You Live, You Fail, You Die

Mars shines bright tonight

Draco kicked his bedpost and swore.

He knew it was childish, but he couldn't stop himself. The scene with McKinley kept playing over and over in his mind and he realized that only Ginny's intervention had prevented him from doing something very stupid.

The fact that she'd seen him being weak wasn't helping.

You are a Malfoy, act like one! He snorted. Oh, Draco, who are you kidding? You're nothing, a useless nothing! You can't even convince yourself!

He kicked his bedpost as hard as he could, and the four-poster bed swayed slightly. The pain in his foot was welcome as it distracted him from the other pain, deep inside his body.

Voldemort was right. I just wish he had killed me when he had had the chance.

***

To find some form of distraction, and because he didn't know what else to do, he went to the library. The large room was empty and deadly silent. Not even Madam Pince was around. Thanks to the intervention of Professor Snape, he was free to use the library whenever he pleased - even at night.

No nosy students, no curious Madam Pince - but even so, what good did it do?

He felt like the only human being left on earth, alone in the dark, creepy library.

Draco tried to focus on the books he had not yet read. Minutes later, he had a strong sense of someone watching him, and raised his head slowly.

A pair of green eyes was staring in his direction. The owner of the eyes was sitting on one of the tables, staring thoughtfully in the ex-Slytherin's direction.

"Potter. Shouldn't you be off doing something heroic? Rather than just sitting there watching me." He had meant to be sarcastic, but even in to his own ears it sounded tired and barely annoyed.

"Malfoy." Harry inclined his head briefly, but didn't stop regarding Draco carefully. "I heard you are the substitute Potions teacher?"

"Any reason why I shouldn't be?"

Harry just shook his head.

"Don't you think," he said slowly, as if weighing each word carefully, "it's time for us to make a truce, Malfoy? We are on the same side ... at least, we were, just recently."

"Save it, Potty." Draco shut his book with a bang. "Weasel and Mudblood may bow in front of you and chant heroic hymns, but don't try that shit with me. What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"It's a free country." Harry shrugged.

"Do me a favour and go enjoy your freedom elsewhere. I have to work, and you are polluting the air in here."

Harry rose and sighed mock dramatically.

"You will never change, Malfoy."

"I'm not interested in changing. Get lost."

Harry stayed where he was.

"You look like a ghost," he said in such a calm voice that Draco wanted to hex him on the spot. "People are talking about you, even Ron and I have heard some rumours. And Ginny told us ...."

Draco jumped up.

"Why is everybody so interested in my personal affairs?" he hissed. "What part of 'get lost' didn't you understand, Potter? Leave me the fuck alone!!"

His voice was full of hate and anger, and his knuckles, gripping his wand, were white.

Harry opened his mouth to shout something in response, but at that moment, the curse in Draco's bloodstream decided to flex its muscles, and shot like lightning through his bones.

Draco gave out a strangled cry and fell to his knees. The impact made him bite his tongue and he spat some blood onto the floor. The world was beginning to fade around him.

Struggling on the brink of unconsciousness, he tried to get some air into his lungs. Potter was forgotten, the fear of giving away his secret ... Merlin, just enough air to breathe ...

From very far away he could hear someone asking him if he was okay. A hand was shaking his shoulder.

The next moment, he could see clearly again.

"Get your hands off me!" He gave Harry a violent push.

"You are nuts!" Harry was losing his patience. "I don't give a fucking damn what you are doing with your life, Malfoy! But as long as you stay at Hogwarts, you are a danger to everybody around you, whatever it is Voldemort has done to you! Heaven knows what Dumbledore's motives are for hiring you, of all people!"

Harry wiped his hands on his robes as if he had touched something filthy, and threw Draco a disgusted look. Without another word, he stormed out of the library.

***

The next morning, Draco saw Potter and Weasley at the Gryffindor table. Ginny was sitting between them, and they seemed to be having a great time.

Draco, on the other hand, felt like he had been trampled on by a horde of hippogriffs. All of his muscles were cramped up and he felt ready to faint at any minute. Maybe he should go to the hospital wing, but what would he tell Madam Pomfrey?

"What are they doing here?" he asked Professor Sinistra quietly, nodding discreetly towards the Gryffindor table.

"Mr Potter and Mr Weasley? As far as I know, they had an appointment with Professor Dumbledore, and this afternoon the members of the Order of the Phoenix are having a meeting."

"Lovely." This information hit a sore spot, but he tried to hide that from Sinistra. So he had never been an official member of the Order, but he had played a part in the damn war, so why did everybody shut him out?

He pushed away his plate angrily. At that moment, Ron Weasley threw a mocking glance in his direction. Harry turned to see what his friend was looking at and nudged him gently in the ribs, saying something. Weasley was sneering now.

I'll KILL him if he tells the Weasel about what happened yesterday!

His friendly thoughts were interrupted by owls bringing the day's mail. His own eagle owl, Desdemona, landed near his plate and ruffled her feathers in an annoyed manner. Draco took the small parchment tied to her leg and regarded her carefully as she took off. He had neglected her during the last few weeks, and Des was obviously angry with him, as she departed as soon as he'd taken his piece of parchment.

Draco looked suspiciously at the letter.

Dear Mr Malfoy,

Following the tragic and regrettable death of your respected father - Draco snorted at that - I have been ordered to present you with his last will.

Mrs Narcissa Malfoy has insisted on sending you the documents by owl since she isn't willing to contact you in person.

The inheritance reads as follows: The family fortune, amounting to 52 million galleons, will be divided between Mrs Narcissa Malfoy and Mr Draco Malfoy equally. Malfoy Manor, including furnishings and land, goes to Narcissa Malfoy while Draco Malfoy will inherit Crestville House and the London city apartment.

The money and the deeds of ownership have been transferred to your vault at Gringott's. Please sign the enclosed documents...

Draco was ready to rip the paper to shreds, his teeth clenched so tightly they were grinding against each other. It was more or less what he had anticipated, but he had still hoped that his mother would finally come to her senses. But he had been wrong again.

"Bad news?" Trelawney asked in a saccharine voice.

It had become apparent shortly after his arrival in August that the two of them couldn't stand each other one bit. It was no secret that the Divination teacher had protested fiercely when Draco was chosen by Dumbledore.

Draco stared coldly in her direction, but didn't bother to say anything. Instead, he rose and left the Great Hall.

***

"Do you know about the meeting?"

Snape gave Draco a cool look.

"I do. I will be informed about the results."

Draco tried to suppress his anger.

"Why isn't anybody telling me anything? I have the same right to be there as they do!"

"You would, but in this special case, you don't. The meeting is about you."

"What?!"

"Most of the members of the Order are convinced that the Dark Lord did something to you. Your appearance and your behaviour over the last few weeks support that theory. They think you are a potential danger."

"I am what!? I don't get it!" Draco was yelling now. "I'm not harming anybody, I even tried ... hell, why am I actually trying to do? Why won't people just leave me the fuck alone?"

He thumped the bedside table menacingly.

"Are you done?" Snape asked him icily. "Are you ready to act like an adult, rather than behaving like a child?"

Draco was shaking with rage, but lowered his balled fists.

"No, I'm not," he answered in a voice as cold as Snape's, before turning on his heels and storming out of the room.

Snape was left alone, gazing at the door Draco had disappeared through.

***

Draco was aware of the curious and puzzled looks he got as he ran towards the dungeons, but he didn't care at all. To hell with Hogwarts and Dumbledore, he had had enough. He would pack his things and get out of there.

Potential danger! Oh, please!

He threw some personal things into a small bag, slung it over his shoulder and left the castle. The house elves would pack the rest and send it on.

On his way out, he passed Potter and Weasley, but ignored them as best he could.

He made his way towards Hogsmeade because it was the best point to Disapparate. The London apartment had to do for now. Crestville House, as far as he knew, hadn't been lived in for ages, and he didn't want to be uncomfortable.

His path took him past the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Suddenly, a deep voice called out to him, and he flinched. Visions from his first year came crashing through his mind: the dead unicorn, Voldemort...hastily, he pulled out his wand.

"Young Malfoy, isn't it?" the voice asked. It sounded amused.

"Who's asking?" he hissed, retreating slowly.

A centaur came walking out of the coppice. He had a palomino body, and there was something vaguely familiar about his whole appearance.

"Firenze," the centaur reminded him. "We met once."

Now Draco remembered it all.

"Oh, right. You rescued our hero," he spat.

Firenze tapped his hoof on the ground.

"May I ask you a personal question, Draco Malfoy?"

"If I don't have to answer it."

The centaur didn't seem to hear this.

"Why are you running away?"

"How do ... I'm not running away! What gave you that idea?"

"You try to fight fire with fire, Draco Malfoy. You are trying to pinpoint a problem. Instead, you should look for a solution."

"I don't see your point."

"Think it over." Firenze turned and trotted back toward the forest. "You have to extinguish the flames, young Malfoy. Remember that."

Draco was alone again, staring towards the place where the centaur had disappeared.

"The bloke is totally off his rocker."

Flames

Extinguish the flames, young Malfoy. Remember that.

Draco was still staring at the spot where Firenze had disappeared. But his brain was working hard.

What did Firenze know? He had to know something, that much was obvious, but how much, and, finally, where from? Centaurs were very talented diviners - Draco was more inclined to believe them than Trelawney, that much was for sure - but was that all?

Draco's decision to leave Hogwarts in an instant was fading away at those thoughts. There might be a solution for his problems, but if he really sat in his apartment in London, it would be more difficult to reach it. But he clenched his teeth at the thought of just backing away and returning as if nothing had happened.

Don't be stupid Malfoy! Do you want to get rid of the hex?! Then overcome your snobbishness and go back!!!

Furiously, he kicked a stone out of his way and retreated to Hogwarts.

***

Due to a lifetime of practice, he managed to keep his face emotionless as he passed a small group of members of the Order of the Phoenix on his way to the library. Potter and Weasley were amongst them, as suspected, and also Hermione Granger, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Draco ignored them all and continued on his way. He was in a hurry to get back to the library to think about Firenze's words.

"Would you give me the opportunity to speak with you in private, Mr Malfoy?" Lupin asked unexpectedly.

Draco had a short, menacing answer on his tongue, but instead, he only nodded curtly.

"Sure," he answered coolly. "I was on my way to the library. If you care to join me?"

"Remus ...." Sirius Black started, but after the warning glance the werewolf shot him, he shut up.

The Slytherin motioned for his former DADA teacher to go first, and entered the library after him. With one sweeping look, he noticed that there weren't many pupils to watch them. Fine by him.

Lupin was regarding him with the same look he remembered from Dumbledore, Snape and even Potter.

"Stop staring at me!" he snapped, knowing he wasn't very polite, but he didn't give a damn.

Lupin kept his friendly smile anyway.

"I don't want to question you again, Mr Malfoy. I heard the others did quite enough of that."

"What do you want from me then?"

Lupin answered with a topic that completely took him by surprise

"You are the owner of Crestville House now, am I correct?"

"Um - right." Draco was taken aback. "How did you know?"

"Well, I wanted to buy the place, and your mother told me you had inherited it instead of her. Lucius Malfoy never was interested in selling it - are you?"

"Why are you interested? It's been unused for- oh, I don't know, centuries! - and it's kind of small and shabby!"

"My reasons are private, Mr Malfoy. Are you interested in making a deal?"

Draco's Slytherin mind started to work hard. Private? Or other things he didn't know yet?

"I am not sure," he said slowly. "I wanted to check it out myself first." That was a lie, but Lupin's interest made him way too curious to give the place away without taking a look first.

Lupin wasn't showing any signs of disappointment.

"Just send me an owl if you decide what to do. I don't want to disturb you any longer."

He nodded politely, then turned and was about to leave the library.

"Professor Lupin?" This came out of Draco's mouth before he realized he was saying anything.

The werewolf turned around, and Draco mentally kicked himself.

"I --- uh --- Why should somebody concentrate on a solution, instead of the problem itself?"

You're nuts! You're totally nuts!

If Lupin was surprised by the question, he hid it very well.

"It's better to concentrate on the consequences a problem is causing when you are not able to eliminate it the other way round. Do you ask that on purpose?"

"No. Yes. Hell, damned if I know."

Lupin's gaze was piercing now.

"If I am able to help you, please let me know. I am sure you know why the Order met today?"

Draco growled something under his breath. Why the sodding hell was he asking Lupin, of all people? He had to be more desperate than even he knew himself.

Lupin waited for an answer, but as none came, he just shrugged and left the library.

Consequences. Pinpoint a problem. Don't fight fire with fire ... Merlin, I will go crazy any minute now!

Draco was very close to hitting his forehead on the desk in front of him.

Malfoy, get a grip. Remember something called logic. Okay, first, the curse is the problem. Second, the pain is the consequence. Whoa, wait a minute. It's not. FIRE is the consequence. How do you fight fire? You extinguish it. Firenze's words. Where is my Latin when I need it? Extinguere. You have to search for extinguere, you complete idiot!!

This time, he DID bash his head on the table. The few students in the library and Madam Pince were taken aback, but he didn't care. Draco pushed himself to work again, this time not searching for the hex but instead, for his Latin solution.

Hours later, just as he was close to doubting his Theory, he found it, in one of the older books. The Infinitus Flamma was just barely mentioned, no wonder he hadn't found it at first. It was no permanent solution, but ...

It was a recipe for a potion. According to the book, it was very complicated, but not impossible. The problem was, the pain wouldn't just go away. It would be concentrated on a certain moment. That is, it would hit him every third or fourth month. But wasn't that better than to endure it all the time?

Trouble in Slytherin

The next few weeks, Draco remained occupied with what he hoped would be the solution to his problem. The making of the potion was far more complicated than he had thought. But, on the other hand, he had no other hope. Some of the ingredients weren't easily gotten, not in Diagon Alley, or it's dark pendant, Knockturn Alley. He wasn't able to just ask Snape, now was he?

His connections to the Malfoy family were gone forever, knowing his father was a Death Eater, but there were still some sources he could use. Money was working wonders, sometimes, it just lasted a while.

The other thing he had to deal with was Crestville House. He just wasn't able to believe that Lupin's interest was just a "family affair".

You are on your way to developing a persecution complex. There's nothing extraordinary with that place! Okay, except for some trivia.

Crestville was way older than Malfoy Manor, constructed during the sixteenth century. There was nothing about the original constructor. The Malfoy family had become the owners much later, because of some deal or some kind of blackmail, it wasn't clarified. Why his ancestors were so fascinated by this place, that was a new mystery. It had been inhabited just sporadically.

Draco, like everyone else, knew the stories about Muggles who had moved into strange old houses and experienced true horrors, but that only made him snort. These were Muggles, correct? One of the oldest wizarding families wouldn't be frantic about some lousy ghosts, right? There had to be another reason. Lucius' refusal to sell the place, while it was apparently not worth anything and remained unused, made him more suspicious.

Draco shut the information he had gotten from his source with a bang. It was time to focus on the potion, Crestville House would have to wait.

Absorbed in his thoughts, he ran into somebody on his way to the dungeons.

"Watch it!" he snapped.

It was - why on earth is it always HER? - Ginny Weasley. But instead of the normal, sometimes reluctant answers he was used to, she only glared back.

"Probably you should watch it, Malfoy. Maybe by opening your eyes while walking?" she hissed and pushed him violently out of the way.

Draco stared after her, dumbfounded. This was so unusual for her. Then something registered in his eyes. The backside of her cloak was dirty, and one sleeve was torn out.

"Gi - Miss Weasley?"

"What do you want from me?" she almost yelled, as she turned around. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, which she had bravely tried to suppress.

Gryffindor. So typical.

But he saw something more, and his gaze became dangerous. The left side of her throat, almost covered with her clothing, bared a dark red mark, which was obviously a strangulation mark.

"What happened?" he demanded sharply.

"Nothing," spat Ginny. "Nothing you have to care about!"

With that sentence, she turned and stormed away.

Draco turned too, and grimly made his way to the Slytherin common room. He had quite a good idea who the attacker was.

Angus McKinley stood in the middle of the room and was basking in the attention he had.

"You should have seen that," he said mockingly. "That silly cow had no chance against the Imperio. Gryffindors could do to strengthen their defence. It was a laughable sight when she almost strangled herself!"

The others laughed maliciously.

One of the Slytherins, a fourth year, accidentally glanced at the door, and recognised Draco, standing there with his arms crossed and a murderous look on his face. She sent McKinley a warning glance, but he didn't pay any attention.

"This should be a warning for her to behave herself better," he said, contented. "Next time, she won't get away this easily."

Now more of the Slytherins had noticed Draco. Not all of them were thrilled about McKinleys's actions, and they were looking forward to the coming confrontation.

Anger boiled in Draco, but he gritted his teeth and sauntered coolly into the room.

"You really decided to take my advice to accompany your father in Azkaban?" he mused loudly.

McKinley was taken aback, but he masked his face with a malicious smile.

"And what do you mean with that? Sir?" he asked calmly, the Sir obviously mocking.

"As far as I know," Draco answered icily, "The Imperius curse is a forbidden one."

"Imperius?" McKinley pulled an innocent face. "I would never do that."

"Really. I heard every word."

"And you can prove that how?"

Draco glanced around. Most of the Slytherins made uninvolved faces, and the few people who didn't agreed with McKinley's actions watched the floor carefully.

Draco knew Slytherin's rules all too well - don't sell out somebody from your own House.

"Come with me. Now!"

"You don't have ANY proof at all, Malfoy!"

McKinley was standing in Snape's former office, while Draco sat behind the desk.

"And what if I had a deposition?" Draco answered slowly, focusing on each word. "My word and Ginevra Weasley's? It would be enough to insist the appliance of Verita." He was bluffing, Ginny wouldn't say a word, he was sure.

McKinley glared hatefully in his direction, but he fell for it.

"What do you want from me?"

"A few things. First, some respect wouldn't be too bad. Second, no further attacks on Miss Weasley. Third - don't tell anybody about this conversation."

"Do I have a choice?" McKinley hissed. "Can I leave now?"

"Just one thing more, Angus. If I ever hear something like this again, fear of being expelled will be the last thing on your mind. I will make you regret it, and you know what I am capable of. Now get lost."

The door slammed shut after McKinley, and the potion bottles were rattled under the force.

Draco shut his eyes and tried to relax. The confrontation had been foreseeable, but that didn't mean he was enjoyed it. Deep inside, he felt like a traitor, after all, he hadn't been reacting any better than McKinley some months ago.

He heard a loud knock on the door and flinched.

"In!" he shouted angrily.

It was McGonagall, and her face was fiery red.

Oh, what else?!

"Professor McGonagall. Is there something I can do for you?"

Her eyes flashed furious lightning in his direction.

"You own me an explanation. Ginevra Weasley was attacked this afternoon, and I have the strong suspicion it was a member of your House, Mr Malfoy!"

"I took care of it ," he said coolly. "It won't happen again, you can be sure."

McGonagall tried to calm down, but she hadn't finished.

"Professor Snape would never had tolerated this kind of behaviour ...."

"I am not Snape!" Draco lost his control. "Excuse me, Professor, but it was Dumbledore who appointed me for this job. Ask him why! And I don't think Snape would have taken care of what happened with Ginny Weasley! You think it's easy for me to speak against my own House? I am sick of all this shit, and I would gladly leave, better sooner than later!"

In his fury, he swept down a bottle, which was standing in front of his desk. The splinters flew everywhere.

McGonagall had become very quiet during his tirade, and was looking intently at him.

Draco's own face was red, and he was staring at McGonagall challengingly.

"Miss Weasley hasn't said a word. I have only just seen her," she answered calmly. "She is now at the hospital wing, she told Poppy something about an accident. Can I be sure that something like that won't happen again?"

"If it's by me, you can. Otherwise, there will be expulsions. I swear."

McGonagall nodded, and turned to go. But she stopped at the door.

"You are not Severus, that's right. But believe me, Draco, you aren't so bad yourself as a teacher."

She disappeared, and Draco only shook his head. What a hell of a day!