Sometimes, I Even Amaze Myself

~Chapter 2~

I'll be watching you
Oh, can't you see
You belong to me?
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take
Every move you make

The evening approached entirely too quickly for Draco's taste.

Home for the Christmas holidays meant, in his case, spending most of his day in his room doing holiday schoolwork. It was pleasant to pretend that he was back at Hogwarts, away from the Manor, his father, and the expectations perpetually foisted upon him by both his parents. But when his father's house elf had disrupted him with a message from the man to get ready and appear in the ballroom, Draco's little haven was disrupted and the reality of being connected in any way to the name Malfoy was once again his primary concern.

"Tell him I'll be there at once," Draco snapped at the elf, who squealed in terror and instantly vanished. Sighing, Draco headed for his wardrobe. When he had been younger, he had spent hours amusing himself by tormenting the twenty or so House Elves that were captive throughout the Manor. Now, though, it was just a silly, childish game. Like wizard marbles, but without the blood - mostly. What was the use in ordering them uselessly about when they enjoyed - lived for, even - being slaves?

Opening his closet, he stared disinterestedly into it. A grim smile passed over his thin lips at the thought of what Granger would say about his opinion of torturing House Elves.

"Darling, do hurry." His mother was suddenly in the room, her slim beauty augmented by her navy blue dress robes. She swept into the wardrobe ahead of Draco and began to shift through his many robes, her brow delicately arched.

"You look lovely, Mother," Draco commented.

"Thank you, Draco." She favored him with a rare smile as she continued to take stock of his dress robes.

"Oh, we do need to get some more fitted for you," she murmured, shaking her head. "You simply have no variety. Dear, dear."

After another few minutes of sorting through his magnitude of tailored robes, she finally pulled a black set, which were cut for formal occasions.

"These will do," she said, pointing her wand at him and muttering. Instantly, his robes were on and his hair was plastered to his head.

"No, no. That was becoming when you were younger, but now ... " His mother had a tendency to mutter when she dressed him. It was irritating - both that she still chose his clothes for formal events and that she talked to herself. Both his parents rather underestimated him in their own ways, and while Narcissa's way was less aggravating, it was most embarrassing to be dressed by his mother even though he was of age.

His hair now having been secured in a "controlled, windblown" look, Draco was pronounced "lovely" and dragged aristocratically away to fawned over by his mother's friends and dubbed a "fine looking young man" by his father's associates.

Narcissa and Draco paused outside the ballroom doors, straightened their robes and hair unnecessarily in the hall mirror, and then Narcissa nodded and the doors swung open to admit them, enchanted as they were to recognize when one of their owners wished them to.

Aden already stood beside his father, looking unusually tense. Draco forced down a most reluctant smugness. He had warned his brother, after all. Still, he was concerned. Aden's good luck with their parents had always been too good to be true. Fortunately, he seemed to recognize this as well as Draco, and knew to be cautious, but it was hard to tell how long he would be allowed the luxury of such caution. The pressure to have another Malfoy in the ranks of the Death Eaters - one far younger and with sharper reflex and magical response - was like an hourglass glued to a table. Aden was riding good luck for all it was worth and, Draco suspected, trying to decide what to do when the hourglass ran out of sand.

"All right." Lucius was icier than usual as his wife and Draco drew level with him. "Draco, you will remain long enough to greet the guests. Then you will disappear. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said, hiding his relief. The sooner he escaped, the better! The less he had to do with this particular crowd, the safer he would be. His eyes drifted over the crowd and he immediately recognized this particular group of "associates." He threw a glance at his brother, and grey eyes met purple for a brief instant. The former were questioning. The latter were wary, but reassuring. Draco looked away. His brother could take care of himself - for now.

"Aden, you'll remain with your mother and I this evening." Lucius clapped his oldest son on the shoulder. "You want to make a good impression, don't you?"

"Indeed," Aden murmured, looking openly skeptical.

Draco's part went by quickly and he was especially pleased to be allowed an early exit when Clari Nott and Daphne Greengrass were discovered to be among the guests. His brother had been almost right. It wasn't that there weren't decent girls in Slytherin. Or at least, girls worth Draco's time. However, those girls were steadily learning to make themselves invisible at functions like this. Pansy Parkinson hadn't attended a party of this nature with her parents in at least a year. Draco was therefore unsurprised to hear from Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson, in response to his polite inquiry as to Pansy's whereabouts, that she had developed a bad case of pneumonia just days before the party and sent her regrets to Draco, particularly. Draco bit back a snort and sent wishes of a speedy recovery of their daughter home with Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson. Their answering civilities assured Draco that they took this to mean that Draco took more than a passing interest in Pansy. He did, but that interest did not extend beyond an "I'll watch your back if you'll watch mine" sort of friendship. Was that a friendship?

After a brief word with both Blaise Zabini and Teddy Nott, both of whom were properly jealous that Draco was to be set free so quickly, Draco slid away from the party with a last word to his brother, whose fixed smile made Draco chuckle, in spite of his anxiety on his brother's behalf. Despite his jealousy of Aden's liberty, Draco didn't envy his position at the moment. Aden should have received the Dark Mark when he came of age. However, the Dark Lord had all but vanished, so the ceremony was postponed. But now that Voldemort was supposedly on the rise again, Lucius was clearly preparing. That was what this evening's gathering was about.

And what really scared Draco was that Aden would inevitably refuse the Mark. And he would be killed.

Draco slipped up the winding marble staircase to his room and changed into more comfortable attire. Though he enjoyed that all of his robes were tailored and of the finest material, wearing them for more time than was absolutely necessary made him itch for simpler clothing. He never would have admitted this, or allowed his parents to see the stash of comfortable slacks and dark turtlenecks he kept concealed in the farthest corner of his wardrobe.

He chose a navy wool turtleneck and beige slacks, and then left his room, taking the long corridor passed the east wing library to one of the back staircases. It was one of the few that wasn't protectively warded. The entire Manor was littered with hexes, jinxes, and nasty curses to ensure that anyone who wasn't either a Malfoy or a rightful occupant of any given area of the Manor was kept out. Draco was sure that not even his brother, who stood in excellent favor with their father, was aware of all of the protective inventions around the place.

Both brothers snuck around often, to keep them up on their father's activities. With practice, eavesdropping was easy and profitable enough when done well. Lucius' various associates were often around at the Manor and, as many of their children went to school with Draco, he could either sell or barter any information he gleaned about Death Eater activities or potential trouble for his Slytherin Housemates or their families to the highest bidder for Galleons or favors. As for Aden, he profited from the knowledge in a more personal way - by using it to keep himself informed of goings-on within the Inner Circle that might get him into trouble. Draco also kept an ear out for his brother's sake. As the high profile heir to the Malfoy estate, Aden didn't often get a chance to slip away unnoticed when their father's friends came round. He did most of his listening during long days he had to himself. But Draco, who could often find places to conceal himself during evening parties, often accidentally heard more telling rumors and gossip than his brother.

Draco descended the long staircase beyond the east wing library and then circled back around and passed back under the library, which was above and to the left of the ballroom in which his parents' party was being held. Draco paused before a stretch of seemingly bare wall. Glancing both ways to make sure no one was coming, he tapped the wall with his wand and whispered, "Revelo!"

The wall directly in front of him rippled and a tiny seam appeared. Draco pushed on the area to the right of the seam and the hidden doorway opened, letting him inside one of the Manor's many concealed broom closets. Let it not be said that the Malfoys showed anyone that they had anything as low-class as a broom closet in their home!

Draco smiled grimly, closing the door quietly and listening to the zipper-like sound of the door magically concealing itself again. What would Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy say if they knew their son was using one such closet? Draco wondered which would make them more upset; his use of a filthy closet or that he had found one of the many concealed ones. No matter, he thought as he crossed to the opposite wall, the lit tip of his wand lighting the way. They needn't know.

"Emaciato," Draco mumbled at the wall, and suddenly, he could hear through it as though it were paper-thin. And as this wall was conveniently shared with the ballroom ...

"No, really, don't concern yourself, dear," the high voice of Magnolia Greengrass was saying. "That man's a fraud, honestly. He's more bluster than anything. Not even Cornelius Fudge was such a blind fool." If there was a woman in the world whom Draco disliked more than Daphne Greengrass, it was her overweight, overbearing mother. Listening to her try and discuss politics made Draco feel as though his own brain were shrinking on her behalf.

"Oh, certainly, but one must take into account the recent uprising of Mudbloods against the Dark Lord," Geraldine Avery replied, her haughty air perceptible to Draco even behind his wall.

He listened to the two women chatter on in this manner. Draco suspected that everything he heard was more or less accurate, and quoted word for word from the women's husbands. After several minutes of useless prattle about Rufus Scrimgeour, though, he began to wonder if he should find a new closet. Their opinions of Scrimgeour weren't his concern. He needed information that he could use. He was about to leave and poke around for another closet when a comment from Geraldine Avery caught his ear.

"No, honestly, that Muggle lover is as good as sacked," the thin, horse-faced woman said, laughing in a way that made Draco wince. "I suppose you've heard about their plan to blackmail him?"

"Arthur Weasley? Do tell!" Magnolia said, and Draco could just imagine her beady eyes narrowing.

"Well, my husband says it's a simple matter of playing to his kinds' weak spot," Geraldine said, obviously trying to remember the details. "We all know that attacking his family is the easiest way to get to him."

Draco's ears perked up. The Weasleys were widely considered to be blood traitors, but short of Draco's father's complaints about his home and family coming under increasing suspicion because of Weasley's involvement in certain areas of the Ministry, the family name didn't often come up among Lucius' associates. The man simply wasn't important enough within the Ministry to be worth targeting.

"But why the Weasleys?" Magnolia asked Draco's question for him, although he suspected that, unlike him, she wore a look of confusion that bordered on dim-witted.

"Apparently, Weasley was recently promoted to head of the Office of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects," Geraldine said slowly, clearly trying remember whatever it was she had overheard from her husband. "And whatever he's stirring up in his department is calling far too much attention to the sections of the Ministry that the Dark Lord and his followers are trying to manipulate in order to continue their anti-Muggle campaign. It's all dreadfully complicated, but the nub and gist is that Weasley is far too great a troublemaker to be left to his own devises."

Draco didn't doubt it. He knew enough about the Weasleys from their children at Hogwarts to know how close they were to Dumbledore and how likely it was that Arthur Weasley was one of the many agents of the Order of the Phoenix. But surely the Dark Lord knew this, too. Perhaps he had decided that the time had come to show the Weasleys what it meant to stand up to him for the three long decades that they had surely been fighting him.

"So what does the Dark Lord mean to do about the man?" Magnolia (and the eavesdropper three feet to her right) wanted to know.

"I don't know," Geraldine said, and Draco smirked as he imagined the cogs in her sluggish brain turning. "George didn't say very much. All I got was that he planned on blackmailing the family. They're so ridiculously sentimental. Apparently, amid the gobs of children that Molly Weasley has churned out there's a girl. I understand that Lucius used her once before to try and bring You-Know-Who back to life. At any rate, it would seem the Dark Lord has shown some interest in her again and wishes for her captivity. Apparently, she is with her family at present. It would seem that the Inner Circle's top priority is to abduct her."

Draco froze. Ginny?

"I believe that awful Potter boy is quite attached to her as well," Magnolia added, probably pleased to have come to this all by herself. "Perhaps the Dark Lord wishes to use her to lure Potter to him."

"And everyone will want her back," Geraldine finished. "Leverage on Arthur Weasley and the key to Harry Potter - we'll keep her under lock and key until they give in to our demands."

"La, darling," Magnolia said, and they both laughed in what they probably imagined to be a smug and knowing way.

Draco sat frozen. Though crudely related, the scheme Geraldine had laid out to her friend was probably fairly close to the gist. Women weren't highly regarded within You-Know-Who's hierarchy and those who climbed the ladder of power kept themselves aware and well-informed.

Whatever the accuracy, one thing seemed evident: Ginny was in danger. Geraldine and Magnolia were probably right, at least, about You-Know-Who wanting to use the youngest Weasley to lure Potter to him. Draco had also heard rumors about Ginny's involvement during the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets during his second year. Perhaps You-Know-Who had a permanent connection with Ginny as a result of whatever happened that year. Perhaps he needed her for some plot or other.

Draco stepped back from the wall, muttering, "Corpulentus," as he went. He pushed the secret doorway open and carefully reentered the still-deserted hallway. He stalked back to his room, brow furrowed in thought. Once there, he pulled his turtleneck over his head and threw himself onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, lost in thought. He could probably warn Dumbledore in time for him to do something to protect Ginny. He probably wouldn't be able to convince her family of Draco's good intentions, but at least he could tell someone.

Once upon a time, you wouldn't have given a damn about the Weasleys, he thought bitterly. But the thought of a bunch of Death Eaters getting their hands on Ginny, the thought of the way they might treat her ... Draco shuddered, biting his lip. If he were really honest with himself, he wouldn't have wished that lot on anyone. But something about the thought of George Avery with his hands on Ginny - well, it made Draco's blood boil. He scowled as he tried to categorize this protective feeling for the girl with the same feeling he got toward Pansy sometimes. But he rarely lied to or tried to deceive himself - better to save the deception for a time when it could benefit him. He knew why he wanted to do something to protect Ginny, even if it meant passing the responsibility on to another.

Darkness had long since settled outside his bedroom windows when he finally heard Aden's footfalls past his door.

"Alabastus," Draco called, pointing his wand at his door. It flew open. A strangled curse came from somewhere just outside his line of vision.

"Fuck, are you trying to maim me?" Aden appeared in the doorway, rubbing his shoulder. He looked quite irritable.

"I need to talk to you," Draco told him tersely, sitting up. Normally, Draco wouldn't have spoken to his admired brother that way, but he was too troubled to think twice about it now. Likewise, Aden didn't usually take too well to being ordered around by his kid brother. However, something about Draco's face must have caught his attention.

"What is it?" he demanded, coming in and shutting the door. He pulled off his robes, under which he was wearing, comically enough, exactly the outfit that Draco had had on before he had discarded his shirt.

"Did you hear anything about Ginny Weasley tonight?" Draco asked bluntly.

"Funny, I did." Aden eyed him shrewdly for a moment before taking a seat beside him on the bed. "They're planning on abducting her. In fact, they elected tonight to put Lucius in charge. Sounds like they're watching Diagon Alley so that whenever she and her family might do their Christmas shopping they can snag her. Even with all the disappearances these days it gets pretty crowded around holidays. It'll be easy if loads of people are around. They can just grab her hand and Apparate."

"Shit," Draco hissed, glaring at his green duvet. He really hadn't asked for this. He didn't especially want to care so much.

"That's not all," Aden said, looking grim. He lay back and stared up at the canopy above the bed. "Although you might find this part more amusing. You know Dad wants me to marry soon, to secure the entail of the Malfoy estate, which is only good if I'm married. Tradition bullshit, you know. Anyway, guess who your new sister-in-law might be if I don't find someone better?"

"Who?" Draco's attention away was temporary distracted from Ginny. Aden didn't talk much about the immense pressure he was under to marry and marry well. The Malfoy estate went to the eldest child, so long as that child was married and thus had the capacity to carry on the bloodline. The marriage also had to be to a respectable and, if at all possible, Pureblood family, thus maintaining a purity of blood.

"Pansy Parkinson," Aden muttered, his lip curling.

His younger brother gave a surprised laugh.

"You're not serious," he demanded, partly in amusement, but mostly in aversion. He wasn't sure who he pitied more, his brother or Pansy, but he knew that the idea of his brother marrying her both irritated and bothered him. "I thought they wanted me to marry her. Everyone always assumes we're shagging or been set an arranged marriage or something."

"But what does her family gain by her marrying you?" Aden countered, staring at the ceiling. "I'm the heir. I get the money and property and all that. God, I'm fucked."

"Thanks for reminding me," Draco sulked. "Pansy's my friend, so if you do marry her I suggest you be good to her."

"Cut me a break, Draco," Aden said in disgust. "I can't stand the little twat. Anyway, she's - what - fifteen?"

"Almost eighteen," Draco corrected, rather sharply. "Cut it out, Den. I know you're not happy, but -"

"Yeah, yeah, we've got bigger problems," Aden said, waving a hand. "I forgot. It's all about Drake."

"Yeah, and I've got to do something for Ginny," Draco said coolly. "I can't leave her to the Dark Lord." He turned his head to look at his brother. "I mean - Jesus, Den, imagine an innocent girl in the hands of blokes like Avery and Goyle and LeStrange?"

"Point taken," Aden said grimly. He gave Draco a small grin. "And being mad about her I'm sure has nothing to do with wanting to save her." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Warning her wouldn't help," he said slowly. "She couldn't do anything. Lucius' operatives are too good. And no point in you warning her family. They'd never believe you. Hmm." He sat for a moment in contemplative silence, and Draco let him think without interruption till Aden finally looked at him, square in the eye. "There's only one way to make sure that she'll be really safe."

"What?" Draco propped himself on his elbow.

"You have to get to her first," Aden said.

"What?" Draco stared at him.

"The only way you'll know that she's safe is by putting yourself in a position to watch out for her. Or, rather, put her in a position to be watched."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Not a suggestion, kid." Aden eyed him grimly. "You've got to kidnap her and keep her in Malfoy Manor yourself."

"Are you mad?" Draco demanded. "I'd be playing right into Father's hands!"

"Not if you play it right," Aden insisted, lowering his voice. "If she goes missing, and the only people who know where she is are you, me, her father, and a Secret-Keeper, I reckon she could live right here in the house and no one would know. And if Lucius goes looking for her, where's the last place he'll think to check?"

Draco felt a reluctant smile tug at his lips.

"His own house," he concluded, smirking at his brother. "You're one smart bloke."

"I know, what can I say?" Aden grinned faintly back, his mouth twisted mischievously.

"So how do I do it?" Draco asked, his smile fading. "I would need someone really on Weasley's side for Secret-Keeper, first of all - " he broke off as the obvious answer came to him. Another slow smile crawled onto his lips.

"You seem to have someone in mind," Aden prompted.

"Of course. Albus Dumbledore," Draco said swiftly. "He's barking mad, but he's really powerful and the Weasleys trust him completely, I'm sure they do. He'd be an ideal Secret-Keeper. And he'd be able to explain everything to Ginny's mum and dad so they'd understand."

"Right, sounds good," Aden agreed. "So your first step is getting an owl off to him. You can use Aerostar. That way Dad won't get suspicious. I'll go get him."

They spent almost an hour composing a detailed letter to Dumbledore. There was a good deal of rewriting and revising before it sounded convincing enough to either of them. Even when it was complete, Draco was apprehensive. He had never shown any respect for Dumbledore's rules and had, on many occasions, deliberately ignored his lectures about tolerance and "common decency". And now here he was, asking the man to trust him with the life of a girl whose family he had made it his policy to persecute.

"Good as it gets," he sighed, signing his name and sitting back from his desk.

"Read it back," Aden ordered from his slouched seat on the desk, with his back against the wall.

Draco cleared his throat and began.

Professor Dumbledore,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have a matter of great importance that needs your attention. As you know, my father is closely connected with Voldemort's inner circle. My brother and I recently attended - it took too much time to explain how Draco had actually come by the information - a party thrown by our father, and came to understand that plans are being made to blackmail Arthur Weasley. His daughter Ginevra is the hostage of choice.

Our father intends to abduct her. We don't know when, but we've gathered that it was happen sometime during the Christmas holiday. The castle will be mostly deserted, and our father has a number of associates at his disposal. We don't know what he'll do with Ginevra when he has her, but whatever it is, it won't be nice.

I'll come to the point. I want to help protect Ginevra. I have a plan that my brother and I think will work quite well. I won't say anymore now, but please contact me in some discreet manner three days from today (the 7^th of December) so that we can work something out. I will be in my room in Malfoy Manor.

Thank you,

Draco Malfoy

"That'll work," Aden nodded approvingly. "Aerostar's really fast. She'll have the letter to him in plenty of time for Dumbledore to contact you."

"Right." Draco reached for a piece of twine and bound the letter to the leg of the enormous owl that was perched upon Aden's shoulder. Then he went to the window and unlatched it. Aerostar soared into the night, disappearing over the forest.

"Guess that's it, then," Draco murmured, leaning on the windowsill.

"For you, anyway," Aden muttered, and Draco suddenly remembered the other subject of their discussion.

"About that," he said. "Look, there're plenty of rich Purebloods who'd give their right leg and first born child to be married to you. You are the Malfoy heir."

"I know." Aden smiled ruefully at his little brother. "I had always kind of hoped to indulge in the courtship, romance, true love thing, but I guess I don't really have that kind of time." He paused, then added, "And I honestly can't think of a woman I want to spend eternity with."

"Have any close friends you could con into it?" Draco asked.

"Well, there're a couple," Aden said thoughtfully. "But I value their friendship too much to - " he broke off. A moment later, a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. "I wonder if Jacie's still around somewhere," he murmured, toying absently with the quill Draco had been writing with.

"Who's that?" Draco asked curiously. He only knew a couple of his brother's friends, but that name didn't ring a bell.

"Old school nemesis," Aden said distantly, the smile becoming nostalgic as he got up and crossed the room to stand beside Draco by the window. "I gave her hell, she gave me black eyes - when I let her. Kind of like your friend Ginny. Horribly poor, too. Not important enough to - " he broke off again, his expression rigid. When it relaxed again, his face had split into a wide grin.

"Of course," he whispered. "Of bloody course! Third year - god, I can't believe I forgot!"

"What?" Draco demanded, turning from the window to face his brother. The older man was wide-eyed and looking mirthful.

"Third year was when Jacie transferred to Durmstrang," Aden explained. "Her father put her in Durmstrang, hoping to get himself into Voldemort's inner crowd. He was dirt poor, though. In order to get her in, he had to create this whole fake fortune and name for his family. He invented a whole story, saying they lived in the East. The façade lasted until sixth year. Then a contemptuous relative blew his cover. Jacie was expelled, but so powerful a witch that Dumbledore took her in at Hogwarts. She was a Ravenclaw, I think."

"So you're thinking ... what?" Draco prompted.

"Well, she's bound to be around somewhere," Aden said. "I'll just dig her up and offer the chance to be the richest witch in the universe. She hates poverty - let's face it, who wouldn't? - and I think I could get her to come round. We'd just have to come up with some alias for her and make up a rich family somewhere. God, I love a challenge!"

"What's her last name?" Draco asked.

"Her real last name is Pierce," Aden said, his eyes rolled up in thought.

Draco started.

"Her name's Jacie Pierce?" he asked. "That's weird."

"Why?"

"Well, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Pierce and I think ... " Draco paused, but he was sure he remembered Dumbledore saying her full name at the opening feast last September. "I think," he resumed, "her first name is Jacqueline."

Aden's eyes widened.

"That was her full name. She always liked Jacie better." He paused, still astonished. "Well, she'd be ideal for something like Defense Against the Dark Arts. We studied the Dark Arts almost exclusively at Durmstrang. What does she look like?"

"She's tall, almost as tall as me," Draco said thoughtfully. "She's got really long light brown hair." He grinned. "Most of the blokes in school wanted her for the first week of school. She's hot. She can't be more than twenty-three, but she's one of the toughest professors I've ever had." And that was saying something, considering he had had Professor Snape for six years.

"That's her." Aden shook his head in wonder, though his eyes were mischievous. "Bet I could convince her take on an alias."

"If she's anything like Ginny, it's gonna be rough," Draco put in, looking doubtful.

"You doubt my abilities," Aden cried dramatically, clutching his chest. "That gets me here, kid!"

Draco laughed, and then yawned.

"Yeah, yeah, trying to get rid of me," Aden said. He got up and headed for the door.

"Aden?" Draco called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Are you serious about Professor Pierce?"

Aden smirked.

"We're as good as on our honeymoon."