All Fall Down

At the burrow, Percy Weasley's party was in full swing. Thank god for Penelope, thought the redheaded Hogwarts graduate, watching from his vantage point at the kitchen table, as his beloved fiancée floated around the room, laughing and talking to the various relatives and friends that had come to wish him well. He'd never been all that social, had never really known that all these people cared about him, and didn't know how to take it. But Penny guided him through the steps, helped him greet the newcomers, and suggested which desserts to try first. Without her, he didn't know where he'd be.

"I'd like to propose a toast," someone said, and Percy turned around to see his father, Arthur Weasley standing up. Slowly, the talk died down, and all heads turned to watch. Arthur smiled. "I'd like to propose a toast to my son, Percy Weasley, the youngest ever Minister of Magic!" Everyone cheered. Percy hid his face in his sleeve.

"May he have a long and prosperous life," piped up Penelope, giving him a one armed hug.

"May our country survive his reign," George whispered loudly to Fred.

"May he learn to have some fun! Life's too short, enjoy it before it's over," said Charlie, elbowing Percy in the ribs and grinning widely.

"TO PERCY!" Everyone chorused, clinked their glasses, and the talk started up again. Percy managed to squeeze away from the group, dragging Penny with him. They walked over into a deserted corner, and Percy shook his head, his face bright red.

"Honestly, Penny, this is ridiculous. All these people...and I think Bill's getting drunk," he finished, looking across the room to where his oldest brother was flirting outrageously with Charlie's wife, who was looking quite amused with the whole situation.

Penny laughed. "You deserve it, you've been working so hard lately. Why don't you just loosen up and have some fun? Isn't that your cousin Antigone over there? Let's go say hello."

"No, wait!" Percy couldn't help chuckling, as he slid his arms around Penny. "Let me be for just a moment, then we can go humor the relatives. I haven't had a peaceful moment all evening..."

But at that moment, there was a large crash, and both Percy and Penelope turned to see a small table had been overturned, and Bill was standing next to it, looking sheepish. Charlie laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder, leading him away and over to the sofa. "Bill, you're drunk. Come, come sit down."

"Yeah...yeah...sure...m'coming...hey!" He turned and smiled at a girl from Percy's year at Hogwarts, who gave him an odd look and moved away. Charlie chuckled again. "Come on, Bill...she's too young for you, anyway."

"Eh?" Asked Bill, letting himself be led away. Percy shook his head.

"Where's Ginny?" He asked suddenly, looking around. "I haven't seen her all evening..."

"She wasn't feeling well," said Penelope. "She was here earlier, said she had a headache and went off to bed. Maybe she'll come down later, although it's probably better that she's not here," and Penny giggled, gesturing to where was now seated. "Come on, Antigone looks like she's coming over here."

* * * * *

Ginny sat in bed listening to the commotion downstairs. Sighing, she rolled over, and watched out the window as the owls of the various guests flitted around, waiting for their owners to come and retrieve them. A stab of pain shot through her forehead, and she lay back again, blowing out a long, frustrated breath. "Perfect," she muttered to herself, "Just what I need, to get sick the day before I go off to school again."

Closing her eyes, Ginny tried to sleep, but to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw a green flash, and felt sick to her stomach. She thought of asking her parents to take her to the doctor the next day, but she didn't want to worry them too much. They were already frazzled about sending Percy off on his own. It had been quite amusing, listening in on their conversations with him about his future.

"Now, Percy, you will be careful, won't you? With Penelope, I mean."

"MOM!!" She'd peered around the door, and saw him blushing redder than she'd ever seen him, even when he'd been caught kissing Penny in his sixth year. Ginny approved of Percy's choice, and she liked the tall, dark haired girl, and her quick wit and ringing laugh. She saw the way Percy looked at her all the time; the way his whole face changed and he didn't look so unapproachable anymore.

I wonder if I'll ever find someone for me like that, Ginny thought, hearing Harry's voice from downstairs. Someone who can make me smile like that, someone who really cares about me. Harry...well, he was just a crush, a passing fancy, she was sure of that. And he'd never even look twice at her...he'd never seen her as more than his best friend's sister. None of the boys of her year had shown any interest in, really. She'd gone to the Yule ball with Neville Longbottom, who couldn't get anyone else to go with him. He was a sweet boy, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. Ginny needed someone she could have a real conversation with.

There had only been one time when she'd felt like she had someone who she could really talk to that way...but of course, she hadn't known the true power...and he hadn't really understood her after all, had he? He was just a memory...

* * * * *

When no one was looking, Percy and Penelope snuck upstairs, away from the tumult of the happy guests. "Are they ever going to go home?" Asked Percy, watching as Fred and George slipped a canary crème into their grandfather's soup.

Penny punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You should be grateful for all this," she admonished, giving him a wry look. "They mean well, anyway."

Percy sighed, and smiled. "Yes, I suppose. But really, do they expect this to help me? I have to go to my first day of work tomorrow, and it's a good thing I didn't have anything to drink, or I'd be hung over. As it is I'll have no energy, and making a good impression is so important, and-!"

Penny kissed him, cutting him off. "Shut up," she suggested, dragging him upstairs. "That's tomorrow, this is today, live for the moment for once." Pulling him into his room, she shut the door and sat him in a chair, touching her lips to his forehead. "I'm really proud of you, Perce," she said quietly, grinning. "I always knew you could do it."

* * * * *

A loud crash boomed through the house, and Ginny sat up straight in bed, staring around the room. Ignoring the pain in her head, she crawled out of bed, crossed the room, and opened the door, looking up and down the hall, but saw nothing unusual. The talking downstairs continued, and for a moment Ginny thought perhaps Bill had broken another table. But it had been much louder than that...

Walking down the hall to Percy's room, Ginny knocked on the door. There was no answer. "Percy? Perce, are you there? Lemme in, its Ginny...come on, Perce..." She felt a chill creep down her spine, and she shivered, biting her lip and opening the door very slightly, to make sure she wasn't intruding on anything she didn't want to see. Seeing no one, she opened the door wider, walked in, and gasped.

The far window was broken, pieces of glass scattered all over the windowsill and the floor. Careful not to step on any of them, she made her way over the hole in the wall where it had been, and noticed something lying on the ground, glittering entirely unlike the glass lying all around it. Bending to pick it up, she found herself holding Penny's silver necklace, the one Percy had given her for her birthday.

* * * * *

The noisy little downtown café was quite a change for Draco Malfoy, sitting at a table by the enchanted fountain, which broke into song every ten or so minutes. It was so unlike his home, without the unbreakable silence, without the dark hangings and dark atmosphere and dark...well, dark everything. He found himself coming here often lately, to escape his father's air of constant driving purpose. Everything moved so quickly there, step after step like an equation that had to be completed by a certain date. Here, it was all so peaceful, even though it was loud and gaudy. It was the kind of peaceful that provided one with a place to think, to ease away from the tension of everyday life, the tension Draco experienced every day. He loved this place, because it gave him space to breathe.

The little bells on the door tinkled to announce the arrival of a new customer, and the owner rushed over to greet them, as he greeted everyone. He always greeted everyone...even Draco, which Draco himself found surprising. Everywhere he went, people shrank away from him, or, rather, from his name, that of Malfoy. He was a celebrity too, in a way, he thought bitterly, purposelessly swishing his water around in his glass. He was the one they all feared, the one they all hated but refused to show. The owner here didn't know him, didn't know his father. And here, he could be someone his father never imagined him to be, Draco Malfoy...Draco Malfoy, the normal 17-year-old boy. Not a death eater's son, not a symbol of dark wizards, but a boy, just trying to get along like the rest of the world.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the newcomer approach his table, or lay a hand gently on the back of his chair.

"Monsieur Malfoy...eet 'as been a long time, no?"

Draco whirled around, startled, and saw a tall figure, vaguely familiar, though he couldn't really match her face with a name. Long golden hair fell around her face, the face that was set with perfect red lips, baby blue eyes, and a wryly-amused expression, placid on the beautiful features.

"Who...?" He shook himself inwardly, becoming composed. "What do you want?" It came out with a sneer, haughty and hateful, the way his father always wanted him to be, had always trained him to be. No, he thought, angry with himself, this isn't who I am. "Who are you?" He tried again, calmer, milder.

The lips parted into a smile, the eyebrows arched. "You do not remember me? Ah am insulted, Monsieur Malfoy. Try to remember."

Perplexed and slightly annoyed, Draco stared at her for a long time. Then, slowly something bubbled up from the back of his mind, something concerning his fourth year at Hogwarts...and Harry Potter.

"You're...that French girl...Fleur Delacour..."

The smile widened. "Oui, zat ah am. Zat ah am."

Draco nodded, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. What did she want here? Instead, he asked, "What are you doing back in the country?"

"Ah." Uninvited, Fleur took the seat opposite Draco, and leaned both elbows on the table. "When ah graduated from Beauxbatons, ah took a job 'ere, working for Madam Malkin, and 'er robe shop." She chuckled musically, raising her eyes. "Zese British robes...zey are so...old fashioned. In France, we 'ave many other nice styles."

Drumming his fingers on the table, Draco stared blankly at her. Fleur nodded, continued to smile. "You must be wondering why ah am 'ere to speak to you."

"Yes," Draco said, letting out a long breath. "Yes, that would be a fair statement."

"Very well," Fleur replied, looking him directly in the eye. She held his eyes for a long time, giving Draco the chilling sense that she could see straight into his soul. Fidgeting with his water glass, he stared at the table, at the ground, at the ceiling, at anything but her. After a long time, she shrugged.

* * * * *

When Draco trudged up to the front door of Malfoy Manor several hours later, the house-elf, Tilly, let him in. "Do you know where my father is?" He asked her.

"Mr. Malfoy, is in the study, Mr. Malfoy, sir," squeaked the elf. "I is seeing him there only a few minutes ago."

"Thanks," muttered Draco, stepping around the elf and her washcloth, becoming Draco, Lucius Malfoy's son again. "Father?" He called out, opening the door to the study and peering inside.

"Yes, Draco, come in. There's something we have to discuss." Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his chair, illuminated by the dim light his wand was projecting, hovering one or two feet above his head. "Well, come in," he repeated, when Draco hesitated in the doorway.

Once Draco was inside, Lucius closed the door, and turned to face his son. A slow smile spread across his face, but, Draco noticed, it did not reach his eyes. "Well, son," he said, but it was really more of a whisper, "You're almost a man. Your last year at that abominable school starts tomorrow...and it's time for you to start thinking about your future."

Oh no, Draco thought, oh no. He'd dreaded this discussion since the day on the year before, the day he realized that he wasn't content to be Lucius Malfoy's spawn, that he wanted to be his own person, and lead his own life. He knew what was going to be asked of him, and he knew that he would have to respond favorably towards it, though it was the last thing in the world, now, that he wanted.

"You could become," Lucius continued, unaware of Draco's misgivings, "anything, anything at all that you could possibly want to be." You mean, thought Draco, anything you want me to be. "You could be powerful, my son. More powerful than anyone else, the most powerful wizard in the world...with the help of the training you have received from me...and the training you will receive, again from me, and others also. Others, wondered Draco, what others?

"Everything you desire, you could have. Everything you wished, you could do. Does this not sound good to one as educated as you?" Draco wanted to yell, to say that he wanted no part of his father's dealings with the deepest of dark arts. Ever since Voldemort had been defeated, Lucius had seemed to fancy his son as the powerful Dark Lord's successor. But Draco wanted none of it, none at all. "Well?" Lucius was waiting.

"I...would be honored," Draco heard himself saying, "To accept such training." No, no this was all wrong! But he couldn't bring himself to utter the words, not to his father, the one man he feared above any other. Why should I fear my father, he wondered? "Good," Lucius replied, again with that smile that did not reach his eyes. "Very good. Then, you will be ready to accept what I am about to tell you." There's more, thought Draco, oh gods.

"Today, I had a visitor," and now Lucius's voice was even quieter than before. "A visitor who I never expected to see again, nostalgic of my childhood, and my days at Hogwarts." Another death eater, perhaps? "Today...Tom Riddle came to see me." Lucius's face was shining.

"Tom Riddle?" Draco was confused again. "But...I don't understand...who..?"

"Stupid boy! Tom Riddle...a boy I went to school with, a boy who did great and terrible things..." Lucius trailed off, and Draco gasped.

"T-tom Riddle...Tom...Vold...Volde..."

"Say it," urged his father, heat in his voice, "Say the name...for only when you say the name can you truly become part of it, part of us..."

"Voldemort..." And Draco knew that, two years before, this would have been the best news in the world to him and all his family. But now, it only scared him out of his mind. Voldemort had returned. And he wanted the Malfoys as his servants.