Harry Potter and the Black Secret

Chapter Fourteen

Conflicted Interests

Draco stood defiantly in the middle of the room, staring straight-ahead keeping all his focus on making his face emotionless. Unreadable.

The elder man circled around him, his face a reflection of pure malice. This was not an uncommon scenario.

The situation resembled that of a buzzard circling its prey, waiting until the perfect moment to strike. The instant that Draco gave Lucius a reason, not that he needed a reason, then it would happen just as it has happened a hundred times before. Things were different this time though. This time Draco had something to lose.

Lucius was a very intimidating man; there was no denying it. He reeked of confidence, power and danger. His frosted eyes stood out against his sharp jaw and he had peroxide hair that reached his shoulders and established his height. He wore only dark colours to contrast his porcelain skin. A long, expensive black cloak rippled around his ankles like a wave on the shore. He brandished his trademark staff, complete with serpent head in a black leather gloved hand. Draco knew that this staff concealed his Father's wand.

It was the usual rant. Draco's grades weren't good enough, he had still failed to beat Potter in a Quidditch match, and he was a useless, spoiled brat and so on and on. Lucius didn't care about any of this of course, not really. He just wanted a reaction out of Draco, and at the same time didn't want one.

If Draco gave in and tried to defend himself, Lucius would get to vent his rage on the boy. If Draco didn't, then it meant that Draco had more control over his sentiments than Lucius gave him credit for, and it also meant that Draco would have submitted to Lucius's command.

Things were not going Lucius's way though. Sure enough, Draco remained silent, not rising to the bait, but he didn't seem controlled, or even scared. He was just impatient. Bored.

Lucius stopped in front of his son, staring straight into his eyes, although their gazes never met. The likeness was chilling. Draco stood only an inch below his Father now. They had the same glacial eyes and the same colourless hair, even though Draco's was cut much shorted than his Fathers.

Lucius realised something in that moment. Draco was no longer a stubborn boy. He was a determined young man.

A spine-chilling smirk passed over Lucius's lips.

"You've changed," he said.

"If you say so Sir," Draco replied impassively.

"I do say so," Lucius said, "You've grown up."

Draco said nothing. There was a point in his life when his Father's praise would have meant everything to Draco, now it chilled him.

"How old are you now Draco?" Lucius asked.

"Seventeen next month," Draco replied, knowing full well that Lucius knew how old he was.

"You're younger than I was, but then I didn't have the guidance that you have been privy to. You have the advantage of a strong family backing and the freedom and opportunity to learn.

Do you remember what we spoke of last summer Draco?"

Draco could feel the tension inside of him boiling up. The sheer arrogance of the man. Of course Draco could remember, he was hardly likely to forget. He didn't trust himself to speak aloud, so he just nodded his head in compliance.

"I believe you are ready for a task," Lucius said.

Draco felt like his blood had transfigured itself into Liquid Nitrogen. He fought to keep his face passive.

"I've been searching for someone," Lucius said.

Just with this sentence Draco felt his temperature drop another couple of degrees. Not this, please, anything by this.

"It seems that my sources were not as reliable as I had previously hoped. I was too late in Chicago, which is where I last was. I did learn something in the city though, a very useful piece of information."

Part of Draco wanted to run out of the room, the other part desperately wanted to know what Lucius had to say.

"You know of Sirius Black of course," Lucius continued, "You are aware that Black was never a Death Eater, we always knew. That good for nothing Gryffindor would never have the guts to break away from the safety of his little gang of friends. Not that Pettigrew was any better, useless piece of vermin. He was scared, but at least he could see who the winning side was.

Black has a child. A daughter."

Draco kept silent.

"A sixteen year old daughter to be exact. That is the information I now possess. It narrows down our search considerably don't you think?"

Draco nodded.

"Now that Black has been cleared," Lucius said, bitterness clear in his voice, "He will certainly want to see his daughter. Tell me Draco, are there any new students in your year, or perhaps the year below?"

Draco set his face. This was important. He couldn't fail. He spent a few seconds looking like he was systematically sorting through the students at his school.

"No," he answered firmly, "Not that I've noticed."

Lucius nodded, seeming to accept his son's answer.

"I doubted it. Hogwarts, secure though it is, would be the most obvious place to hide her, and she is very important, they wouldn't risk keeping her somewhere so public. Unless they don't know just how important she is..."

"Why," Draco started, waiting for a nod from his father before continuing, "Why is she so important? Doesn't the Master want Harry Potter more than some girl?"

Lucius humoured his son's curiosity.

"Potter's time will come," he said, "But Miss Black is a priority. Are you sure you don't have something to tell me Draco?"

Draco shook his head.

"Pity. Now then, your task. I need you to keep an eye on Snape for me," Lucius said.

"Snape?" Draco said forgetting his decorum, "What does he have to do with anything?"

Lucius's eyes flashed.

"It is not your place to question me Draco. Perhaps you are not quite as disciplined as you seemed. A lesson in status maybe?"

The inevitable hit. Right across the back of Draco's shoulder blades.

Draco woke up in cold sweat.

*

Kristine jolted awake.

She had to see Draco. It was a fact. Reason didn't have any place in her psyche at this moment. Draco needed to see her.

She pulled on a white dressing gown over her pyjamas and headed out of her room. Just as she realised that she had no idea how to get to Draco a voice spoke to her.

"Sneaking out again sweetheart? Who's the lucky feller tonight then?"

Kristine jumped and turned to see no one standing in the corridor.

"Over here Honey," the voice said again.

Kristine turned to the wall and sure enough, the portrait of a young woman in a green dress was talking to her. Kristine didn't even know that this portrait could speak. She had always been referred to as 'The Green Maiden', and was just, well, a picture on the wall.

Looking more closely at the woman Kristine could see that she was no older than twenty. She had long curly chocolate brown hair tied up in an elaborate knot, big brown eyes and a stunning figure. Her makeup was traditional to centuries past, a beauty spot positioned on her left cheekbone.

"Excuse me?" Kristine said.

"Don't be shy love," the maiden said, "A pretty girl like you should have fun while she's young. Come on, you can tell me. The lushes red head? That raven haired hunk with emerald eyes? Or perhaps it's the sexy Slytherin you're off to see?"

Kristine gaped at the maiden.

"I'm not...I don't...What the hell are you talking about!" Kristine exclaimed.

"I'm no fool my dear. Three handsome young men coming up to your bedroom at all hours of the day and night. I don't blame you; I wouldn't be able to choose between them either. Wouldn't want to either," she added with a wink.

"I am not seeing three guys!" Kristine said in disbelief at the nerve of this brazen picture.

"Could have fooled me sweetness," the picture said, "But if you're not, set me straight. You must be seeing at least one of them?"

"Its none of your business," Kristine said getting agitated.

"Oh come on cutie-pie, I won't tell a soul I promise," the maiden pushed, "if you tell me that is."

"What?" Kristine said, "You wouldn't."

"I don't want to, but entertaining three naïve young men all at once does seem like the sort of thing one should inform the Head of House about."

"I am not! Oh, alright!" Kristine said, giving in to the gssipy whims of the scandal-starved portrait.

"Ron, that's the red head, he is just a friend. I'm teaching him some advanced magic and we have to use my room so as not to injure any unsuspecting students. Harry, the other Gryffindor, he's my brother, so ewwww! We are just talking. And the Slytherin, well, yes, we are seeing each other. Happy now muffin?" Kristine said imitating the maidens was of speaking.

"Ecstatic, thanks sweetie" she replied, "And in that case, the password is Capulet."

"Capulet?" Kristine said, "Password for what?" But the question was answered as the Maiden's picture swung back and revealed a stone staircase spiralling down into shadows.

"Have fun baby doll," the Maiden said as Kristine descended down into the dark.

As soon as the light from the corridor disappeared, indicating that the portrait hole was closed once again, Kristine help out her hand, palm upwards and spoke.

"Lumos," she said, and a small ball of light hovered above her hand lighting up her face and revealing the passageway down, away from Gryffindor Tower.

When Kristine reached the last step, a narrow passage protruded in front of her. Still unsure of where exactly she was going she headed along the enclosed space. Finally, she reached the end.

In front of her was a tapestry depicting a familiar crest. An elaborately drawn 'M'. A snake curled around one half of the letter, a dragon at the base of the letter and a Latin inscription over the top.

Carpe Noctem. Seize the Night.

She pushed the tapestry aside and exposed a door, which she promptly opened and stepped through into a large room.

It was exactly as you'd expect the Malfoy suite to look. Green Slytherin hangings, dismal lighting, and lots of black furniture.

The room was empty.

The sound of a door opening and a figure emerging at the other end of the room incited Kristine to start, and the sight of someone in the room made Draco yelp.

"Kristine!" Draco exclaimed, "How did you get in here!"

"Nice to see you too," Kristine said, "Why didn't you tell me about this passage way thing?"

"You never asked," Draco replied wryly, "Come on, how did you think I was getting in and out of Gryffindor Tower?"

"I don't know," Kristine muttered, then remembering why she had been looking for Draco in the first place, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, "Just a bad dream. I assume you sensed my total lack of fear."

"Light a homing beacon," she said smiling, "Want to talk about it?"

Draco shook his head.

"Nothing to tell," he said, "Same old, same old."

"You dreamt about it again," Kristine said dejectedly, "Its been two weeks now Draco, maybe you should talk to someone."

"I talk to you," he said trying to lighten the mood.

"I meant someone who can do something about it," she replied seriously.

Draco shook his head stubbornly.

"No. They're just dreams, they don't mean anything," he said, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself more than Kristine.

Kristine decided not to push. It was enough that he's told her about his horrific time at Malfoy Manor.

"Ok," she said, and then deciding to change the subject, "I think that Maiden guarding the passage fancies you."

"Of course she does," Draco said grinning, "She has eyes doesn't she."

Kristine couldn't help but laugh. Same old Draco Malfoy. Self Obsessed and vain as ever.

"Why is it there a passageway from Gryffindor Tower to here anyway?" Kristine asked, "Not that it isn't useful," she added thoughtfully.

"Don't you know the sordid truth behind our beloved founders?" Draco said in mock shock.

Kristine smiled.

"Enlighten me."

"Well," Draco said, walking up to Kristine, "Legend has it that dear Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor were twins separated at birth. When they found each other again after a couple of decades they wanted get to know each other, and so Godric had a second set of quarters built for his sister inside Gryffindor Tower. That would be your room love.

They became very close; it was like they'd never been apart. But then, dear Rowena fell for a handsome young man by the name of Salazar Slytherin. It's generally acclaimed that Slytherin was obsessed with Rowena, so much so that he slipped a love potion into her wine one evening, gaining the desired effect.

I don't buy that though, I recon they just fancied each other and started having a meaningless physical affair.

The point is, in order for Rowena to slip into Slytherin's quarters without being noticed and vice-versa; they needed to build some kind of secret passageway, et voila! They did.

These are Slytherin's quarters, which have been Malfoy quarters for the last half a century what with there being no other Slytherin's about. One of the perks of being born to a powerful Wizarding family."

He said the last part a little disdainfully.

"Are you seeing the similarities in that story too, or is it just me?" Kristine said leaning back as Draco's arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Nope," he said dismissively as he started kissing her neck.

She turned round in his arms and slid her arms around him.

"Can I stay here tonight?" she asked.

"Very stupid question," Draco said capturing her lips in his.

*

Kristine was sitting next to Draco in Transfiguration. She had been doing her best to stay out of Ron's way the last couple of weeks. He seemed oddly hostile towards her and every time she tried to asked him what was wrong he either ignored her completely or walked off. It's very hard to determine the cause of a falling out when one party won't even make eye contact with the other.

Harry and Hermione had done their best, but to no avail. Kristine had told Harry to stay with Ron and not to sit with her in classes. Ron was Harry's best friend and she didn't want to be the cause of an argument between them. It had taken Kristine pointing out that Harry and her were family now, they had all the time in the world to be stuck together, before he consented and stopped trying to force the truth out of Ron.

Kristine and Draco did their best to look like they hated each other, but everyone had noticed that they fought less and less. No one seemed to be suspicious though as they still made the odd public performance of name-calling and occasional hex. To the outside world it looked like they had come to a mutual understanding of dislike and Draco had gone back to openly hating Harry with a vengeance.

Ron on the other hand was a different matter. He seemed to become even more antagonistic when he saw Kristine and Draco sitting together, even though they were ignoring each other, and kept throwing hateful gazes her way.

"Is he still being more of an arsehole than usual?" Draco asked, not looking up from attempting to turn his quill into a jewel encrusted letter opener.

"Yes," Kristine answered bitterly, not bothering to defend Ron, "I don't know what's gotten into him but it's getting real old, real fast."

That evening in Gryffindor common room, Kristine and Hermione were doing their Arithmancy homework at the table in the corner of the room, Harry and Ron sitting opposite them falsifying their Divination homework.

Ron was completely ignoring Kristine's presence, and Kristine was getting irate although doing her best not to show it.

"Can you pass that textbook please," she asked indicating the large volume sitting right next to Ron's left hand.

Nothing.

"Ron, the book, if you can manage to move that far," she said.

Still nothing.

Harry and Hermione were watching nervously exchanging slightly worried glances.

"Ron!" Kristine nearly shouted.

Ron, now red across the cheeks with anger, gripped his quill tighter but still refused to move.

That was it. Kristine snapped.

She stood up violently pushing the chair back with such force that it fell over with a crash. In a flash the book next to Ron soared into her arms and she slammed it down with a deafening bang on the table.

The whole common room was silent and staring their direction, but Kristine didn't care.

"What the fuck is your problem?" she screamed at Ron.

He stood up angrily and met her gaze.

"You. You're my fucking problem," he yelled back at her.

She picked up an inkbottle and threw it at his head. He dodged and it smashed against the wall behind him.

"Well tell me what it is I'm meant to have done instead of ignoring me like an immature six year old!" she shouted.

"You really want me to broadcast it across the common room Kriss, because push me further and I swear I will!" he shouted.

"What are you talking about?" she shrieked, "You know what fine, if that's what it takes. You and me, outside, right now!"

"Fine!" he shouted storming out of the common room Kristine right behind him, slamming the portrait shut behind them.

Now in the empty corridor he turned to face her.

"Go on then?" she said, "Tell me what I've done?"

"You know perfectly well," he accused.

Kristine's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I haven't got the faintest bloody clue what you're talking about!" she cried out.

"You and Malfoy," he shouted back at her.

Kristine paled. He knew. How could he know?

"How do you...?" she stammered.

Most of the anger had left Ron now that he had said what he had been keeping inside since the beginning of term.

"I saw you," he spat, "I had detention on the Second Floor corridor and I saw you and him, together. How could you Kriss? It's Malfoy!"

Kristine leaned against the wall and slid down to her knees. All the adrenaline from her anger, all her strength had drained away.

Ron was pacing around in a circle.

"Ron," Kristine said, her voice shaking, "Please, you don't understand. He's not like that, really he's not. Oh god, Ron. I'm so sorry you had to find out. No one was meant to find out."

"Ashamed of him are you. Don't blame you, I would be," Ron drawled.

"I am not ashamed! I love him!" she said.

Ron stopped pacing and looked at her, disgust on his face.

"You love him? How can you love that...that..." words failed him.

Kristine was white as a sheet, crouched on the floor, frightened tears on her cheeks.

He crouched down in front of her. All his anger had Disapparated.

"Kristine, why him?" he said.

She looked up at him.

"I love him," she repeated, "It's not something I can help."

"Have you tried," he joked, sounding more like the Ron she knew.

"I don't want to," she said, "Are you going to tell anyone?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Not if you don't want me to, but I really wish you'd think about what you're doing. He can't be trusted."

"You don't know him Ron, really, you don't," she said sadly.

"I hope you're right," he said, "I'm sorry for being such a jerk. Can you forgive me?"

Kristine forced a small smile.

"Of course I can, and I'm sorry for lying to you, but I had to. You do understand that right?"

He nodded.

"Come on," he said, holding out his hand to her, which she took and allowed him to pull her to her feet and into a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Me too," he said, "Let's go back in. Harry and Hermione are probably pulling their hair out with worry. You're really quite violent you know, have you considered anger management."

She punched him on the shoulder and laughed, and they headed back into the common room as friends.