectedly, curled up amongst Muggle trash heaps. Two Ministry investigators, one rather disenchanted with his assignment and both still more disenchanted with not only Cairo but muggle Cairo went mostly out of curiosity to the seemingly endless stretch of ancient ruins in the middle of loud, grimy Egypt. There was rumored to be a sort of oracle there among the ashes, a witch who saw people that didn't want to be seen. They did not find the oracle, instead they found the boy.

It was what a young Coptic Egyptian had said to them when they asked around carefully, for the oracle.

"No...no gray lady...a magic child. Like you!"

He did not bring them to the boy, but gestured in the right direction.

It seemed too much to hope for, after scouring London...and then England and then most of western Europe until a faint clue, a misplaced key found in Edinborough by a Ministry peon led them to Cairo.

The two officers walked between three and two walled structures, among piles of garbage and attempts at shelter and crying infants and tired mothers and turned a corner and found him.

The second investigator by the name of Andrew, an American rookie of muggle parentage and a graduate of Hogwarts had followed this case since it's first report. He felt vested in his search by now. Andrew would later remember with interest that the boy, himself a young man by now was, in fact, not asleep at all but simply staring ahead at the thousand year old brick wall in front of him. They only recognized him by his hair. He stood out easily among the darker complexioned Arabs around him. His hair, dirty, oily but still of it's silverish tint, especially in the full moonlight seemed to glimmer. He lay on his side, hugging a sack. He wore his school cloak, the Hogwarts monogram barely seen under a layer of dirt and something that looked like blood. They saw his hair and they knelt down, knowing he would not run.

"Draco?" Andrew said softly.

And speaking to him, though they knew he would not answer.

"Can you hear me?"

They looked in his eyes and Andrew saw that they were not vacant at all, though Draco may have wanted them to seem so. But instead they were full of everything he bore and everything he had seen and could not turn from.

The older investigator sighed.

"We'd better get him to Ministry quarters."

Andrew picked up Draco Malfoy's seemingly lifeless hand that was dirty and scratched. It was like a boy's hand and also like a man's.

"Draco?"

The young wizard stared and did not blink.

"Can you hear me?"

*********************************************************

Four months following the death of Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa found herself staring at her uneaten breakfast when Luqy, the house elf, hesitantly hobbled into the room looking appropriately nervous.

"Madam! An official Ministry owl has come with official Ministry urgent message, Madam! Would Madam like her message?"

Narcissa felt her heart in her throat, "Yes! At once!"

Luqy scampered away and a moment later a chestnut spotted Ministry owl perched on the chair next to her. Narcissa took the parcel from the owl's talons with shaking fingers and unrolled it.

From: Ministry of Magic
Missing Persons Investigations Division

Lady Malfoy,
Concerning the whereabouts of your son, Draco Malfoy, he has been recovered alive in Cairo, Egypt. He is in stable condition at Ministry Quarters in Luxor but will be apperated to the Malfoy residence with delivery of reply. He was not well enough to be questioned on any matter at time of recovery. Please send reply as soon as possible.
Best Regards,
Mernchin Bun

Narcissa’s heart slipped back down her throat and instead began to race at an alarming speed.

Four months. Four months following her most wished for desire come true and her worst fear all in the same moment. Four months having no idea where her only child was. Child. He had turned sixteen just days ago. She had wept for hours, shut up in her room on that day. And now he would be home.

She quickly scratched out a reply in uneasy handwriting.

Mr. Bun,
You'll never know how grateful I am for your work on this matter. Thank you. Send Draco immediately.
Thank you again,
Narcissa Malfoy

She tied the note to the owl's talon and sent him away, staring down at the long awaited letter. She had doubted long ago. But still she insisted they search. He was not dead, she said. She would have felt it.

He was not well enough to be questioned on any matter...

That was the troubling statement. In stable condition but not well enough to be questioned... Narcissa had known early enough that should Draco actually be recovered he would certainly have a story to tell. Assuming all the evidence was correct. It had taken weeks for her to come to terms with the possibility that he might be traumatized in some serious way. And certainly the Ministry would want to speak to him when it was possible.

...not well enough...

How bad was it, she wondered... And yet, the thrill returned, he was alive.

He was alive.

And she could go on.

*********************************************************

It took two weeks from his arrival home before he spoke. Narcissa left him in bed. Cared for him almost obsessively all day, constantly consulting with the Ministry doctor who had cared for him in Luxor. Dr. Glass said he was surprised Draco had come around so soon. Certainly he was physically well by now. Recovered only from a few minor injuries and one major half healed one, Draco still lay in bed, nearly catatonic. Narcissa insisted that there must be something the healing wizard could do.

Dr. Glass always said the same thing.

"It's in his mind, Lady Malfoy. He will reveal himself only when he wishes to."

Finally, Narcissa sent the doctor away. But she continued her ministrations over Draco. Until one day as she took away another untouched breakfast tray, he grabbed her wrist.

She was so startled she dropped the dishes, baronay eggs, firth tea and all to shatter on the floor. She sat on the edge of the bed, tears falling and clutched his shoulders as he stared at her imploringly.

"Mother..." He whispered, his brow furrowing as if it were a new word.

She held his face in her hands and wept, "Draco! My son..."

He looked down and she started to see a return to something like reality in his eyes.

"Mother...I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "No..." She pulled him into an embrace and she wept because he could not.

"I killed him," He breathed, no inflection to his voice, "I killed him...I killed him."