Old Moon Fades

Chapter Six: Change What's Coming

Contrary to popular opinion, Draco Malfoy was not on his way to Azkaban Prison. Not yet anyway. But, he was on his way to the Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Looking in front of him, he could tell that Fudge was nervous. The Minister of Magic kept trying to smooth the non-existent wrinkles in his pin-striped suit and Malfoy could hear him muttering under his breath as if attempting to convince himself that he was following the proper course of action. No doubt he was merely thinking of how this situation would sway public opinion as to his performance as the Minister. Everyone knew that since the return of You-Know-Who, Fudge had been walking a thin line with the public, a very thin line indeed. With a wave of his hand a jerk of his chin, he led them off through the Atrium on the eighth level and down the lifts to the second.

Malfoy was calm and collected, outwardly unfettered as the group made their way from the lifts and then through the hallways of the Ministry. People froze in place and others whispered to each other behind their hands as the Minister led the assembled members of the Law Enforcement Squad and a magically restrained Malfoy through the busy corridors. Apparently the news had spread and witnessing the spectacle only seemed to add fire to the flames of gossip that were now raging in Wizarding London. Though his father had been a favorite person of the press and the Malfoy name was renowned as one of the oldest and most notable in Britain, young Draco Malfoy was relatively untried when it came to reporters. This was the first time he had been the center of any scandal or gossip, and he was bloody sure going to make the most of it and possibly sway some of the public opinion in his own direction. He loved the attention.

People stopped and pointed, one lady even dropped her bag with the astonishment. Her voice was nasal and croaked out, "Is that the young Malfoy boy who was just arrested?" And so, he nodded to the congregating witches and wizards, rattling his invisible chains, with the corners of his mouth lifting in silent greeting as he passed them in the hallway. They seemed to not know what to make of this. Their confusion evident on their faces, their mouths hanging agape as if poised to ask, "Why is he smiling if he's just been arrested?" They turned to each other barely containing their whispers now, their voices edging higher and higher.

The din of the hallway was loud. That was precisely the reaction that Malfoy wanted. Doubt began creeping into the minds of the public. Soon they would rush off to tell their friends that they had just seen Draco Malfoy being hauled away by the Minister of Magic of all people, and to top it all off, he had SMILED at them, well smirked anyway.

Within minutes they had arrived at the Department for Magical Law Enforcement offices. Light from the windows shone brightly and Malfoy recognized immediately that they were charmed to give the appearance of the outside world. False-sunlight filtered through and seemed almost garish compared to dank surroundings. He was lead through the large room filled with cubicles, and the few Aurors that actually had office-duty that day stood up to catch a glimpse of him as he walked by. He was taken through a much smaller room. Arthur Weasley poked his bright red head out of an adjacent office and started in surprise, his eyes questioning why Malfoy wasn't already in Azkaban. Malfoy sneered in greeting. Weasley raised his chin in defiance of the high-handed manner that had become a designated Malfoy characteristic, and watched as they turned the corner. Before Malfoy realized what they were doing, they had filed into a tiny broom cupboard. He bumped into the Minister's back and almost fell.

"What is going on?" Malfoy's voice was highly annoyed and his patience was running thin of this parade through the Ministry.

"We are on our way to my office, young Mr. Malfoy," came the clipped reply from the Minister.

"A broom cupboard? I thought my family had donated more than enough money to warrant a proper office for the Minister of Magic. If my father knew that..." Malfoy cut himself off at the reminder of the reason why he was actually standing in the broom cupboard.

His remark however went ignored and the remaining law enforcement squad officers filed into the already cramped room. The Minister was facing away from the door and began muttering under his breath. He hastily began shuffling the brooms around and rearranging them again in a different order. Finally satisfied he reached into his pocket and produced his wand. Touching it to an utterly unremarkable spot on the wall between two brooms the Minister bellowed, "Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic."

As if acknowledging their presence, the wall opened revealing an ornately carved wooden staircase and balustrade. Malfoy followed the Minister down the steps and through another set of doors. A middle-aged woman sat behind a large desk and looked up at them smiling as they walked into the room. Malfoy was then ushered into another room, apparently the Minister's own offices.

Fudge walked around a bulky desk that sat in the middle of the room and sat down in the comfy looking leather chair behind it. A quick glance around the room showed portraits of the previous Ministers and a few hunting scenes. The painting closest to him revealed a fox trying its best to outrun several wizards on horseback chasing after it, magical bows raised and arrows notched. He wondered briefly if the fox had to outrun the wizards indefinitely or if the fox ever once had the chance to rest.

He studied the painting absently while the woman, presumably the Minister's secretary, whispered conspiratorially with her boss. She nodded her head at one of the Minister's questions and a few seconds later stood up abruptly and looked right at Malfoy shock and interest fighting a battle on her face. He smirked approachably in response. The Minister asked her another question and she reluctantly answered with a shake of her head. Her earrings jingled with the motion. Fudge nodded his head and waved her off.

She gathered several pieces of loose parchment off of the desk and hugged them to her chest and hurried out of the room, closing the door as she left. The law enforcement officers stood casually by the door, arms crossed and wands ready. Fudge sat at his desk rifling through bits of parchment. He ripped the bowler hat from his head and tossed it down on a corner of the table. He made no move to acknowledge Malfoy's presence; in fact he seemed to be purposefully putting him off.

Malfoy cleared his throat. The Minister looked up at him then. Malfoy rattled the invisible bindings on his hands. "These are becoming exceedingly uncomfortable. I would like to have them removed. Now."

If the Minister found his tone to be disrespectful, he didn't say anything about it. He nodded his head toward the closest officer, and instantly the weight of the bindings was lifted. Malfoy unconsciously began rubbing his bruised wrists. Without being offered, he strode to one of the plush chairs in front of Fudge's desk and sat down. He was walking an increasingly thin line and he knew it, but wasn't about to back down. He would do his best performance of the condescending heir and make the Minister aware of his own rightful place. Nobody had to know the truth; nobody had to know that he really had no place. Except that bloody Granger. He pushed the thought away and all the feelings that accompanied it. He would think about all that later when he was back home at Malfoy Manor. But, for now he resigned himself to deal with this slight problem of his arrest and the subsequent murder of his father.

Malfoy casually laid a hand across the arm of the chair and leaned back, adopting the pose of a proper pure-blood heir unfazed by the title and privilege of the Minister. He cleared his throat and waited for the Minister to reach a similar level of calm. Indeed, Fudge seemed to be fighting a losing battle as to what he actually needed to do now that he had Malfoy in his office. After a moment of re-sorting the growing stack of parchment towering on his desk, Fudge finally turned his attention to Malfoy.

"So, Mr. Malfoy... Would you like to explain to me what exactly went on this morning?"

His voice was strong but his hands betrayed him. They were wringing. Fudge was still nervous. Malfoy noted this and decided to play off of it. He had no intention of getting sentenced to Azkaban. With enough money thrown in his face Fudge would acquiesce to any of Malfoy's demands. He'd have to come up with some way to get Granger to keep quiet about it but he'd think about that later. Right now he had to convince the Minister.

He was poised to make an offer in order for the whole ordeal to be quietly covered up when the door opened. The secretary was yelling, "You can't go in there without the Minister's approval!"

Dumbledore stormed into the office, his white beard trailing behind him. The Minister stood up hastily and chuckled nervously. "Dumbledore... I wasn't expecting you."

"Indeed you were not," came the curt reply.

Dumbledore was angry, that much was blatantly obvious, though why he was so angry, Malfoy couldn't even begin to conceive of. He sat back and studied the two wizards carefully. Dumbledore moved to sit in the other chair without waiting for the Minister's permission. After adjusting his long purple robes and smoothing his beard, Dumbledore looked across to Fudge. Fudge had an incredibly guilty look on his portly face. It seemed he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

When Fudge opened his mouth to speak the old Headmaster silenced him. "I believe you acted rather hastily this morning, Cornelius."

Having had his transgressions pointed out so palpably only served to escalate the Minister's nerves. Before he could even attempt to defend his actions Dumbledore interjected.

"Mr. Malfoy will be given a proper hearing in front of the entire assembled Wizengamot, of that I am certain. This situation will not be merely swept under the rug, so to say. If dark forces are at work they will be weeded out and dealt with accordingly, Minister."

The last word was enunciated so clearly that Malfoy's curiosity was immediately stirred. Could the Minister be in league with the Dark Lord? No, certainly not was Malfoy's initial response. For one, he was too intelligent to be caught. For another, he was too reliant on public opinion to ever let certain allegiances ever escalate to that level. Fudge was a man of ambition. He had accepted Lucius Malfoy's donations and subsequent badgering on certain issues because alliances with particular families only served to further his own career. So, what was going on? It appeared that Malfoy wasn't going to get his answer today however. But, he was a patient man. He could wait it out... for awhile at least.

The Minister reluctantly agreed to Dumbledore's demands. It wasn't as if he had any choice really, not now that he had been made a fool for the whole situation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Fudge was putting on a highly offended face but his true feelings betrayed him however when his elbow slipped and the massive tower of parchment flew off his desk and scattered across the floor. Dumbledore stood slowly and turned to Malfoy for the first time since his arrival. He gestured one arm toward the door.

Malfoy stood and didn't give the Minister a backward glance. He followed Dumbledore out of the office. They left a different way than he had originally come in. They made their way around the staircase toward the back corner of the room. Malfoy glanced back at the secretary before going through the door Dumbledore held open for him. The Minister's door was still standing open and the secretary was picking up the loose paper from the floor. The Minister sat with his head in his hands. Turning from the scene, Malfoy followed Dumbledore through the door.

They entered the Headmaster's offices at Hogwarts. Malfoy started in surprise and turned to Dumbledore questioningly. The old Headmaster simply smiled at him and gestured to a seat in front of his desk. Malfoy sat.

"Having a door that leads directly into the Minister's office has come in quite handy in the past. I hope you can keep this bit of knowledge a secret, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy nodded his head. Dumbledore was looking intently at him and Malfoy felt a growing sense of mental invasion. He shook his head to rid the feeling and stared back at the Headmaster. The next hour was spent meticulously going over the events of that morning at Malfoy Manor. It was frustrating talking in circles. He felt as though he had spent the last week explaining what had happened. Dumbledore simply sat there listening, occasionally interjecting with a question or two. Malfoy gave Dumbledore all the information he knew about dark magic objects that his father had kept around the house. He almost felt as if there was no point in keeping it a secret anymore. They would find out eventually with Aurors and Ministry officials going over every inch of the Manor with a fine toothed comb.

If Dumbledore was surprised about Malfoy's sudden change of heart he didn't let on. Malfoy knew that his best course of action know would be to cooperate. He might could throw money at the Minister and expect to get away with murder, but not so with Dumbledore. The thought that he would be shunned in Slytherin when school recommenced did cross his mind, but he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on his own survival. But, even though he had given up all the information about his father and the events of that morning, he couldn't bring himself to say that he truly wasn't the heir of Lucius Malfoy. He kept one secret that day. Finally after what seemed like an hour or two, Dumbledore sat back in his chair and signaled the end of the interrogation.

"So, what happens now?" Malfoy asked woodenly.

Dumbledore smiled hollowly and said, "I think it would be best for you to spend the remainder of summer holiday here at Hogwarts. Ministry officials will be at Malfoy Manor for quite some time trying to find evidence and build a case against you. Your mother has been relocated to your summer home in France. It seems she took the news rather well and has decided to spend the next few months away from the press."

Malfoy nodded. The real reason it was best for him to stay at Hogwarts hung unsaid in the air between them. He was a hunted man now, just like his father had said. The Dark Lord would know beyond a shadow of a doubt what had happened. He would know that one of his greatest followers had been slain, and by whom.

"I hope you don't mind, Mr. Malfoy, but I took the liberty of having your things sent here after word got out of what happened. You should find your dormitory arranged and waiting for you when you choose to retire."

Again Malfoy nodded. So, that was how it was going to be. He was now a prisoner inside Hogwarts.

"It might be a good idea to start preparing your defense for the hearing. I will keep you informed as to the current events surrounding the case, you can be sure." Dumbledore reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small card and handed it to Malfoy. "Here is a pass to the Restricted Section in the library, maybe you could start there."

"I think I will go and clean up a bit before I begin any major research, Professor. But, thanks." It wasn't just the library pass that Malfoy was thanking him for. In all actuality the Headmaster was going above the call of duty in assisting him in such a way. With all the enemies he had made in last day, he needed any ally he could find, and Malfoy was no longer above showing his appreciation. But, a veiled show of gratitude was about all he could manage.

Dumbledore showed him out and he made his way down to the dungeons. He was in desperate want of a shower. He could feel the grime from that morning and his muscles were stiff and tired. A shower sounded very appealing at the moment. He reached the doors to the dungeon and said the password. The doors didn't open. He said it again. Nothing. He went through the list of every possible password combination in his memory. Still the doors stood sealed.

A few minutes later when he informed the Headmaster of the incident, Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again they were glistening. "I was afraid of that."