Title: Sanctuary (6/?)
Author: Amethyst
Author E-mail: AmethystJackson@hotmail.com
Category: Drama
Sub-Category: Romance
Keywords: Draco Ginny Voldemort Dumbledore sanctuary
Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes, sanctuary can be found where one least expects it - the only thing keeping it out of reach is pride.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: I am so very sorry that this chapter has taken over a month. It was supposed to be posted here two weeks ago, but RL got in the way and I totally forgot. I hope you can forgive me, and if you want to see chapters right when I finish them, you can join my Yahoo! Group, SpellbookFics, which is located at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SpellbookFics/ (and if the link doesn't work here, it's also linked in my profile).
~
Witch Weekly
Volume 967, No. 1
Week of April 4, 2004
We'd like to take this opportunity to let the public know that Witch Weekly desperately needs writers. It doesn't matter what ship or genre you write, as long as you can post something around once a month. If you're interested or have questions, please e-mail our highly stressed editor, Katie, at insufferable_know_it_all@hotmail.com. We new return you to your regularly scheduled fic.
Sanctuary VI
By Amethyst
Draco didn't see Ginny again until they were at Hogsmeade Station, boarding the Hogwarts Express. He knew that she saw him, because she met his eyes and looked away again before she smiled. Draco wanted to smile back, but he still wasn't quite sure how, so he instead pretended he hadn't noticed her at all. That was the way it was supposed to be, after all.
He got on the train with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, who wanted to spend the journey home discussing the possibilities of joining forces with the Dark Lord, now that they'd finished schooling.
"I know that I'll be asked to join," Pansy said to them smugly, a sadistic smile forming on her face. "I'd mastered all of the Unforgivables a year ago. I can't wait to start getting rid of the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers."
Draco fought the urge to show his disgust. He tried to appear agreeing without actually doing so.
"You'll be asked, of course, Draco," Pansy continued. "Your father's played such a large part in the Dark Lord's work."
He made a noncommittal, grunting sort of noise, and that was enough encouragement to keep her talking.
"Do you suppose we could work together, Draco?" she said, and he could see the idea she'd formed in her head clearly. "We could be the next Lestranges."
He couldn't help himself. He raised a single, sardonic eyebrow at her and said, "No, I'm afraid that wouldn't be possible. If I were to work with someone, they'd have to have at least a touch of class."
Pansy narrowed her eyes. "You're saying I don't have class?"
"No, Pansy," he said, saying this as though he thought her very stupid, "I'm saying you're completely trashy, not to mention sick, sadistic, and disgusting."
Her eyebrows shot up comically before she glared at him and put on an expression that clearly said, "I'm going to kill you." Draco did as he was wont to do in situations like these. He smirked. Crabbe and Goyle were fidgeting next to them, unsure who they were supposed to menacingly crack their knuckles at this time.
"You're a bastard, Draco, and I hope you remember that when there's not a single person in the world that would piss on you if you were on fire."
Draco laughed dryly at this. "What makes you think that that isn't already the case, Pansy?" He rose and turned for the door. "I'm going to escape the idiocy now," he said, looking back at them.
He then found himself outside the compartment with no real idea where he meant to go. Shrugging to himself, he headed forward. There had to be something better than what he'd left behind, no matter where he went from there.
~
When he got off at the station, it didn't take him long to spot Tonks. It really did look as though his mother was waiting there for him. She'd even copied the crooked pinky fingers and the faint lines around her mouth. The only giveaway was the gold band on her finger, but only Draco and his father would ever know that his mother hated gold. It was virtually perfect.
"Wotcher, Drake," she murmured to him quietly when he was close enough to her to avoid being overhead. This was a much more obvious sign of her identity, which he nodded at in acknowledgment. The crowd continued to swarm around them, completely oblivious.
She produced a rather large button from her pocket - a portkey. This, too, was flawless - they'd always taken portkeys to get from the station to the gates of Malfoy Manor. She held it out to him, and he grasped it between his thumb and first two fingers. He hoped he wouldn't lose hold of it during the trip. It would come out of his fingers easily. Rather silly, he thought, to share a button as a portkey.
"It goes off in a few seconds," she told him. "Grab your trunk."
He did so, struggling somewhat to keep hold of both objects at once, and then he felt the familiar but still rather sickening tug of the portkey, pulling them away from the busy platform - to where, he had no idea.
As it turned out, they were destined for a very shabby street in London, in front of some very ugly, run-down houses. He noticed with a frown that there was no #12. This seemed very odd.
Draco turned to Tonks and raised a very skeptical eyebrow. "This is it?"
"Of course," she said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. "Read this," she said, handing it to him. He straightened it out and read - "Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix are located at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."
He looked up to remark that this was impossible, because there was no Number Twelve...but as it turned out, there was.
Tonks snatched the paper from his hands and promptly burned it with a quick, "Incendio."
"They use the Secret-Keeper spell, don't they?" Draco questioned. He'd heard about it, from his father, in connection with the Potters - it seemed like a glaringly obvious choice for Order protection, now that he thought about it.
Tonks nodded. "Dumbledore keeps it - he sent that. C'mon, let's get inside before we're overheard."
Once inside, Draco found that it wasn't at all what he'd expected. In fact, the main hall looked quite a bit like a particular part of Malfoy Manor.
"Just whose house is this?" Draco asked.
"Well, Harry's, technically," she told him. "It used to belong to Sirius Black, and the Black family before him. Your mother was related to them. ...I am, too, as a point of fact..."
Both of Draco's eyebrows shot up at that. "So we're related?"
"Ironic, isn't it? 'Ere, let me look like myself again." He watched as her nose became slightly longer, the lines on her face smoothed away, her eyes changed colour, and her hair turned into a spiky, neon version of the rainbow. She grinned. "That's better. Anyway, Sirius died two years ago, on Order work, and since he was Harry's godfather, the house went to Harry."
Most of this wasn't new to Draco. He'd known that Sirius was Harry's godfather and that he hadn't been the one to betray to Potters from conversations he'd overheard at the Manor, but he hadn't known that the man had died - nor that he would actually be spending the summer on Harry Potter's property. That could possibly provide a slight hitch in his plans. He wasn't expecting Harry to throw him right out, but it was a possibility.
"Well, let's go upstairs - I'll show you where your room'll be." She babbled on as she led him up the stairs. "The only other one here right now is Remus - Lupin, you'll remember him, of course. The Weasleys will be here tomorrow - or at least some of them will. Molly, Arthur, Ron, and Ginny at least. Harry and Hermione will be here sometime this week. Hermione's decided to move in, and Harry's gone with her to help her pack up all her things. There will be others, always going in and out, but that's all that live here. Here we are - hope it suits you."
They'd stopped beside a door on the second floor, which opened to a small, sparsely furnished bedroom. There was an average-sized bed within, and a nightstand and dresser. It certainly wasn't what he was accustomed to.
"I'm going to go and change now," she told him. "Your mother's robes are quite frumpy, if you ask me. Remus is downstairs getting dinner together. Head down once you've settled in."
With that, he was alone in his new world, wondering not for the first time what on earth he was doing there.
~
Draco went downstairs later and found the kitchen after several minutes of searching the lower level. Lupin looked up from his place at the table when he walked in, unsmiling. The man definitely looked older than Draco remembered, though just as thin. Evidently, he hadn't fared very well since his time at Hogwarts.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said to him somewhat coolly, and Draco had a horrible moment of clarity that dashed all of his delusions of suddenly fitting in within the house. To them, he would still be 'Malfoy', and that meant everything.
"Hello," he said awkwardly. He felt as though he were thirteen again.
"Albus tells us that you intend to join the Order." His tone didn't indicate appreciation.
"Yes."
"Albus trusts you, and we've all taken that into account - but he's been fooled before. Can you give us a good reason to trust you?"
He certainly hadn't expected such an abrupt confrontation - but then again, Lupin had been a Gryffindor. They weren't much for tact.
"I can try, but I don't suppose it will work very well."
"Well, give it your best." There was a trace of humor in this statement, and it eased Draco slightly.
"I guess...well, it's like this. If your parents work for the Dark Lord, it's safe to assume that you'll be asked to work for him, too, unless you're a great useless idiot. And since most of the Death Eaters are Purebloods, they're all about family pride - and when you're raised to be loyal to your family above all else, you're not very likely to turn on the Dark Lord, because that would mean turning on your family. So I would have been asked to join the Dark Lord, if I'd gone home. And I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Because...well, don't you know the kinds of things Death Eaters have to do, and the kinds of things the Dark Lord does to the Death Eaters? It's bloody horrible."
"And I take it you want no part of that?" Lupin said, seeming amused.
"It's not exactly fun, you know. The killing and the torturing. The Unforgivables aren't unpleasant to the victims exclusively. Have you ever used one?"
"No, I can't say that I have," Lupin replied darkly.
Draco shrugged. "Then you can't possibly understand."
"Then you've performed the Unforgivable Curses?"
He nodded, thinking that this inquiry wasn't going as well as he would have liked. "Yes...I didn't really have much choice about it."
"And you honestly want to fight Voldemort?"
Draco winced slightly. "Er... Well...I guess. I mean...what other choice do I have?"
Lupin was about to reply when a timer went off from the general vicinity of the stove.
"Ah - dinner's ready," Lupin said. "We'll continue this conversation later. Go call Tonks down while I get this out."
~
They ate, and afterward, the conversation continued, as promised. This time, he was seated across from Lupin at the table, with Tonks to his left, listening in.
"This is really my only option," Draco was saying, feeling very much as though he were on trial. "I don't want to join You-Know-Who, and if I refuse them, they'll torture me and eventually kill me...so my only choice is to hide, and help any way I can."
"I see," said Lupin with a frown. "I'm afraid your story gives us no reason to think you're not a spy, but it wouldn't be right to throw you out without giving you a fair chance."
"I hope you didn't talk to your students like that when you were at Hogwarts, Loopy," Tonks broke in. "Throwing him out - we can't throw him out at all. What if his story's true? He'd have nowhere to hide. It's not as though the Ministry would bother protecting him. They'd just hand him right back over to his mother - and where would that get him?"
"I never meant to throw him out, Tonks," Lupin said with a patient smile. "But there's nothing more to say as of now. If he's to prove himself, it will require time." He turned to Draco, "And I'm sure you'll understand that the Order will also require caution - we can't let you in on matters until we're more sure of you."
Draco nodded, having expected this.
"Well," Tonks said, breaking the awkward silence that had formed, "I'm hitting the sack. Ministry's worked me to the bone lately. G'night."
Draco found himself alone again with his former Professor. He felt as though he had to do something - anything - to clear the air.
"I'm sorry I was such an arse third year," he said abruptly, wishing afterward that he'd been more tactful. "I - well - I didn't really know any better."
Lupin nodded. "You can't be blamed for the way you were raised, Draco. It's what you do to remedy it now that you do know better that counts - but then, you'll have learned that by now."
There was another brief, awkward silence before Lupin spoke again. "Perhaps you should get to bed now. Tomorrow could be a trying day for you."
Draco nodded and left the kitchen, feeling somewhat lost. Tomorrow would be trying - and how did he intend to handle it? The only Weasley that wouldn't be surprised to see him was Ginny; how was he going to explain himself to the others? What on earth could he say? It had been all well and good to scheme beforehand to convince them one by one - but he hadn't counted on the actual convincing being the hard part. After his time spent with Lupin, he realized he simply couldn't talk his way into this.
Draco entered his new room, lying on the bed without undressing. He would have to focus on his allies. Ginny's faith in him was nearly unwavering, he hoped, and Tonks seemed to favor him. Lupin didn't seem entirely convinced yet, but perhaps the man would be on his side eventually.
He sighed at the ceiling. With Ginny, perhaps, he would make it through, provided that Ron didn't kill him upon sight.
~
Draco woke to the sound of voices in the front hall. Familiar voices.
Feeling the gloomy, unwashed mood that came from sleeping in one's clothes, he quickly got up and changed into a white shirt and trousers - the closest thing to Muggle clothing that he had. He hoped he wouldn't find the others in robes.
He paused at his door. Should he go now and greet them, or wait for them to stumble upon him? He sighed and went out. Best to get it over with as soon as possible.
They were all gathered in the front hall, Tonks and Lupin greeting the four Weasleys that had just arrived. Ginny spotted him coming down the stairs first and offered him a smile. He didn't return it, but nodded, unsure how to convey that he took strength from it - and not sure that he wanted to show her that much.
Ron was next to see him, and his reaction was a bit more extreme. First his eyes widened, then narrowed before he exclaimed, "What the hell is he doing here?"
Mrs. Weasley barely had time to scold Ron for his language before she and Mr. Weasley fell into silent shock.
"You're all being silly," Ginny said amongst dead silence, looking almost amused. "Dumbledore wouldn't have sent him here if he didn't think he was all right."
Ron must have gotten whiplash, turning as fast as he did to Ginny. "Are you nutters, Gin? He's a Malfoy!"
Draco cleared his throat. "A Malfoy who's standing right here," he said. "And she's not nutters."
"Let's all go into the kitchen, shall we?" Lupin intervened. "This will require some explanation."
"You think?" Ron said sarcastically as they all filed into the kitchen, Ginny falling behind to give Draco a reassuring pat on the arm before they went in.
To Be Continued