Seven Reasons Not to Love

Part Four - Of Traitors and Spies

Draco rubbed his sleeve across his face, wiping away the blood. He spat some out as he walked through the courtyard, hearing a prefect telling him off as he stalked towards the dungeon common room of the Slytherins. He was furious. Part of his anger directed at Potter, the prat, for punching him. The rest at his incompetent colleagues for ruining everything. Harry Potter knows. That weasel had managed to somehow tell them the secret. Draco knew what he would have to do. Weasley would have to 'disappear' also. He swung around a corner, knocking a first year Hufflepuff student out of his way as he went. Idiots! How could they be so stupid? Draco would find out now.

He reached the corridor that held the entrance to the Slytherin common room, but instead of going in he turned and walked through a tapestry directly opposite. Down the stairs was another corridor, and he walked all the way to the end of that. He waited outside the black door for a moment, listening. There were voices in there, and he slammed himself through the door. Immediately they were silent. Draco felt his anger ebb slightly at their obedient silence. He walked to the head of the table and leant on it, staring at each of the six people there for a moment each before looking at the next.

"So..." he began. Glaring at them again. "You have failed, haven't you?" There was a moment of silence.

"Actually. We haven't," Pansy said quietly, standing. Draco bristled. He didn't like her tone. He approached her and stood directly in front of her, looking down his nose at her defiant expression.

"Explain how you have not failed then, Pansy. Potter knows! The Weasley somehow got a message to him."

"Really? And how did he do that?"

"What?" Draco's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that question. Pansy leaned forward, and out of habit Draco leaned slightly away from her.

"I said how did he get the message to Potter, Draco?"

"And I am supposed to know that...how?" he narrowed his eyes, flicking a strand of hair aside so he could see her eyes clearly...try to read her expression. Pansy seemed to lose her nerve for a moment, breaking under Draco's scrutinizing gaze. However, when Pansy failed to respond, and Draco dared believe this was all the trouble over with, Blaise rose and, throwing a disgusted look at Pansy she came to stand in front of Draco.

"We've spoken to your father Draco. He knows that you failed. He's not very happy. Doesn't think we can trust you as our leader."

"What?" He said again, realising he was sounding increasingly stupid. His mind raced. If Lucius indeed did know, then the Dark Lord would too. And neither would be happy. "I don't believe you, Zabini," he said indifferently, keeping his face blank of emotion. He was angry, and could feel it rising in him, but he worked to keep them from noticing.

"Well, what you think no longer matters, Draco. Here," she reached inside her robes and pulled out a scroll, tied with a black ribbon and sealed in wax. The Malfoy seal was stamped into the wax. Draco's heart skipped a beat. A note from his father. That was never a good sign.

Snatching the scroll from Blaise he unravelled the ribbon and broke the seal, reading the letter quickly. His stomach plummeted.

Dear Draco,

It has come to my attention that you have not been fulfilling your duties as leader of the Seven. Your Lord and I entrusted you with this position in the confidence that you would keep it a secret, and keep our work at Hogwarts out of the eyes of the enemy. It seems you have failed - and disappointed me - yet again. When the Dark Lord finds out he will be displeased, and you should accept your punishment without question. We must, unfortunately, question your loyalty. If you prove yourself, then perhaps the Dark Lord will not kill you. That remains in his hands.

Yours,

Lucius Malfoy

Draco stared at the letter, rooted to the spot until a cough from someone else in the room brought him out of his reverie. He scrunched it in his fist and stared at them.

"Well? What's that supposed to mean? I suppose you blamed it on me did you, you traitorous scum!" Draco slammed Blaise into a wall as he pushed her out of his path. She crumpled slightly, clearly dazed.

"What exactly do you plan to do without me? You'll be worthless...directionless..." he continued to storm across the room towards the end of the table closest to the door. Blaise straightened herself, running a hand down her robes as she looked up.

"Don't take it out on us Draco," she said coldly, approaching him. "It's not our fault you are weak and could not handle the responsibility."

"Me, weak? That's rich coming from you given that you just placed all the blame upon me, when it was you I assigned the task of watching over Weasley."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have delegated a task meant for yourself. Maybe you should have stopped being so god damned sure you were in control..." Blaise stopped, taking a tiny step backwards as Draco marched right up to her and pointed a finger at her face. He spoke through clenched teeth.

"That's easy for you to say, with no expectations of you..."

"Just leave Draco. Face it that you weren't good enough."

Draco opened his mouth to respond but then paused and stared around the table. He let out a soft laugh and turned. "I will leave. You're not worth it, and without me, the Dark Lord will see how pathetic you really are." He slammed the door behind him, the sound reverberating loudly through the stone corridors. He knew what he was going to do now. He'd speak with his father; explain the situation to him and then he'd be able to put Zabini in her place. He slowed his pace, suddenly feeling the letter against his palm. He paused and took a glance behind him before unfolding the letter and reading it again. His father was displeased. Would he even listen to Draco? Of course he would. Draco shoved the letter in his back pocket and continued walking back to the common room, steeling himself for his father's initial anger.

Once back in the common room Draco made straight for his dormitory, even though at least two people tried to talk to him when he entered. He ignored them all and went up the two flights of stairs to his room, cautiously pushing the door open to peek round the corner. Luckily none of his roommates were in the room, so he had no questions to answer. He took out his wand and pointed at the door.

"Colloportus!" he whispered. The door sealed itself and he wandered across to the fireplace. There he knelt by the small fire - certainly insubstantial to heat a dungeon room at this time of year - and grabbed some powder from the small ceramic dish on the mantel. He raised his hand to throw, and paused.

Draco took the letter from his pocket and flattened it on the floor next to him before taking a deep breath. He straightened his shoulders and tossed the powder into the fire and said, "Lucius Malfoy," clearly, but quietly. After only a few moments, Draco's father's face appeared in the fireplace, looking distinctly unimpressed. In the short silence that ensued while Draco was thinking how to begin, his father sighed loudly.

"What do you want, Draco? I don't have the time for you now, so make it quick," he said. Draco shuffled slightly closer and took another deep breath.

"I got your letter today, father. Zabini gave it to me." Draco stopped, hoping for a response before he could continue. Lucius raised his eyebrow.

"And? What is the problem? Was I in any way unclear?"

"No, father. I just..." he hesitated, glancing around as he heard a sound like the rustling of material from the opposite corner.

"Draco, just spit it out! What did I teach you about fear? Yes indeed be fearful of what the Dark Lord may do with you, but control that and he might spare you. You failed in you duty, expect what comes to you." Lucius frowned as Draco started to speak.

"But father, it was not my fault. I told Pansy Parkinson and Bl..."

"STOP! Stop there. Draco, that is your excuse for everything you have ever failed in. Even your failure to beat the Potter boy in Quidditch and the Mudblood in exams." Draco made a choked sound of indignation, but his father continued. "I haven't the time to listen to your pleading that it is not your fault. Show some backbone and take the blame yourself for once! The Dark Lord does not like cowards."

"But father! This time..."

"I don't want to hear it," he snapped, disappearing from the fireplace with a small popping sound. Draco stared for a few moments longer into the fire, its flames dancing amongst the gaps in the logs. He then looked up at the ceiling, falling backwards to lie flat on the floor. He shut his eyes, letting the letter and the conversation run through his mind like a banner scrolling across the backs of his eyelids. His father would not protect him. The Dark Lord was angry with him.

Draco sat bolt upright again, staring into the corner. He had just heard the rustling sound again. As he watched he saw the curtains sway, brushing against the bedside table closest. He relaxed, relieved, when a whooshing noise grabbed his attention, and an owl swooped in through the window. It hovered over him a moment before dropping its letter on his stomach and flying back through the window. Draco hesitated before picking up the letter with a shaking hand. Carefully opening it he saw a short note that had been written in a small, curly script with red ink.

We told you. No one fails Lord Voldemort. Watch your back Malfoy...we're watching you too. No one fails Lord Voldemort and lives.

Draco threw the note into the fire and lay back down, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. They were going to kill him.