Of Death Eaters and Dreams

Draco strode into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts, a scowl on his face. The black eye and bruised forehead from the night before were hardly visible, Lucius had used a heavy illusion charm to ensure that. Draco’s head was spinning, probably an after effect of his torture session the night before. He paused, steadying himself against the corridor wall. Bloody hell, why couldn’t I have just listened to Father in the first place? The thought of Lucius sent a surge of anger through Draco, momentarily strengthening him.

He stood, straightened his dark silk cloak, and walked down one of the many corridors to Dumbledore’s office. Draco gingerly rapped on the stone gargoyle’s head, and whispered in it’s ear, ‘Draco Malfoy to see Professor Dumbledore, please notify him.’

The gargoyle sprang to life, charging up the narrow stairway to Dumbledore’s office, knocking on the door, and nimbly leaping back down the stairs to resume its stony attire.

Draco leaned against the statue, waiting for Dumbledore to acknowledge his request. Soon the great doors to his office opened, and Professor Dumbledore came slowly down the stairs, his blue eyes opening wide in surprise.

‘Mr. Malfoy, what a surprise. Certainly we weren’t expecting . . . Well, this is a surprise. Come in, please, I believe we have some business to take care of.’ Dumbledore motioned Draco into his office, muttering bewilderedly to himself.

Draco walked into the headmaster’s office and promptly sat down in one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore’s expansive desk. His head was throbbing again, so Draco silently pulled a letter from Father out of his robes and handed it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore opened the letter and scanned the letter warily. It was written on expensive parchment, in Lucius Malfoy’s rakish, slanted script.

Professor Albus Dumbledore, It began, Please excuse Draco’s untimely absence from the first several days of his fifth year. We were suddenly called away, the day before Draco’s school year began, to a family funeral in Sweden. Narcissa’s mother has tragically passed, and our attendance to the funeral was necessary. Please overlook Draco’s missed assignments and classes, the strain of a family passing has been greatly apparent on him.

Sincerely, Lucius Malfoy

Dumbledore looked up from the letter, and focused his eyes on Draco. ‘I am terribly sorry about your Grandmother’s passing, Mr. Malfoy. It must be hard for you.’

Draco looked away from Dumbledore’s gaze. ‘Yes, Professor,’ he lied, ‘I miss her very much.’

Dumbledore smiled. ‘Losing family is always hard, Draco. I will inform Professor Snape of your arrival. Meanwhile, I do believe that it is lunch. Your friends Crabbe and Goyle will be happy to see you, I expect. Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy.’ Dumbledore stood, looking as if he had important matters to immediately attend.

Draco smiled, glad that Dumbledore had bought the excuse. ‘Thank you, Professor, for understanding. Good afternoon.’

Draco walked out of Dumbledore’s office, so lost in thought that he barely noticed where he was going. He rounded the last corner on his way to the Great hall, and banged head first into a young brunette carrying about twenty various textbooks. They were both knocked to the ground, texts scattering everywhere.

‘Oh, look at what you’ve done!’ The young brunette snapped crossly.

Malfoy flushed with embarrassment. His head throbbed. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, ‘let me help you.’

He began crawling around on his hands and knees, retrieving various books from the marble floor. Muggle Inventions For The 21st Century? Two-Hundred And One Uses For Armadillo Bile? Who reads this crap? Malfoy thought as he retrieved two books. Only know-it-alls like that Her –’

‘Ow!’ Draco had accidentally bumped into the girl, knocking one of the books she had picked up out of her arms and back onto the floor.

‘Sorry! Here –’ Draco cut off, staring at the girl. Realization spread over his face. He smirked. ‘Well, Granger, I should have known it was you, no one else reads this trash.’

Hermione stared at him. ‘Malfoy? But I thought –’

He smirked at her again. ‘What? That you wouldn’t be able to see my charming face for a whole year?’

Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘Shut up, Malfoy. I don’t find you charming. I just thought–’

Draco grinned, and handed her the last of her books. ‘Sure you don’t. And watch your feet, Granger, you’re becoming a little clumsy.’ Draco turned and resumed his course for the dining hall, smirking over his shoulder.

* * *

Hermione watched him go. What, no insults? Clumsy git, he should watch where he’s going. Hermione brushed a ringlet of chestnut hair off her face. Draco Malfoy was an egotistical, self- centered prig, but for some reason, Hermione was glad he was back at Hogwarts.

* * *

After lunch, Draco made his way down to the dungeons, where the Slytherin House was. Draco walked into the fifth-year dormitory, and was startled as a smooth voice began to speak.

‘Draco. How was your meeting with the Headmaster? Everything went well, I presume?’

Draco faltered for a moment, startled by the fact that Lucius was sitting in a large green armchair by his bed. ‘Father, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.’ Draco cleared his throat, his calm, sophisticated manner falling back into place. ‘Dumbledore accepted the letter. I’ll begin classes tomorrow.’

Lucius contemplated his son’s words before answering. ‘Keep up a sound image, Draco. No one can suspect anything. Do you understand me?

Draco looked down at his feet, anger towards his father filling him. ‘I understand, Father. Don’t worry.’ His words were bitter.

‘Good.’ Lucius stood, walking close to Draco. ‘If you screw up, Voldemort will kill us both.’ And with a swish of his heavy black cloak, Lucius stalked away.

At least I’ll take you down with me, Draco muttered to himself.