Fortune's Fool

Fortune's Fool

Chapter Two

Draco found himself in a dimly lit room. It was round, oval shaped, and furnished with torture devises that made his skin crawl. In one corner stood an Iron Maiden, fresh blood pooled at its feet. Draco felt sick. His stomach lurched as he looked around him. Just across from him was a large iron banded door. He started towards that door, walking very slowly, fearing what was behind it. He reached it and grabbed hold of the handle. He hesitated, and then pushed the door open.

It opened silently as if it were well oiled. He slipped through the door even more silently than he had opened it. The room he stepped into was damp and dark, lit only by a dim, thin stream of moonlight that filtered in through a small dusty window high on the wall. He gulped as he walked across the room. On the far wall was a dark silhouette, crouched down in the center of the wall. As he grew closer, he saw the silhouette in greater detail. It was a woman, and she was beautiful even though she had defiantly been locked up in this dungeon for quite some time and she was starved and thin. Her platinum hair was long and fell over her face. She lifted her head as Draco approached. She really was beautiful, so beautiful, in fact, that she had a radiance that was all her own, as if she held sunlight in her very skin. She smiled at him. "Hello, Draco," she said softly. Her voice was hoarse from starvation and torture.

Draco felt his eyes stinging. He stepped forward, kneeling down. He reached out a hand and touched her cheek. She moved an arm as if to try and hold his hand, or him, he wasn't sure, but she couldn't; she was chained to the wall. This made her frown and her eyes filled with sadness.

Draco moved away from her as he heard footsteps approaching. The woman's head snapped up just as a tall and menacing looking man entered the room. Draco backed away convulsively from the man. He would have narrowed his eyes in anger if they weren't wide with fear. It was Lucius Malfoy. He stepped forward, a smile creeping across his mouth at the sight of Draco. He seemed larger than he was now, much larger. He bent down but was still taller than Draco and looking down at him and into his eyes. Draco tried to turn his eyes away, but couldn't, for as soon as his head jerked away, Lucius' hand shot out and grabbed his face in his large hand, forcing Draco to look at him. "I'm glad you're here," Lucius said, his eyes glinting with something that Draco couldn't quite place. "I was going to bring you down here anyway."

Draco didn't know why, but his stomach lurched with apprehension. Lucius let go of him and stood up, backing away a bit. He reaching into his robes and pulled something out. Draco couldn't tell what, it was too dark. Lucius pointed it towards the woman next to Draco and muttered something under his breath. At once, the woman was screaming. It was a high pitched and full of agony. She was twitching and pulling at her restraints and her eyes were wide. Draco wanted to scream, too; to yell at Lucius to stop, to drown out her screams with his own fear filled ones, but he found he couldn't make a sound. His throat was tight and dry and he could feel tears rolling down his cheeks and silent sobs racking his body.

Draco's eyes snapped open. He bolted upright, gasping for breath and soaked in a cold sweat. "Draco!" sighed someone next to him. He turned to see Snape and Dumbledore standing next to a sofa in Dumbledore's office in which he was lying on. Snape looked relieved and Dumbledore looked as if he was going to have a heart attack.

Draco was still gasping for breath, yet he managed to croak out, "Wh-what happened?"

Snape was the one who answered. "You had a bad dream," he explained. "You were screaming and throwing punches at me." It was just then that Draco noticed a steadily purpling bruise right under Snape's right eye. "By the way, did you know you had such a good left hook?"

Draco snorted out a short laugh and shook his head. "What were you dreaming about?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco felt the small smile that had crept onto his features vanish in an instance. Something I never wanted to think of again, he thought to himself. "Umm... I was... it was nothing," he lied, not feeling like sharing his dramas with Dumbledore or Snape. Snape opened his mouth as if to say something, but Dumbledore stopped him with a firm grasp on his arm and a stern look that told Snape to leave it be. Snape nodded in silent understanding, and then turned back to Draco. "Alright," he said with a softness in his voice that was almost as rare as Draco saying something nice to Harry or any of his friends.

Draco sat in silence for a few, long minutes. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at Dumbledore. "Professor, may I leave. I'd like to lie down." Dumbledore nodded and stepped out of Draco's way to let him stand up. He wavered slightly, feeling a bit dizzy. He held a hand lightly to his head as blood rushed from it. He suddenly felt strange. He took a step and stopped. His throat tightened up and it became quite hard to breath. He gasped for air, clutching a hand to his chest as a sharp pain rushed through him and he threw out his other to try and steady himself. He felt a hand on his arm. He wanted to look up and see who was there, but couldn't. He found it increasingly harder to breath. He felt dizzy and light-headed. Suddenly, he lost his balance and fell back, his world going black for the second time that day.

*****

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked quickly and quietly under Harry's invisibility cloak later that night, heading for Hagrid's hut. It didn't take them long to get there, as they used many of the short cuts that Harry had found using the Marauder's Map. Harry knocked on the door and waited. No one answered. He frowned and knocked again. Still no answer. The three friends backed away from the door, looking in each other's direction. "Why isn't he answering?" Harry asked.

"Mustn't be home," Hermione said knowingly. "I didn't hear Fang. Did you?"

"Nope," Ron put in. "But that's strange. He's usually home on Friday nights."

Harry shrugged to himself. "Maybe he's just--" He stopped, so suddenly that Hermione, maybe Ron, but more likely Hermione, put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He spun around, hearing footsteps and voices. He felt Hermione and Ron follow his actions and turn as well. In the distance, they could see three figures walking quickly towards them, one of them, a large, hairy figure, which they recognized immediately. Hagrid. They hurried off the steps in front of Hagrid door and waited silently as the figures approached, their conversation growing clearer.

"Hagrid, I'm glad you showed up when you did. I've never seen a fit like that before," Harry heard Dumbledore's voice said. "But, perhaps it's just a hoax. He didn't seem that thrilled with our idea."

The three figures drew closer and stepped into the lamplight in front of Hagrid's hut. Hagrid and Dumbledore along with Snape, who looked as if he had just been pulled out of a snake pit. Behind them, Harry could see Fang, looking his usual excited self. Snape spoke up, his voice a little shaky, "No. That was no act. Draco would not pretend like that. He may not be the most honest boy in the world, but he would not pull that kind of stunt."

"Are you sure, Snape?" Hagrid asked, his eyes narrowed. He didn't look too happy about letting Snape in his house, but he didn't look like he had much of a choice, either. "Tha' boy would do anythin' fer attention."

"He didn't have much of an audience, now, did he?" Snape snarled.

"I don't think there is anything wrong with him," Dumbledore said, sounding convinced. "He had quite a bad scare earlier. It's probably just a fainting spell."

Snape didn't look quite so convinced. "I must be going. I'm going to check on Draco and see if he's awake yet." With that, Snape spun around and hurried back to the castle. Dumbledore watched him leave, and then turned back to Hagrid.

"By the way, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Dumbledore asked. "Assuming that you wanted to talk to me?"

Hagrid nodded and opened the door to his hut. Dumbledore, followed by Fang and Hagrid himself, disappeared into the hut. Harry looked in the direction of Ron and Hermione. "What was that all about?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said softly.

"Why don't we go find out?" Ron suggested. "I'm sure Malfoy would be in the infirmary, why don't we go see what's up?"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because I want to know what they were talking about!" Ron exclaimed excitedly, thankfully keeping his voice down.

Harry nodded. "I guess so. What could it hurt?" They silently agreed, though Hermione mumbled something about people's privacy as they walked quickly across the grounds back towards the school. They hurried down the corridors toward the infirmary, trying but not succeeding to keep their footsteps soft. They reached the infirmary and found the door already open. Harry cast a curious glance in Ron and Hermione's direction, though he knew they couldn't wee him. They silently walked into the infirmary. Ron had been right. Across the room, in the only occupied bed in the wing, was Draco Malfoy. He was awake and sitting up, but he looked tired and was breathing hard, as if he had run a mile. Sitting next to him was Snape. They were talking silently, but as they continued Draco's face flushed with frustration. Harry, Ron and Hermione crept closer to be able to hear.

"What do you mean 'heat stroke'?" Draco asked, anger in his voice. "I couldn't breath and I was dizzy and I couldn't see and you say it was heat stroke!?"

Snape nodded, remaining clam. "That was all it was. You're fine. I assure you."

Draco sighed, his face still flushed. "For some reason, I can't believe you," he said softly.

"Why?" Snape asked. His face was full of concern, which startled Harry. He'd never seen such a look on Snape's face.

Draco didn't look startled at all; in fact, he seemed calmed by the look. He hung his head and said softly, "I don't know why, but I feel like there's something terribly wrong. I can't explain it; I just feel it. It's like when you have a vision of something horrible, and yet you just cannot put a finger on it. Do you understand?"

Snape nodded and placed a hand on Draco's arm. "I understand, but I'm telling you, you fainted because of heat stroke. Nothing is wrong with you. You should know by now that you can trust me." Draco nodded and drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them, still looking up at Snape.

There was silence for a moment, but then Draco suddenly jerked forward and started coughing. Snape pulled a handkerchief out quickly and handed it to Draco between fits of coughing. Draco accepted it quickly before another wave of coughing came over him. After he finally stopped, he fell back, breathing hard. His breathing finally slowed and exhaustion fell over him like a warm blanket. Snape stood up and turned, not noticing the handkerchief falling from Draco's hand to the floor. Harry, Ron and Hermione stepped quickly out of Snape's way as he hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The three threw the invisibility cloak to the floor and exchanged confused glances. Hermione hurried over to the bed where Draco was now sleeping and bent down, picking up the fallen handkerchief. She stared at it for a moment before gasping, dropping the handkerchief and backing away slowly, staring at the bed where Draco lay.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, hurrying over to Hermione.

"It-- it's... blood," she stammered, her voice low and shaky.

"What?" Ron gasped. Hermione pointed to the handkerchief. Ron picked it up and his eyes grew very wide. He showed it to Harry. Hermione was right. The handkerchief was stained with specks of fresh blood. "He's coughing up blood?" he asked.

Harry looked at Hermione, who was shaking. She nodded. "I don't think he fainted because of heat stroke," she whispered. Harry motioned for them to go. Ron nodded, tossing the bloody handkerchief to the ground and pulling Hermione over to where they had dropped the invisibility cloak. "C'mon, Harry," Ron said quickly and quietly. "We need to go. Someone might come!"

Harry nodded. "I'll be out in a second," he said.

"What for?" Hermione asked. "What are you going to do?"

"I just want to grab something. I've had a tinge of a headache since this afternoon."

"Oh," Ron said. He nodded, turned around and picked up the invisibility cloak. "Hurry though. We'll wait outside." He and Hermione exited the infirmary and quietly shut the door. Harry waited until he heard the click of the door before he rushed back over to the bed and picked up the handkerchief. He didn't know why he wanted to, but he did anyway. Maybe because he wanted to make sure it wasn't a hoax. He shoved the handkerchief into his pocket and hurried out of the room.

"Did you get what you needed?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. I feel better now," he lied. Hermione and Ron nodded and Ron threw the invisibility cloak over them and they hurried down the halls back to the Gryffindor Tower.

*****

Draco woke up in the Hospital Wing the next morning, feeling a bit better. He looked around, but the only person there was Madam Pomfrey, who was standing at the foot of his bed, her hands on her hips. "You seem fine," she said, gesturing for him to get up. Draco obeyed. He was already dressed, as he hadn't changed before he fell asleep. Madam Pomfrey shooed him out of the infirmary, closing the door behind him as he walked into the corridor. He hurried through the empty halls, everyone being either outside or in their Common Rooms. Draco was again pleased to see that the Slytherin Common Room was empty as he hurried through it and up to his dorm. When he got there, he threw himself onto his bed and lay there still and in silence for quite some time. Finally, he moved.

Draco rolled over on his side and stared at the shelf by his bed that was full of books. He shot his hand out and pulled a book randomly from the shelf. Muggle Laws 'Round the World read the title. Why had he bought this? Oh, yeah. That's right. He bought it to spite his father. And it had ticked him off, much to Draco's pleasure and pain. He hadn't been happy about his father's annoyance for long. But why had he read the book after he had achieved what he had wanted? Why had he even kept it? That, he was sure, he would never know. Draco shrugged and opened the book. He lazily started thumbing through it, until he came to a chapter on the U.S. Constitution. Americans...he thought, shaking his heads. At least they know how to organize everything. He started thumbing through the book again, but he didn't really look at anything; he just seemed to do it to cure his boredom for a while. Finally, he grew bored and he put the book back and pulled out another, thicker book, The Lord of the Rings. Another Muggle book that he had bought to spite his father. But this one, he had liked immensely. In fact, he had looked for other book the Muggle author, J.R.R. Tolkien, had written, later finding and reading The Hobbit and The Silmarillion.

Draco scoffed. You actually got into a Muggle book! He laughed, shaking his head. But, despite that thought, he opened the book and started reading it again. He sat there for hours, immersed in the story. It was nearly evening when he finally marked his spot and closed the book, and he only did that because Crabbe and Goyle entered the dorm room. "Hello," Draco said lightly, putting the book back on the shelf. Crabbe and Goyle replied by nodding their heads. They sat down in the middle of the floor and pulled out a wooden board and eight pieces, four red, four blue, and started playing Parcheesi, a game they had discovered while on a trip to New York with Draco and his Uncle Augustus for his 15^th birthday (they had gone to see Evita on Broadway). They glanced up from their game as Draco sat down between them. "Still hooked on that, eh?" he asked, laughing.

"Yep," Crabbe said.

"Wanna play?" Goyle asked.

"No thanks," Draco said, leaned back against one of the bedposts. "I'd rather read."

"What's with you and books?" Goyle asked.

"Books are for mooks," Crabbe said.

Draco shook his head and laughed. "You guys are strange," he said. He received grins from both of Crabbe and Goyle for this remark, which only caused him to laugh harder. "Like I said, strange."

*****

The next week was quite uneventful. Before he knew it, Draco was boarding the Hogwarts Express for home. He didn't want to go. In fact, he was dreading it greatly. He feared what would happen when he got back to the manor, but while he was on the train, he was determined not to think of it. He sat in a compartment with Crabbe and Goyle, who were still playing Parcheesi, and stared out the window, so quite that it was almost creepy. He absently petted his Eagle Owl, Claudia, on her head. Crabbe kept glancing up at him, but didn't say anything. Draco was always like that on the train rides home.

"It's your move," Goyle said irritably. Crabbe didn't lift his gaze from Draco. "Hey! Crabbe! It's your move!"

"Oh!" Crabbe blushed and picked up the dice. He rolled and got a five. "Ha! I've got all my guys out and you've only got two!"

"So," Goyle said, glancing up at Draco. "What's wrong with him? He hasn't spoken all day!"

"Goyle, he almost never speaks on the way home. He's always been like that," Crabbe said sadly. Goyle nodded, and then turned back to the game.

*****

The train finally squealed to its stop and the students eager to get home pushed and shoved their way onto the platform. Draco waited patiently as the crowd cleared up slowly, and then he dragged himself and his trunk off the train. Claudia was in her cage atop his trunk and she was fast asleep. Draco looked around the platform quickly until he spotted the Malfoy's French maid, Mandolin, on the other end of the platform with a trolley. She was dressed in a long black dress, black-heeled sandals and black gloves. She waved and hurried over. She kissed him on the cheek and loaded his trunk and Claudia on the trolley, and then she lead him off the platform and to a wizard cab, 'For those who can't Apparate! Less dizzying than Floo Powder!' They always arrived at the manor in a cab. The ride was normal enough, but the only thing Draco had never looked forward to was the hour and a half long ride up to the manor. Even though wizard cabs were faster, as they took roads that were unavailable to Muggle cars and could squeeze into places normal Muggle cars couldn't, they still took quite a while to get to the manor.

Finally, they reached the manor and Mandolin paid the driver after he pulling Draco's luggage out of the trunk. The manor looked normal enough, for a mansion in the country, at least. Three floors, 245 rooms and enough land to hold a hundred quidditch fields, not to mention it was shadowed by a thick, dark forest. Draco shuddered. He couldn't have just gone strait to that boot camp?

Mandolin noticed his shudder. "'Twill be all right, baby boy," she cooed. Draco growled. She knew he hated being called that, but he never said anything about it. "I'm sure he wont be all that angry."

Draco seriously doubted this, but said nothing. He started off towards the manor, Mandolin hurrying after him, levitating his trunk and Claudia in front of her. Draco felt small as they entered the huge manor. Everything in the manor gave off a sense of superiority. Even Narcissa's cat, Christine, walked around with her chin held high and her tail in the air. This annoyed Draco. Acting superior to keep up an image, that was one thing, but to actually believe it? How stupid were they all? Draco wasn't sure he wanted to know.

The manor was a lonely place, but it was beautiful. Of course it was. If you were as rich as the Malfoys, would you live in an ugly house? Apparently not. At least, the Malfoys thought that way. Draco dragged himself up the sweeping staircase that lead to the second floor and towards his room. He pulled open the large double door to his quarters and sauntered in, his head down. He stopped in the middle of his room. The room was decorated with expensive looking furniture; hand carved wooden tables surrounded by comfy armchairs and sofas, a queen size bed took up the far wall of the room by a tall stained glass window depicting a scene from the legend of Merlin and silk curtains were hung around the bed. Draco hauled himself over to his bed and flopped down onto it. He sighed heavily. He was not happy to be home, but he was glad he was alone.

Suddenly the door swung open causing Draco to jump to his feet. It was Narcissa. He narrowed his eyes at his stepmother. "What do you want?" he growled.

Narcissa walked towards him, hands on her hips. "Your father wants to speak with you. And if I were you, I'd show more respect to your mother."

Draco pushed past her and pulled the door open. He paused and turned back to Narcissa. "You are not my mother," he growled. He turned and slammed the door behind him. He stomped down the halls of the manor towards Lucius' study in a huff. The one thing about Narcissa that he hated the most was that he was forced to call her 'mother' and act like family around her in public to maintain his father's 'image'.

He reached Lucius' study and paused, taking a deep breath. Ok, relax. He reached for the doorknob and hesitated. I can't do this! He spun around and was about to walk away when the study door swung open.

"And just where do you think you are going?" came the cold voice from inside the study. Draco stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned around and walked into the study. Lucius was sitting with the back of his chair to Draco. The chair slowly turned around to face him. Draco felt as if he were stuck in some strange, twisted old Muggle film. Lucius was now facing him, a scowl on his lips. "When you are called, do you have a choice of when you come?" Lucius asked coldly. Draco shook his head. He was trembling now. "And, when you mother comes to you, do you disrespect her the way you did just now?" Draco again shook his head. Lucius stood up and walked over to his son. Draco looked down at the ground, afraid to look Lucius in the face. Lucius grabbed Draco's chin and forced his face up to look at him. "And when I tell you to terminate someone, do you come home with them still alive?" he roared.

Draco didn't respond. He was trembling so hard from fear that he could barely move. Lucius growled and slapped Draco so hard that he was sent to the floor. Draco looked up at Lucius with fear in his silvery eyes. "Answer me!" Draco shook his head vigorously and backed away from Lucius and into the wall. Lucius towered over the boy, his eyes blazing with fury. "How hard is it to just kill that boy?" Lucius' voice was rising with anger and it was beginning to hurt Draco's ears, but he said nothing.

Lucius was breathing hard and looked as if he were ready to snap someone's neck. Draco could feel the edges of his eyes stinging with tears, but he forced them back. Lucius kicked him hard in the stomach. Draco doubled over, clutching his middle and gasping. Lucius knelt down so that he was just barely taller than his son. He forced Draco to face him once again, his hand gripping Draco's face so hard that it hurt him, but Lucius didn't care. "Why can't you just do as you are told?" he hissed, his other hand tracing Draco's sharp cheekbones. "Why do make me do this?" Draco took in a sharp breath to try and calm himself. Lucius growled and smacked Draco again. "I give you one simple assignment and you can't even complete it! Do you know how that makes me look? How can you ever call yourself a Malfoy?" Lucius kicked him again and again in his stomach and the side of his head, forcing yelps and cries of pain to escape the boy's throat.

"You are a weak fool," he sighed, finally stopping and backing away from his son. "Get out of my sight."

Draco scrambled to his feet, wavering slightly from the pain and dizziness the beating had caused, and ran out of the study and back to his room. When he reached his room, he slammed the door shut and threw himself on his bed. He buried his face in a pillow. He wanted to scream, to run away, to run far away from what would undoubtedly happen. He considered himself lucky this time as he had come out of his encounter with Lucius with only a few minor cuts and scrapes, compared to the wounds he had received before. Draco was so caught up in trying to force his angry tears back that he never even noticed another presence in the room until a soft hand squeezed his shoulder. He jumped and sprang into a sitting position, turning to face his visitor. Mandolin sat on the edge of his bed, an expression of sorrow on her pretty face. Draco sighed with relief.

Mandolin gathered him into a tight hug, as she always did when Draco had been hurt in some way. His shaking calmed and eventually stopped as the minutes rolled by. Mandolin pulled away from him and picked a damp handkerchief from the table next to the bed and started to clean the wounds of the boy's face. Draco sat silently and allowed her to continue. When she was finished, Draco lay back on the bed and curled in on himself. Mandolin softly stroked his hair, calming him further. Draco let his eyes slid shut and he relaxed and eventually fell into the world of sleep.

*****

Harry chatted with Ron and Hermione about their plans for summer vacation as they hurried off Platform 9 and ¾. Hermione was spending the summer with Ron and was going with him to see his uncle, Jeremiah, who lived in Transylvania were he studied the history of wizard involvement in the reins of Romanian leaders, Vlad Dragula in particular. Hermione was chatting animatedly about it, waving her arms about as she described the way that Prince Vlad would impale his victims and then dine among them, dipping his bread in their blood and eating it. Harry's stomach gave a lurch at the thought of someone dining among a load of corpses on spikes. "That's really sick," he said when Hermione was finished.

"People believe that he was a vampire!" Hermione continued, ignoring Harry. "If you read the Muggle story of Dracula, the author actually modeled his Dracula after Vlad Dragula. That's even how Dracula got his name! Isn't that exciting?"

"No, that's just revolting! How could anyone find that interesting?" Ron asked. Hermione glared at him as they met up with the Weasleys. Harry waved goodbye and shouted a promise that he would send them a letter when he got to America. They nodded back and hurried off after Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry's smile faded as he searched the train station for his aunt and uncle. His eyes fell upon Draco Malfoy as he came through the barrier with a rather attractive woman in her mid-twenties wearing all black, her dress hugging her curves nicely. He watched as they disappeared into a bright green cab and left. He sighed and began looking for his relations again.

After a nice long walk out to the entrance to King's Cross Station, he finally spotted them. They were waiting impatiently in their car. Mr. Dursley quickly stepped out of the car, snatched up his things, causing Hedwig to squall irritably as she was shoved in the boot with Harry's trunk. Harry quickly retrieved her before Mr. Dursley shut the lid and hurried back into the car. Harry did the same and squirmed uncomfortably as the car drove off into the traffic jam that was the main highway.

Mr. Dursley hummed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as their car slowly moved down the road. Dudley was poking Harry in the head with his stubby little finger and taunting him about getting in trouble. Harry tried his best to ignore his cousin's normal behavior and scooted as far away from him as possible, pressed uncomfortably against the door for the entire ride back to Number Four.

The car finally pulled up in the driveway of Number Four and the Dursley's climbed out quickly and hurried into the house, leaving Harry to pull his own trunk out of the boot and haul it into the house. Harry grumbled to himself as he hauled the heavy trunk into the house and up the stairs to his room. He pushed it to the end of his bed and plopped down on the bed. He sighed. He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but he was actually looking forward to Boot Camp. He smiled as he thought of messing with Draco's head as they flew to America. He was hard to scare, but it was fun to try. Suddenly, the smile on his face vanished as he thought of that night in the hospital wing and seeing the bloody handkerchief. A shudder ran up his spine, but he couldn't shake the thought out of his head.

He pulled out a book, Muggle Military 'Round the World and began reading. After a half hour, he began to feel sleepy. He lay back on the bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

*****

The first three weeks of summer were, as usual, pure hell for Draco. He stayed shut up in his room an avoided both Narcissa and Lucius, when he could. Lucius always seemed to be everywhere. Draco couldn't even go down stairs for a bite to eat without running into his father. But, he survived the weeks and finally it was the last day home. He had everything packed and was lying on his stomach on his bed reading The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers when his bedroom door swung open and hit the wall with a bang. He jumped and hid the book under a pillow as Lucius stomped into the room. Draco stood up, trembling as his father walked towards him.

"You haven't been able to complete your assignment yet, and I must say I'm not happy about it," Lucius said menacingly, backing Draco into one of his bedposts. Draco's silvery-gray eyes quivered with fear as he tried not to look into Lucius' angry ones. Lucius grabbed his chin and forced his face upwards, forcing Draco to look into his eyes. "I have tolerated your failure, but if you think the Dark Lord will, oh, you have another thing coming. He grows impatient and even weary of the excuses I have made for you." Lucius' eyes grew even angrier at the thought of actually making excuses for the boy and he gripped his face tighter, causing Draco to gasp in pain. "He gives you a week and a half to finish you're assignment. Kill Potter and don't come home until you do, unless you want your life to take the place of his." Draco nodded, hoping Lucius would leave, but he didn't. "Now, how hard is this? Just kill him and make it look like an accident. You are lucky to be getting this chance, boy, very lucky. You should have been disposed of a long time ago. You are nothing but a thorn in my side and I'm sick of failure. Do you understand me?" Lucius' voice was low and threatening, making Draco shake with fear. Draco nodded. Lucius backed away, and Draco felt some relief. "Remember, boy. If you dare come back and Potter is still alive, I will not hesitate to accidentally let you die." With that, he spun on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Draco slid to the floor, shaking with fear. He had never killed anyone or anything in his life! How could Lucius think that this would be easy? Not to mention, if he did do this, he would probably be sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life. But, then again, wouldn't Azkaban be better than this? Draco hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms. This wasn't fair! Why did he have to live a life like this?

He felt tired suddenly, as if he had just done something that required vast amounts of energy. His eyes slid closed and he drifted off to sleep.

*****

Draco found himself on a horse in a field of wildflowers by a riverside hut. The grass was tall and the smell of the flowers was soft and calming. A tree rose out of the grass in a few places. The river water was clear and sparkled in the warm mid-day sun. Draco could see silver fish swimming in the clear water and he gasped with happiness as he saw one jump out of the water, it's silver scales shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

He felt a pair of arms wrap around his chest. He felt small in them, but it didn't matter. He looked up to see the lovely woman who was holding him. He smile was bright and it lit up her face and made her blue eyes sparkle. Her platinum hair shined in the sunlight. She tilted her head, causing her long hair to fall down and encircle Draco's small frame. Draco smiled as she tightened on arm around him, holding him snug in the saddle. She grabbed the reins in the other hand and she gently nudged her heels in the horse's side. It began to trot towards the hut, its golden-brown mane swinging in time with it's bouncing strides. Draco giggled as he bobbed up and down in the saddle.

They reached the hut and the woman jumped down from the saddle and then picked Draco up from the saddle and carried him to the hut. She unlocked the door and went inside. She set Draco down on a fluffy carpet and pulled a wand out and started a fire in the grate. Draco walked over to a sofa, which was quite a bit larger than him, and he tried to climb up onto it, but failed and he fell to the ground and scraped his arm. He whimpered and tears streaked down his cheeks as his arm throbbed with pain. The lady hurried over to him and picked him up in her arms. She sat down on the sofa and rocked back and forth with him in her arms, whispering in his ear. "Shush, my love," she cooed, stroking his hair. Draco's sobs subsided but he kept clinging to her, as if letting her go would mean he would loose her.

The scene faded and Draco was now in the large Main Hall of a castle. The woman was there, dressed in a plain yet pretty red dress, black gloves, a long scarlet hooded cloak, and her long blonde hair was held out of her eyes with a fancy gold dragon hair pin. She was talking to a tall man with black hair and brown eyes that was dressed in a black suit and was twirling a black cap in his hands. Draco walked forward. The two were much taller than him. The lady looked down at him and smiled. She bent down and gathered him in her arms. "We're going to go on a trip, honey," she said, smiling. Draco laid his head on her shoulder as she bade the man good-bye and walked out of the castle. Draco looked back at the castle, which was almost as large as Hogwarts. He clung tightly to the woman and whimpered as they got into a wizard cab and started to drive away from the castle. The cab rushed down the road and soon came to a train station. They got out, the lady paid the man, grabbed her luggage and Draco and carried them into the station and waited for their train to come. It wasn't a long wait, and they were soon on the train and on their way.

A few days and several train rides later, they were getting off the train and getting in another wizard cab. They were soon at a large manor and were being greeted by a young French maid wearing all black. She took their luggage and carried it into the mansion and the woman carried Draco and followed the maid at her heels. They entered the manor, which was smaller than the castle they had only recently left but seemed colder and emptier. A man was standing in the Drawing Room, waiting for them. When he saw Draco, he smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and sent a shiver down Draco's spine. The woman seemed to feel the shiver as she tightened her hold on the boy. The man stepped forward. "It's about time, Katrina," he said. Draco shivered at the sound of his voice. He didn't know why, but it scared him; the man scarred him.

"Hello, Lucius," Katrina said coldly. Draco cringed in her arms. He had never heard her voice so cold. "I see you've been waiting." The scene began to swirl and Draco woke up. He sat up in bed, his blankets and sheets sliding off his chest and scrunching up around his waist. He shook his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. He remembered the day he came home from his uncle Augustus' castle, which was located just north of Westphalia, Germany. He had been happy there, with her. Life had been nice and simple and calm and just plain pleasant. Why couldn't he have just stayed there? He knew that people hated him because he was bitter, but maybe if he had stayed there, he, too, would have been nice and pleasant. But, it was too late to change that now. What's done is done. And now, he was being forced to kill someone, or die himself.

Draco crawled out of bed, stood up and stretched. He yawned and glanced around, his eyes falling upon Mandolin, asleep in an armchair next to his bed. He gently shook her awake, receiving a blurry-eyed smile. "G'morning, Draco," she said sleepily. She stood up and stretched, then picked up a pair of blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt off the back of the chair and thrust them into Draco's arms.

"What's this?" Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"'Dis is what 'ou are wearing to de Airport. Dumbledore said to dress like a Muggle, so, 'ou are going to dress like a Muggle," Mandolin said. Draco gave the clothes a disgusted look, then nodded, going into the bathroom to wash up. He washed his face and brushed his teeth quickly, feeling all minty fresh as he pulled on the Muggle clothes.

He sleepily walked back into his bedroom and sat down and a comfy couch neat the grate. Mandolin set a bowl of porridge on the table in front of him and sat down next to him. Draco gave the porridge a narrow eyed glance then pushed to the center of the table. "Eat," Mandolin said, pushing the bowl back in front of him.

"I'm not hungry, Mandolin," Draco said in a small voice, leaning against the back of the couch and staring sadly into the red-orange flames of the fire. Mandolin gave him a strange look, shrugged and picked up the bowl and started for the door. "Call me if 'ou change your mind," she said softly as she left. Draco curled up on the couch, feeling cold despite the blazing fire in the grate. He suddenly felt sick, though he couldn't tell if it were the dream or the thought of killing someone. Whatever it was, he saw good reason in being sick in both.

The clock chimed ten and Mandolin came back in to tell him it was time to go. He slowly followed her down the stairs and out of the manor, feeling an odd mixture of sadness, fear and relief. A bright green Wizard cab was waiting in the courtyard to take them to the airport. Mandolin had already loaded his trunk into the boot and followed Draco into the car. They were off. Draco leaned back in his seat and let his eyes slid shut and he drifted off to sleep.

*****

Harry grunted as he dragged his trunk out the door of the Dursley's house and towards the car. It had been a strange three weeks. Vernon had done the math wrong and realized that Harry would actually be home for most of the summer and he had not been very happy about it. The Dursleys had not spoken to Harry at all except a few short words that formed orders for him to do something or other and most of the time Harry was up in his room, reading, which didn't bother him in the least except that it meant that he was there and not with his friends were in Romania. He sighed as he slid his trunk into the boot of Vernon's car and climbed into the front seat. Petunia and Dudley were staying at home. Vernon growled something under his breath as he started up the engine and backed out of the driveway and started down the road. The ride to the airport was uneventful. Harry stared out the window and watched the fields and homes fly by as they hurried down the highway.

"So," Vernon grunted, "what did you do?" Harry jumped and looked at Vernon, giving him an odd look.

"What?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I said, what did you do?" Vernon repeated, sounding annoyed at the fact that he was actually talking to Harry.

"Don't you know?" Harry asked irritably. "I thought Professor Dumbledore explained everything to you."

"No, he didn't," Vernon lied, gritting his teeth.

"I got into a fight," Harry growled.

'I know- I mean, isn't that surprising?" Vernon said quickly. He grumbled something under his breath as they continued down the road in silence. Harry slid down into his seat and shifted uneasily. Was Vernon Dursley just being nice to him? Or was he just making conversation? Either way, why? That was the first word that popped into Harry's mind. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Finally, Vernon pulled into the parking lot of the Birmingham International Airport. Harry jumped out of the car, popped the boot and hauled out his trunk. As soon as the boot was closed, Vernon pulled out of his parking spot and drove off. Harry dragged his trunk up to the entrance of the airport. The airport was crowded with people hurrying to get in line for security checks so not to miss their flights. Harry sat down on a bench, not really knowing what to do now, as Dumbledore hadn't really given any specific directions besides wait by the entrance. Luckily, Harry didn't need to wait long.

Dumbledore, clad in a pinstriped gray suit, gray hat and belt-buckle boots, soon came walking trough the entrance of the airport. He spotted Harry immediately and hurried over to him, sitting down on the bench next to him. "Has Draco arrived yet?" he asked. Harry shook his head no and leaned back against the back of the bench. The minutes rolled by slowly as the two sat waiting for their third companion to arrive.

Thirty minutes later a bright green cab drove up to the drop off in front of the airport. Dumbledore stood up and walked to the entrance just as the woman Harry had seen at the train station, this time dressed in a dark green dress and black heels, stepped out of the cab, followed by Draco. Draco hurried to the back, pulled out his trunk as the woman said something to Draco, getting a small nod out of the boy, before stepping back into the vehicle. Draco slowly walked into the airport, nodded to Dumbledore and sat down next to Harry. Dumbledore checked in their luggage, gave the two boys their tickets and got in line for security checks with them. Two hours or so later they were boarding the plane for New Jersey.