Bleeding Roses

Chapter 6

To Be A Malfoy

The elegant eagle owl swooped in the room gracefully. Draco looked up at the bird, and his heart started pounding with apprehension. Tied to the leg of his owl was a scroll of green parchment with a black ribbon. The letter M was stamped on the paper. Draco's hands shook as he reached over to untie the letter. He knew what it was going to contain. He untied the ribbon and started to read, his frown deepening at every word. When he finished reading, he crinkled up the paper and threw it on his desk. He plopped down on his bed and stared hopelessly at the green and silver canopy of his four-poster.

*****

"You wanted to see us, sir?" Draco said as he and Hermione entered Dumbledore's office.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Please take a seat."

He gestured the chairs in front of his desk. Draco and Hermione each took a seat.

"I would like to congratulate you for doing such a great job being Head Boy and Head Girl," Dumbledore said. "That's why I think one more duty won't hurt. As I have mentioned before, we are going to have Winter Dance and I would need you two to help plan it, since you know your peers better than we do."

"Why are we having a dance all of a sudden?" Draco asked a little ruder than he had planned, which earned him a glare from Hermione. Personally, he had never really liked Dumbledore, so he did not have much respect for the man.

"The War, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore answered. "We may never have a chance to have fun and enjoy life anymore. It will tear everyone apart, so we might as well have some fun while we can during this somewhat peaceful time."

Draco was skeptical, but he let it slide.

"The Winter Dance will be held on Christmas Eve," Dumbledore said. "It is a formal occasion, therefore, everyone must wear dress robes. In addition, all years are allowed to attend. I will inform students about it in the Great Hall tonight. I trust that you two will plan a splendid dance."

"We will," Hermione said.

They stood up and walked toward the door. Draco had almost reached the doorknob when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh and one more thing," he said. "The Head Boy and Girl are to go together."

They exchanged glances and nodded.

*****

"No snakes on the walls Draco!" Hermione said exasperatedly in Draco's bedroom.

"How about the ceiling?" Draco asked.

"No snakes!" she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Christmas is a joyful celebration," she said. "I don't want anything that will dampen the Christmas spirit. Especially not something so morbid and Slytherin-y."

"Then you're going to have to put the color green in the decorations," Draco said.

"We have to," she replied. "Green and red are Christmas colors, remember?"

"Was I supposed to know that?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. "Don't you celebrate Christmas?"

"We don't really celebrate it," Draco said sullenly. "The holiday just gives my mother an excuse to throw party after party. She was voted Witch Weekly's Best Hostess four years in a row... But we never actually decorated the Manor with Christmas colors or trees or whatever."

"Wow... I never knew that."

"Now you do."

"I'm sorry your parents deprive you of so much fun and happiness."

"That's not all that they deprive me from."

Hermione remained silent.

Draco cleared his throat and said, "I think we should get more parchment."

"Yeah," Hermione said, glad to have another subject to talk about. "Is it on your desk?"

"Yes," he replied. "There's a whole stack there."

Hermione stood up and walked over to Draco's desk. Draco was right. There was a lot of parchment. When her hands started to reach for the stack, a crumpled piece of paper caught her eye, so she took that instead. She turned around and asked, "What is that?"

"What is what?" Draco asked, not looking up.

"This piece of paper," she said.

Draco turned and looked at the paper in her hand and his eyes widened. "Th--that's nothing... really," he said.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously and started to straighten out the paper.

"Don't!" Draco said angrily. "You can't go through my stuff whenever you want to!"

"Then tell me what this is," she said.

"No!" Draco was starting to get angry.

"We're friends, remember?" Hermione said. "Friends don't keep things from each other."

"Crabbe and Goyle don't know anything about me," he retorted.

"That's because they aren't your real friends," she said smoothly.

"And you are?" he said coolly. "How long have we been friends again?"

"Why are you always like this?" she said.

"Like what?" he said through gritted teeth. "If you don't mind, bring me the stack of parchment."

"If this is how you treat people," she said angrily, "no wonder you have no friends."

Draco wasn't angry anymore. He just looked at her. Hermione suddenly wished that she hadn't said that.

"I--I'm really sorry," Hermione stuttered. "I shouldn't have said that..."

Draco took a deep breath. There was no way he was going to admit that she was right. There was no way... Absolutely no--

"No...you're right," he said. "All of my friends aren't my real friends. They're just after my power and money." Hermione looked sympathetic. "And I don't need your pity," he added harshly.

"Even if I'm not your real friend either," she said. "Then I'm probably the closest thing to a real friend you have."

Draco did not respond.

"So..." Hermione hesitated. Should she try her luck? "What's on that paper?"

Draco sighed. "It's a letter if you must know," he said. "Read it if you want. It's not like I can stop you."

She eyed him curiously, waiting for him to change his mind. But he didn't. It was okay for her to read it? She straightened out the paper. On it was a short letter in an elegant cursive. It read:

Draco,

I am very disappointed with you during our last meeting. However, I have decided to give you one last chance. Inform me of your decision within a week, before Christmas. I hope you choose the right one. You will be a great asset to the Dark Lord. If you do not choose correctly, we'll have a "talk".

Lucius Malfoy

"Choose... what?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"To become a Death Eater," he said without looking at her.

Hermione reread the letter, comprehension dawning on her.

"You met your father last time and told him that you didn't want to be a Death Eater?" she asked. "You're not a Death Eater?"

Draco sighed and pulled back his sleeves for Hermione to look. His forearms were still pallid, but devoid of any mark. "I don't want to be a Death Eater," he said quietly. "I do not wish to follow in my father's footsteps."

"Then what are you going to do?" she asked nervously. "What does he mean by 'we'll have a talk'?" She was dreading the answer to that question.

"You know, the usual," he said bitterly. "Spending days in the dungeons, wishing that you were dead... but this time, maybe I'll get my wish."

Hermione was on the verge of saying that she was sorry, but she knew that he wouldn't take any of her pity. "How can you let him to that to you?" she asked.

"I don't have a choice!" Draco said.

"Yes you do!" she said. "Tell him that you will not become a Death Eater and I'll do anything I can to stop him from taking you with him!"

"And how will you do that?" he asked skeptically.

"I'll think of something," she said. "There is no way I'm going to live with myself seeing a friend with the Dark Mark on his arm, especially if I could have prevented it."

"That's the problem!" Draco said, standing up and facing her. "You can't prevent it from happening! It's like forcing the Earth to stop revolving!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"We? This is about me. I don't want you to get involved. I'll just go and get the Mark and everyone will be happy."

"You won't be happy! I won't be happy! You can't do this to yourself!"

"There is no other way!"

Hermione looked pensive. Her eyes lighted up and Draco could almost see a light bulb turning on, on top of her head.

"I've got an idea!" she exclaimed. "Go to Dumbledore. He can solve any kind of problem."

"How the hell is that going to work?" he said incredulously. "There is no way that old coot would know how to solve a problem like mine. This has nothing to do with him!"

"You are his student," Hermione said. "Therefore, he is responsible for your welfare. He has to care. Please Draco, if this doesn't work, then you can... you can... well... you know... get the Mark and make your father happy."

Draco still remained skeptical.

"He has helped Harry out of many tight situations," she said. Thinking about Harry made her angry, so she quickly added, "Please trust me on this, Draco."

Draco sighed and said, "Sure, whatever."

*****

Hermione was tired and apprehensive. She had managed to convince Harry and Ron to work with her for their History of Magic project. So she was sitting in the library, a pile of books and parchment beside her, waiting for her two former friends' arrival. They had agreed to meet in the library at seven, but it was now seven fifteen and they were still absent. Angry flared inside of her again. Just when she was about to start working without them did they strut in.

"What took you so long?" she asked angrily.

"None of your concern," Ron said grudgingly.

Harry rolled his eyes, as Hermione shot Ron a venomous glare.

"Come on guys," Harry said. "We were supposed to work here, not glare at each other."

Hermione and Ron both looked at him curiously.

"What?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Nothing," Ron and Hermione said in unison. This only resulted in another exchange of glares.

"Let's put our grudges aside and get this done quickly," Harry said. "All right?"

They both shrugged. Harry and Ron sat down at Hermione's table as she distributed books to them.

"I just want you to take a few notes on the guy," she said.

"Of course, your Majesty," Ron said sarcastically.

"Are you going to do your work or not?" Hermione snapped.

Ron looked over at Harry, but Harry seemed to be ignoring his glance. So instead, he cursed Hermione inwardly.

The three students worked very silently, only disrupted by the occasional cough and sigh. The atmosphere was icy and uncomfortable. Quite often, the students shifted uneasily in their seats. Everyone was on high alert, which greatly surprised Hermione. She had never felt like this when she had to work with Draco, who was actually her former archenemy. Maybe the reason for their insecurity was their profound knowledge of each other, which obviously included each other's weaknesses.

"This is going nowhere," Ron said exasperatedly, catching both Harry and Hermione off-guard by his sudden outburst. "All these books say is that he was an evil man who hated Muggle-borns. We already know that."

"My books say that too," Harry said.

"Just keep looking," Hermione said as she picked up another book from the pile. "Maybe we'll get something useful."

"Fat chance," Ron muttered.

"Well you've got to at least try," Hermione said wryly.

Ron sighed, but remained silent otherwise. So they continued on their search. Twenty minutes later, Hermione was now down to the last book in the pile. Reading for several minutes, she gasped, which caught Harry and Ron's attention.

"What?" they asked eagerly.

"I think I've just hit gold," Hermione said calmly and incredulously. She turned the book around so that Harry and Ron could see it better. All three of them leaned closer. The passage read:

Loup Malfoy was known to be the most prejudiced man after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. His hatred of Muggle-borns and non-magical people, more commonly known as Muggles, is renowned among the Wizarding community. His own creation of the word "Sang-de-Bourbe" in French, or translated, "Mudblood", is one of his best-known feats.

"I thought Salazar Slytherin invented the word 'Mudblood'," Harry remarked.

"Maybe Slytherin did," Hermione said. "But he was the one who renewed the meaning to it after prejudice against Muggle-borns started to fade away."

Some things, such as his obscure past, aren't as notable as his hatred of Muggle-borns and Muggles. In fact, he migrated from France to England in the early sixteenth century. His birth name was Loup DesChamps. He became such a disagreeable man that his neighbors called him "Male foi", or bad faith. He, being the strange person that he was, soon took pride in that nickname. His popularity in France became so terrible that even he could not take it anymore. So one day, he packed his bags and decided to move to England to start a new life as a new person. He kept his first name, but he modified his old nickname to an English version, and adopted it as his surname. He became Loup Malfoy, a whole new man.

Jean-François Malefoi, Hermione thought. Malefoi, Malfoy. Exactly what Draco told her... Her thoughts wandered to the pendant, and comprehension dawned on her.

Many historians have pondered the reason of why he hated Muggle-borns so much. According to various resources, including his brief and cryptic journal entries, and his letters to his brother, historians came to only one plausible answer by combining all of their limited resources.

By Malfoy's journals and letters, historians could deduce that his hatred was spurred by heartbreak. His early journal entries indicated his happiness and popularity in the Wizarding community. When he fell in love with Geneviève Lafayette, he couldn't be happier, especially after he learned that she returned his feelings. He was a handsome, resolute, and fiercely independent pureblood, and Geneviève Lafayette was an intelligent and beautiful Muggle-born witch. Soon, they were engaged.

Slowly, Malfoy became interested in the Dark Arts. It started out as just dabbing into it for the mere sake of entertainment. Then, he began to go in deeper. He had always loved to seek thrilling fun. However, when Lafayette discovered his newfound interest, she started having doubts about the integrity of her fiancé. Gradually, she started distancing herself from him. Eventually, she fell in love with another man and called the wedding off. This angered and hurt Malfoy beyond belief. That's when he plunged so deeply into the Dark Arts that he was beyond help.

Little by little, the great person that he once was became replaced by the bitter, obnoxious demon that occupied him for the rest of his life. His popularity diminished rapidly, which did not help his anger at all. If possible, he became even worse. This only caused witches and wizards around him to despise him even more. They started to give him nicknames, such as "Male foi" mentioned above.

In England, Loup Malfoy married Jane Key and started his own businesses. When the economy was failing and Malfoy's companies were losing money, he turned to a wealthy family at that time, the Weasleys. He promised to return the borrowed money as soon as his companies start doing better. However, when his businesses were thriving once again, he did not tell the Weasleys and continued borrowing money from them, still promising to return it. He was greedy and wealthy. He hired Edward Richardson to commit theft on the Weasley family and transfer all their possessions in Gringotts' bank to his accounts. This caused James Weasley and his family to crash severely into bankruptcy, as well as in their rank in Elizabethan England.

Both Harry and Hermione looked at Ron instinctively. His entire face was red and his eyebrows were furrowed together. Without saying anything, they resumed reading.

In Malfoy's private life, his wife, Jane, bore him two sons. The elder, Jean-François became exiled and put in death by his own father for falling in love with a Muggle-born witch by the name of Katherine Jones. He also hired assassins for the acquisition of Katherine's head. His younger son, Formidilosus, became exactly what a Malfoy should be, according to Loup. The modern Malfoys are all descendants of Formidilosus, because Jean-François had no children.

Several years later, Jane died by an inexplicable cause. Some suspect that Loup Maly murdered her. Others believe that she died of natural causes. To this day, the mystery remains a mystery. A couple of decades later, in 1545, Loup Malfoy died in his sleep at the age of sixty-three, alone and unloved. By his last will and testament, Formidilosus inherited all of the family fortune, making the Malfoy household one of the wealthiest families in all of England.

One thing however, that most witches and wizards don't know is the curse that befell the whole of the Wizarding communities all over the world. This curse originated from the Malfoys. Associated with the curse, was a prophecy. Details are still unknown. The prophecy holds the key to the destruction of the curse and a Dark Lord, probably He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The curse was cast by and the prediction prophesized by the one and only Merlin.

The text ended there, and started a new chapter, talking about an entire other person. All three looked up, forgetting that they were not best friends anymore, and exchanged meaningful glances, slowly registering the new pieces of information.

"We're definitely going to get an A plus on this assignment," Ron remarked.

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"All we need," Hermione said, "is to find out more about this curse and the prophecy."

Hermione quickly copied the entire passage and stuffed her parchment and quill into her backpack.

"Let's go," Hermione said to Harry and Ron. "I think we've got a lot of information today. We can even start writing our essay now."

"Yeah," Harry said and Ron nodded.

There was a very uncomfortable pause.

"Draco isn't really bad you know," Hermione said softly.

Ron sighed and said, "I'm hungry Harry. Let's go."

And without another glance back at her, Harry and Ron left the library, leaving Hermione staring at their backs hopelessly.

*****

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Draco asked uncertainly, only halfway resisting Hermione's tug on his arm.

"We agreed to go to Dumbledore!" Hermione insisted. "You're coming with me no matter what you say!"

"But--" he whined.

"No buts!" Hermione said firmly. Her voice softened as she said, "Don't worry. He keeps things confidential."

Draco still looked reluctant.

"Come on Draco," she said slightly pleadingly. "You said you would! This is going to be beneficial! Trust me! Please!"

Draco rolled his eyes and let her drag him all the way to Dumbledore's office. She rapped on his door and they waited for him to answer. When he did, his smiling face and twinkling blue eyes greeted them.

"Hello Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said brightly, as he stepped back to let them in. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Hermione looked at Draco, urging him to tell Dumbledore. However, Draco was scowling and silent.

"Tell him," Hermione whispered.

Draco made no movement and no response. Hermione sighed.

"Draco's father wants him to become a Death Eater," Hermione said, ignoring the warning looks Draco gave her. "But he doesn't want to. The problem is that he can't even tell his father his decision or... really bad things would happen to him... What should he do?"

"I'm glad you came to me," Dumbledore smiled.

He sat down behind his desk, and leaned back. He closed his eyes and looked pensive. Abruptly, he bent forward and smiled at Draco.

"Have you ever considered becoming a spy?" he asked.