Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MURDEROUS MONDAY

Drake approached the classroom with ever-increasing dread. He was hyperaware of his father's hand on his shoulder, guiding his direction and ensuring there was no escape.

Angel was skipping ahead of him, happy to be returning to the room he'd secretly dubbed the torture chamber. As she entered the classroom, Drake could hear her almost sing her cheery morning greeting.

He stalled at the threshold. His stomach clenched and his mouth felt dry.

"Keep moving," Draco hissed.

A little squeak escaped his throat, as his foot moved forward, seemingly of its own volition. His eyes scanned the room quickly before dropping to the floor. Angel was hugging Miss Sheehan - her betrayal stung.

"Good morning, Miss Sheehan," Draco intoned deeply.

"Mr. Malfoy, this is a surprise," the tutor expressed as she straightened up.

"I wanted to personally assure you that Drake has been thoroughly dealt with after Friday's incident and make certain that today got off to a positive start."

"Thank you. Your support is much appreciated."

"Drake, I believe you have something to say," Draco prodded.

Drake swallowed hard. His throat was so dry that he was sure he'd be unable to do anything more than whisper. The pressure increased on his shoulder, telling him that his father was growing impatient. "I'm sorry."

"What else?" Draco prompted.

"It won't happen again," Drake whispered.

"Thank you, Drake. Your apology is accepted." Miss Sheehan smiled at him. "I hope we can move forward from here as friends."

Drake nodded reluctantly. If she was really his friend she'd let him play instead of forcing him to do boring work.

"I also had him complete the work he missed on Friday." Draco offered the woman the parchments.

"I appreciate that, thank you," Miss Sheehan said as she accepted the work. "Did you have any trouble, Drake?"

"No," Drake answered with a hint of arrogance.

"That's wonderful," Miss Sheehan replied.

"Well, I'll let you start your day," Draco announced.

"Aren't you staying, Daddy?" Angel asked disappointedly.

"I have to go to work, princess, but I'll see you this evening," Draco promised.

Angel pouted. "Okay," she whispered.

Draco gathered his daughter in his arms and hugged her before kissing the top of her head. "You have a good day."

"You have a good day too, Daddy," Angel responded.

The moment his sister stepped away from their father Drake could feel his father's eyes burning into him. He couldn't help but look up.

"Drake?" Draco beckoned him into his arms for a hug. "I want you to make an extra special effort to be good today," he whispered.

"Yes, Daddy." Drake allowed his head to drop onto his father's broad shoulder. It was nice in Daddy's arms - warm and safe.

"We'll talk all about your day tonight," Draco avowed.

It was a little chilly when Daddy let him go, and Drake felt inexplicably sad when he watched his father disappear through the door after giving Miss Sheehan one last nod.

"Let's take our seats, children," Miss Sheehan suggested in a light tone. "We have much to catch up on today."

"Can we do writing first?" Angel asked enthusiastically.

"Absolutely," Miss Sheehan agreed. "Why don't you get some parchment out and you can write about what you did this weekend?"

"We did lots," Angel informed her tutor with wide, excited eyes.

"Wonderful! You'll have lots to write about then," Miss Sheehan replied happily. "I'm looking forward to reading all you did this weekend too, Drake."

"Did nothing," Drake responded sullenly.

"How did you manage that when Angel did so much?"

"Wasn't allowed," Drake answered insolently.

"Well, you can write about what you did while Angel was so busy," Miss Sheehan replied lightly. "I'll have two different stories to read."

Drake stared at the surface of his desk for a few moments before moving his hands to extract a sheet of parchment from the drawer. He didn't want to tell her what he did this weekend, not when there were better things to do, like go outside and play. His eyes wandered across to his sister, who was waiting eagerly for Miss Sheehan's attention, so she could begin writing what Angel would copy. With nothing else to occupy his hands, Drake reached absently for his quill, letting it drop point down onto the parchment again and again.

Blooms of ink spread across the parchment. It intrigued him how a single drop of ink could grow so big. All the blobs were just about perfectly round as the quality parchment was smooth and had no faults.

Drake glanced slyly to his left. Angel was telling Miss Sheehan about her weekend in a rather animated fashion, and the tutor was absorbed in writing everything down. Neither was paying the least bit of attention to him.

Curious as to what would happen if more ink were allowed to flow, Drake pressed down on the quill hard. He moved the tip around just a little, altering the angle and he was delighted when a flood of black fluid burst from the quill. The parchment absorbed some of the ink, but there were puddles left in some places. He began to push the tip of his quill through the puddles, moving the excess ink to less inhabited areas of the page. Before long the entire page was black and the excess had started to dribble onto the desk.

Panic rippled through him. If he didn't clean this up he'd get in trouble for sure. For a moment he couldn't think, and then a solution came to him. Drake shot a quick glance to his left - Miss Sheehan was still oblivious to his activities. He very carefully opened his desk drawer and extracted several sheets of parchment. As the sheets landed on the desk they began to soak up the errant ink. Relieved now, Drake leaned forward to watch the fascinating patterns being designed on the parchment. The desk drawer closed with a bang and he froze, as the sound seemed to reverberate around the quiet classroom.

"Drake!" Miss Sheehan shrieked. "Oh my goodness!"

The tutor appeared flustered for a moment, and then she sprang into action.

"Up! Stand up and move away from the desk before you get ink on yourself." Miss Sheehan's hands were motioning wildly. "You too, Angel. Go and stand near my desk while I take care of this."

With wide, horrified eyes Drake moved to join Angel, who had almost run away for fear of getting dirty. He was going to be in so much trouble now.

A piercing scream broke through his miserable thoughts and his eyes went immediately to his twin. Angel was pointing at him with unveiled horror. Drake looked down and suddenly felt ill. There was a large streak of ink across his belly.

"Angel, calm down," Miss Sheehan pleaded. "Tell me what the problem is."

The little strawberry blonde opened and closed her mouth several times, but all that was released were unintelligible whimpers.

Miss Sheehan's eyes followed Angel's hand, which was still pointing accusingly at Drake. She took in the little boy's pale face and wide, horrified eyes. "Drake, don't move, honey. We're going to get you cleaned up and see if the house elves can get that ink out of your clothes."

Drake nodded weakly. He felt like he was going to lose his breakfast at any given moment and he couldn't draw a full breath.

"Can one of you summon a house elf?" Miss Sheehan asked. "They'll come quicker if you-"

"Millie," Drake managed softly. "I need you."

"Little Master did-" The aging house elf stopped when she saw the mess in the room. "Millie will fix mess right away. Tutor will stand back and let Millie clean."

Clare Sheehan stepped out of the way quickly, obviously relieved to not have to deal with the mess.

Millie waved her hand in the general direction of Drake's desk, and the ink began to vanish. She muttered to herself about her poor little Master while she was cleaning. Before long the only evidence that there had been an incident was the state of Drake's clothes.

"Thank you, Millie," Miss Sheehan expressed gratefully.

"Millie will take Little Master Drake to change his clothes," the house elf announced.

"I-err-" Drake stammered.

"Come, come," Millie insisted. "Little Master needs to get clean."

Drake was powerless as Millie ushered him out of the classroom. She'd towed him several meters down the corridor before his sense of self preservation kicked in and he stopped dead.

"Something is wrong-"

"If Mummy or Daddy sees me-"

Millie silenced her young master with a pat on his arm. "Master Drake will wait in the bathroom, and Millie will bring clean clothes."

Drake nodded and managed a small smile for the servant. There was a chance that he might avoid getting into trouble. He had Millie's help, so all he had to worry about was Miss Sheehan. Perhaps she wouldn't say anything? Drake could hope at least.

He'd only been in the bathroom a few minutes when Millie appeared by his side with a neat pile of clothes.

"Little Master change now and Millie will take care of dirty clothes."

"Thanks," Drake uttered.

He looked at the small pile of clothes Millie had brought. They were very similar to the clothes he had on and she had even thought to include clean underwear. He removed his soiled clothing and was about to reach for the clean pile when Millie suddenly seized his hand.

"Little Master must wash his hands first."

For the first time Drake consciously looked at his hands - they were smudged with black. The water in the sink was flowing before he decided that Millie was right and she was waiting with a bar of soap.

It seemed like he'd had his hands under the water forever and still the water running off was a dirty gray color.

"Millie, it's still-"

"Little Master must keep washing." Millie inspected his hands. "It will come off."

Drake turned back to his task. Miserable didn't cover how he was feeling at the moment. If he didn't get his hands clean it wouldn't matter if Millie took care of his clothes or if Miss Sheehan didn't say anything, his father would know something had happened. A small pop behind him pulled Drake from his gloomy thoughts.

"Why is Ippy here?" Millie asked.

Drake frowned as he turned around. He'd heard the caution in Millie's tone, and he knew if there was a house elf in the house who would tell tales it was Ippy, who remained faithful to his grandfather.

"Ippy has a delivery for Master Drake," the servant announced.

"Millie will take it." Millie's gnarled hands seized the box Ippy was holding.

Ippy tried to pull the box away from the other servant. "It is for Master Drake, not Millie."

"Little Master Drake is washing his hands," Millie said sternly.

"My instructions-" Ippy started.

"Little Master Drake needs to tell Ippy what to do," Millie cut in.

"Give it to Millie," Drake ordered. He glanced at Millie to see if that's what had been expected. She was looking at him expectantly and moving her head in Ippy's direction. Drake shook his head just a little to let Millie know that he didn't understand.

"Ippy needs to return to his duties," Millie supplied in a loud whisper.

"Oh," Drake uttered. He turned to his grandfather's servant and composed himself before opening his mouth. "Return to your duties," he delivered in an almost perfect impression of Lucius.

Ippy sniffed, bowed low and then Disapparated.

"Little Master needs to keep washing," Millie urged.

"What's in the box?" Drake asked curiously.

"Millie does not know."

"Who's it from?"

Millie tipped the box over, examining every side of it. "It does not say. Little Master should keep washing his hands."

Drake glanced at his hands. They were still stained. "Can't you do something, Millie?"

The house elf shook her head gravely. "Millie is not allowed to use magic on wizards."

"Please, Millie?" Drake begged. "I know you can do it, and I won't tell anyone."

Millie muttered to herself for a few moments before seemingly coming to a decision. "Little Master will hold his hands out and he will promise Millie never to tell anyone."

Drake held his hands out eagerly. "I promise."

The house elf held one of her hands over Drake's. A warm tingly sensation flowed through his hands as they were bathed in a soft glow.

"Show Millie again," the servant said as she turned Drake's hands over in hers. "They is clean now."

"Thanks, Millie," Drake exclaimed as he held his hands up. "I want to see what's in my box."

"Little Master should put some clothes on first," Millie advised.

"But I-"

"Millie will hold Little Master Drake's box while he puts his clothes on," Millie said in a firm tone that brokered no argument.

Drake pouted unhappily, but complied with the instruction. His eyes kept flicking to the box Millie was holding. He hadn't really been that interested when Ippy appeared with the parcel, but now his curiosity was getting the better of him and he needed to know what was inside.

"I'm done," Drake announced as soon as his shirt slipped over his head. "I can open it now."

"Little Master needs to straighten his clothes up," Millie said.

"Later," Drake uttered as he reached for the parcel.

Millie sighed and tutted, but relinquished the box to her young master.

Without delay, Drake tore the box open. There were lots of items inside, and there was a letter right on top. He pulled this out and passed it to Millie. "Can you read it for me?"

The house elf unfolded the parchment.

"Drake,

We promised we'd send you some things to make school more entertaining, so here they are. There's just one thing: you can't tell your parents where you got this stuff.

Have fun!

Uncle Fred and Uncle George."

Drake's face lit up as his hands dove into the box. His uncles had promised to send him some things to make his lessons less boring yesterday, but he hadn't thought any more about it until now.

"Millie will take your gift to your chambers to play with after lessons," Millie said as she tried to pick the box up.

"Not yet," Drake answered, moving the box out of her reach. "I want to see what they sent."

The house elf withdrew her hands reluctantly. While Drake was examining each item with great excitement, she was muttering under her breath about Fred and George making trouble for little boys.

Drake ignored her mumbling and slipped several things into his pockets when he thought she wasn't looking. His twin uncles were his heroes. There was no way he was going to get bored with all this excitement in his possession. When his pockets were full, he closed the box and pushed it towards Millie.

"Millie will take it to Little Master's chambers now?" the servant asked.

"Make sure you hide it in the dressing room." Drake thought hard for a moment. "Put it in the corner where my broom usually sits."

Millie nodded. "Little Master needs to get back to the classroom now."

A smirk tugged at Drake's lips. "Yeah, I'm going."

"Little Master needs exercise caution or he'll find himself in trouble. Trouble Millie won't be able to help him out of," the servant muttered.

Drake frowned briefly, but the worry was short-lived. He was going to enjoy today and nothing was going to stop him. "See you at lunch, Millie."

With an extra spring in his step, Drake left the bathroom and returned to his classroom. He could hear Millie continuing her mumbled warning, but he was in no mood to listen.

When he entered the classroom, Miss Sheehan was helping Angel again, but her head came up the moment the door closed.

"Welcome back, Drake," the tutor said. "What happened before? Did your quill leak?"

"Umm-" Drake faltered for a fraction of a second. He had expected to be chastised for making such a mess. "Yes, it just went everywhere."

"Never mind," Miss Sheehan intoned kindly. "These things happen, but next time let me know right away, rather than trying to clean it up yourself."

"Okay," Drake agreed.

"Shall we start on your writing?" Miss Sheehan asked.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you have to or you won't learn how to do it for yourself."

Drake sighed dramatically and moved to his chair.

"Now… What did you get up to this weekend?" Miss Sheehan came and knelt beside his chair.

He couldn't help but shrug insolently. This was the last thing he felt like doing, especially when he had his pockets full of things from his uncles' shop. Still, he pretended to think hard, but he was really trying to remember what Uncle Fred and Uncle George had been telling him yesterday. They had given him many ideas to get out of lessons, so it was just a matter of choosing which ideas to use today - he didn't want to use his whole arsenal in one day.

"Come on, Drake," Miss Sheehan encouraged. "What about Saturday night? Didn't you go out to dinner?"

"To Uncle Ron's and Aunt Pansy's," Drake admitted.

"That's a start." Miss Sheehan wrote carefully on a piece of parchment. "What did you do while you were there?"

"Got paint all over me," Drake told her.

"Oh dear! How did you manage that?"

"He was being naughty," Angel interjected. "Daddy said-"

"Have you finished your writing, Angel?" Miss Sheehan interrupted.

"No," Angel answered.

Miss Sheehan looked at the little girl meaningfully. "I think you should finish that, don't you?"

Angel's eyes fell back to the parchment and she began to carefully copy the words Miss Sheehan had written for her.

"So, Drake, what happened when you got paint on you?"

"Uncle Charlie wrapped me in a big sheet and carried me up to Aunt Pansy's bathroom and he helped me get all the paint off. Then Daddy came in and he was covered in paint too."

"Really? Goodness that must have been some dinner party! What happened next?"

"Aunt Pansy found me some of Uncle Ron's clothes. They were really, really big. Then we had dinner in the dining room, but Daddy, Uncle Ron, Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie had to eat in the kitchen."

"What did you have for dinner?"

"I don't know, but it tasted awful." Drake screwed his nose up. "Mummy said we had to eat it, and we couldn't tell Aunt Pansy how horrible it was."

"Okay," Miss Sheehan uttered slowly as her quill traveled across the page. "What did you do after dinner?"

"Nothing." Drake shrugged. "We sat at the dining table and listened to Aunt Pansy and Mummy talk, and then we went home."

"Why don't we write something about Sunday as well then?" Miss Sheehan suggested.

Drake sighed heavily. "We went to Aunt Hermione's birthday at the Burrow. We ate lunch, and then I did schoolwork while everyone else played Quidditch."

"What sort of cake did your Aunt have?" Miss Sheehan asked.

"A normal one."

"What's a normal one?"

"Same one Grandma makes for everyone," Drake answered.

"Was is nice?"

"Grandma's cakes are always good!"

"Of course they are." Miss Sheehan smiled sweetly. "Why don't you make a start on this? If you think of anything else you'd like to add, call me over."

Drake didn't answer. He watched from under his lashes as his tutor moved away to check on Angel's progress. The words on the page were taunting him, telling him that he couldn't go outside and play. Discontent crept into his attitude and he stared at the work before him with contempt.

"Come on, Drake," Miss Sheehan encouraged. "If you spend too long on this we won't get to do some of the other things I have planned for today."

His hand reached out and picked up the quill sitting beside the blank parchment that he was supposed to fill with words. Drake slyly looked up and noticed that his tutor was busy at her desk and not paying them any attention. The quill slid silently from his hand onto the desk.

Without drawing any attention to himself, Drake carefully extracted the goodies from his pocket and stowed them in his desk drawer, with the exception of one - a wild-fire whiz bang. He turned the small cylinder over in his hand, wondering how he might ignite the fuse. The biggest problem was that he didn't have a wand, and that was how he'd seen his uncles set off the fireworks in the past.

"Drake, you are working, aren't you?" Miss Sheehan questioned.

"I-I'm just trying to think of something else to write," Drake answered.

"All right, but don't think for too long, because we have to get this finished before we move on," she advised. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"Where are you going?" Angel inquired.

"I just need to visit the bathroom," Miss Sheehan replied. "I won't be long," she called as she exited the classroom.

It took Drake about ten seconds of internal debate before he sprang from his chair and ran to Miss Sheehan's desk. The woman had left her wand sitting on her desk, and it was just what Drake needed to get his wild-fire whiz bang to come to life.

"Drake! That's Miss Sheehan's!" Angel stated as her brother's hand closed around the wand.

"I'm just borrowing it," Drake explained. "I need to practice."

"Practice what?"

Drake ignored his sister's question. "Just don't say anything."

"But she'll-"

"Please, Angel?"

The strawberry blonde sighed lightly. "All right, but if you get into trouble again-"

"I won't," Drake assured her. "Shh, here she comes."

Drake's bottom had just touched his chair when Miss Sheehan returned to the classroom. He'd carefully placed her wand on the side of his chair and quickly picked up his quill.

"You're not still thinking, are you, Drake?" Miss Sheehan asked.

"I give up," Drake replied theatrically.

"Perhaps as you're writing what you have something else might come to you?" Miss Sheehan suggested with an encouraging smile.

"Okay," Drake agreed.

He watched his teacher return to her desk. Again, she wasn't paying attention to what either of the children were doing while she shuffled through parchments, making notes here and there, and she hadn't noticed that her wand wasn't where she'd left it.

Drake carefully replaced his quill for the wand and held it to the wild-fire whiz bang. "Incendio," he whispered.

The tip of the wand glowed weakly, but it wasn't enough to light the fuse. He grumbled to himself.

"Drake!" Angel whispered. "Drake!"

His eyes slipped to his left.

"If you do that in here you'll get in trouble," Angel said in an urgent low voice.

Drake rolled his eyes and returned to the task at hand. This time he concentrated on visualizing the fuse coming to life. "Incendio."

The tip of the wand glowed a little brighter this time, and it encouraged Drake to try again straight away.

"Incendio!"

Bright light shot from the tip of the wand and the fuse suddenly began hissing as it came to life.

"Drake!" Miss Sheehan shrieked.

He didn't have time to respond to his teacher's warning as the fuse was burning rapidly towards his fingers. Without thinking, Drake opened his desk drawer and shoved the now burning wild-fire whiz bang inside along with Miss Sheehan's wand.

"What did you put in your drawer?" Miss Sheehan demanded.

"Nothing," Drake answered quickly. He cringed as a small explosion rocked his desk.

"Drake, I need to know so I can fix it," Miss Sheehan pleaded in a panicked tone.

"Nothing," Drake maintained.

"Move away from your desk," Miss Sheehan ordered. "Angel, you'd best move as well. Where is my wand?"

"Don't know," Drake responded.

The tutor turned on her small charge. "Drake, where is my wand?"

The little blond leveled a glare at his teacher. "I don't know."

"Drake, I need-" Miss Sheehan released a small scream as something inside Drake's desk made a loud bang. "Move away now! Go into the corridor."

Angel was already on her way out the door before Drake started to move. The last explosion had scared him a little and he was beginning to worry that his desk might not hold up under the stress of so many explosions.

"Drake, hurry!" Miss Sheehan urged. "Angel, do you know where my wand is?"

The little girl shook her head, but her eyes went directly to the desk that sounded like it was about to blow apart.

"Oh no," Miss Sheehan breathed more than articulated. "No!"

The children watched from the doorway as their tutor approached the desk that was now visibly jumping and rocking. Angel was shaking a little and looked quite pale. Drake, on the other hand, had a spark of excitement in his eyes.

Miss Sheehan placed her hand on the drawer handle and closed her eyes for just a moment before flinging the drawer open. She screamed in terror as the room came to life with color. A dragon shaped firework soared through the air, and began swooping at the frightened woman immediately. With every attack it shrieked, causing small explosions that sent a rainbow of colors into the air. She sank to the floor, pulling the drawer down with her. As the drawer hit the floor some of its contents bounced out of its confines, including her wand. The woman dove across the floor and grabbed for her wand, knocking an oddly shaped brown ball out of the way and sending it careening across the floor.

Engulfed by her panic, Miss Sheehan didn't pay any attention to anything else on the floor; her focus was on eliminating the fireworks. With her wand now in hand, the disheveled woman stood up and took aim. "Evanesco."

Rather than clearing the air, there were suddenly more fireworks careening around the room, swooping at her head and shrieking as they did so.

"Evanesco," Miss Sheehan screamed with her wand pointed at the largest of the firework dragons. "Evanesco."

The air was now thick with bright colors as the fireworks multiplied each time they were hit with the spell. Miss Sheehan screamed loudly as several of them swooped down on her. She ran for the doorway, almost knocking the children over as she crossed the threshold.

"How do we stop them?" Miss Sheehan demanded as the classroom door slammed closed behind her.

Drake smirked. "Don't know."

She ran her hands through her hair. "I can't do this," she muttered to herself.

"Are you all right, Miss Sheehan?" Angel inquired.

"No. No, I'm not all right, Angel," Miss Sheehan admitted angrily. "Once again your brother has managed to totally disrupt lessons."

The twins exchanged a glance. Angel's eyes were accusing, while Drake's were smug.

"I'm going to try and get the fireworks to stop moving," Miss Sheehan decided. "If we can get that to happen we might be able to remove them by hand."

The woman stepped up to the doorway, opened the door cautiously and brought her wand up. "Stupefy."

A window-rattling explosion almost deafened them when the spell hit several of the fireworks.

"It's not working!" Miss Sheehan wailed. "I don't know how to stop them! I can't do this anymore. I just can't!"

The glint of excitement in Drake's eyes was suddenly replaced with fear as his tutor sagged against the wall. The woman's hair was sticking up in every direction and her face was smudged with dirt, not that it hid how pale she looked at the moment. He hardly even registered a light pop further down the corridor.

"Mistress did send Millie," the house elf started.

"Oh, Millie, Drake set fireworks off in the classroom," Miss Sheehan explained in a hysterical pitch. "I can't get them to go away. Everything I've tried just makes it worse."

"Millie did say Little Master was going to find himself trouble again," Millie muttered to herself. "Millie will fetch Mistress. Miss Angel and Master Drake should go to the playroom."

"Yes, of course. Go to the playroom while we get this cleaned up," Miss Sheehan repeated in a shaky voice. "I'll wait here," she finished weakly.

"Millie will be right back," the servant assured her.

"Thank you," Miss Sheehan responded. "Off you go, Drake and Angel. Straight to the playroom."

Drake frowned a little, disappointed that he wasn't going to be around to watch the fireworks. He couldn't ignore the insistent pull of his sister's hand on his as she tried to escape the scene.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco looked up from the file he was perusing when a loud knock disturbed his train of thought. He was about to tell whomever it was at the door to enter when the door swung open.

"Father, what can I do for you?" Draco noted a small movement behind his father's cloak.

"It seems we are required at home," Lucius informed him seriously.

"What's happened?" Draco asked as he stood up.

"Ippy was sent to fetch us." Lucius looked to his cloak hem. "Apparently, your son has seen fit to disturb lessons yet again."

"Fuck!" Draco cursed through his teeth. "What has he done this time?"

"He set off fireworks in the classroom, allegedly," Lucius answered.

"Fireworks?" Draco felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. How his son could do such a thing after all they'd been through since Friday evening was beyond him.

"Your mother thought it pertinent that we attend the scene immediately rather than wait until this afternoon," Lucius continued.

"Of course," Draco uttered. "You don't have to-"

"On the contrary," Lucius interrupted. "Ippy tells me there is an issue with containing the fireworks."

Draco cursed under his breath. "Fine. Let's go, shall we?"

There wasn't much time to curse or berate himself for not dealing with Drake properly before they arrived in the foyer of Malfoy Manor. While everything appeared to be quite normal on their arrival it only took seconds for the sound of an explosion to reach their ears. Without waiting to see what his father was doing, Draco took off at a sprint for the classroom.

Chaotic was the best description of the scene that greeted him. There were at least half a dozen house elves in the room, along with Ginny, his mother and Miss Sheehan, who seemed to be doing nothing more than shrieking unintelligibly at everyone. As he assessed the situation, he saw a house elf try to use magic against a huge firework dragon and watched as that firework dragon exploded into ten dragons. Terror gripped him as the new firework dragons started to swoop the occupants of the room.

"Get out! Everyone, get out!" Draco bellowed above the roar of the fireworks. "Stop using magic! Ginny, get out!"

Fear curled and hissed in his stomach as he watched a malevolent firework dragon swoop down on his pregnant wife. Even as he raced across the room he watched her hand come up and collide with the burning fireworks. Her cry of pain tore through him like a knife.

"Ginny, love," Draco crooned when he reached her. "Watch your hand. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No. It's just my hand." She grimaced as her skin began to blister.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Draco said as he scooped her into his arms.

It was a round about trip back to the door as he dodged fireworks all the way, but they made it out without further incident. Just as he placed Ginny on her feet his father came rushing down the corridor.

"Father, make sure she stays with you," Draco instructed as he turned to enter the classroom again.

From just inside the doorway, he spied the other two women. His mother was behind the large teacher's desk at the head of the room and the tutor was cowering under Angel's desk. Draco sprinted to his daughter's desk and grabbed the tutor by the arm.

"Come on," Draco ordered. "Get out!"

When he was sure she was moving in the right direction, Draco turned in the direction of his mother. He couldn't see her from this angle, so he could do nothing more than hope she was still behind the desk. As he reached the desk a firework dragon shrieked and swooped down on him. Draco leapt onto the desk and slid across, sending papers and quills everywhere. His landing was less than graceful, and his backside screamed in pain when it landed on a rather pointy quill tip.

"Draco!" Narcissa cried.

He was on his feet instantly, looking around in a panic for his mother instantly. She was holed up in the chair recess, thankfully. "Let's get out of here," Draco said simply as he picked his mother up. "Hold on, Mother."

The door seemed a mile away with his mother in his arms and fireworks intent on scalping him at every opportunity. It didn't help that his mother was screaming right into his ear every time a firework dragon got within ten feet of them. If his nerves survived this mess, he doubted his hearing would.

"Narcissa! Are you all right? Are you injured?" Lucius took his wife from his son's arms and set her on her feet.

"I'm fine," Narcissa assured him. "Just a little shaken."

"What on earth were you doing in there?" Lucius asked, concern tainting his tone.

"Ginevra went in and-"

"Ginny, where are the twins?" Draco interrupted.

"They're in the playroom," Ginny responded.

"Why were you in there then?" Draco asked.

"I was trying to stop the fireworks," Ginny admitted.

"You-" Draco hands ran through his hair in frustration. "You could have been hurt!"

"I had to-"

"What am I saying? You were hurt!" Draco cut her off. "Mother, can you summon Healer Wilson and Ellen. She needs to-"

"Draco, I don't need Ellen," Ginny interrupted.

"Mother, please?" Draco said firmly.

"Of course, darling," Narcissa replied.

Draco held Ginny's shoulders until his mother had disappeared down the corridor to make the Floo calls he'd requested. "You're going to get checked out whether you want to or not."

"Fine," Ginny conceded.

"I don't understand why you went in there," Draco growled lightly as he pulled Ginny to his chest. "The children were already out."

"Perhaps this could wait until after this situation is under control," Lucius suggested.

"Yes, of course," Draco replied. "I want you to join Mother, and perhaps you could take Miss Sheehan with you," he said to Ginny.

"Be careful," Ginny pleaded.

"We will," Draco assured her. "Now go! I'm not doing anything until you're away from here."

"All right, but remember that magic doesn't work on them," Ginny said.

"We'll figure something out," Draco promised.

"Magic doesn't work?" Lucius questioned.

"No," Ginny answered. "Stunning them makes them explode violently and any attempt at vanishing them makes them multiply by ten at a time."

Lucius cursed brusquely. "My apologies, Ginevra," he intoned when he had finished.

"Don't worry about it," Ginny responded. "I was saying that quite a bit when I was in there."

"Are we done here?" Draco asked impatiently. "Ginny, go!"

"All right, I'm going," Ginny answered. "Clare, why don't you come with me?"

The tutor nodded weakly from her position against the wall.

"Have Wilson check Miss Sheehan for injuries as well," Draco whispered to his wife, after noticing for the first time how pale and shaken the tutor appeared.

"Come on, Clare," Ginny coaxed. "I think we could both do with a cup of tea."

When the women had left the corridor Draco expelled a breath he hadn't quite realized he was holding.

"Are all the servants out of there?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, they listened to me when I gave the order," Draco replied. "Unlike the women."

"Where would Drake have-"

"I don't know," Draco snapped. "But I've seen these fireworks before- at Hogwarts, and I know who developed them."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, but it'll help you understand what we're dealing with," Draco admitted.

"Well?"

"Fred and George Weasley made these," Draco said flatly.

"Of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"That's them." Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Which means they're probably impossible to stop."

Lucius wandered to the door and cracked it open. The devastation in the room made his blood boil, but he would allow his anger to vent later. For now they had a problem to solve before anyone else was injured. "Perhaps we could open the windows?"

"Do you want to go in there?" Draco asked. "Those fireworks are dangerous."

Both men stared into the room for a few minutes.

"What if we blasted the windows out from here?" Draco suggested.

"The idea has merit," Lucius admitted.

"We can easily repair the windows later," Draco continued.

"That's if the fireworks take the exit," Lucius pointed out.

"I don't think there are any other options at this point," Draco said. "I remember the professors at Hogwarts having a devil of time controlling them. They were running riot across the grounds all night."

"Very well," Lucius uttered. "We'll try to evacuate them through the windows."

"Right," Draco said as he drew his wand and pointed it in the direction of the windows on the opposite wall.

"Wait!" Lucius put his hand on his son's wand and pushed it down. "What will happen if they're hit with the magic?"

"I have no idea."

"Best we be prepared for the worst then," Lucius muttered. "You take care of the windows, and I'll watch for any change in the fireworks."

Draco nodded and took aim again. "Confringo."

The first blasting curse passed between the fireworks and shattered one of the windows.

"Well done," Lucius muttered.

"Confringo," Draco incanted for a second time.

This time he wasn't so lucky. The curse collided with several fireworks on its way to the window, and as expected the effect was unfavorable. It was impossible to count how many fireworks were now in the room, because the blasting curse had literally caused the fireworks to explode into hundreds of separate, very live, fireworks. Now there was little chance of repeating his first effort and getting a clear shot at the remaining windows.

"Do we continue?" Draco inquired.

"I feel we have little choice at this juncture," Lucius responded. "To leave them in here may endanger the entire house."

Draco took a deep breath and then took careful aim. He waited a few moments, hoping to time the incantation perfectly, before sending the curse into the room again. Again, it collided with several fireworks before passing through his original target.

"Just get all the windows open quickly, Draco," Lucius instructed when Draco hesitated.

"Fine," Draco ground out. He sent the curse into the room another three times, each time hitting several fireworks and creating hundreds more.

They watched from the doorway as some of the fireworks began to fly out of the broken windows. It was a slow process, and there was no reason to hope that it would clear the room entirely, but it was the best they could do for now.

"Do we know if they were all contained in here?" Lucius asked curiously.

"I don't know," Draco replied. "I didn't think to ask."

"Ippy!" Lucius summoned.

"Master did-"

"Have the house elves search the house for fireworks," Lucius ordered. "If any are found we are to be informed immediately. No action is to be taken without our explicit consent. Understand?"

"As Master wishes." Ippy bowed low.

"Tell one of the young kitchen servants to take up a post outside the windows of the classroom and alert me if the fireworks are likely to cause any further damage to the house," Draco added.

"As Master wishes."

"Dismissed," Draco ordered, when the house elf glanced at his father for confirmation.

Draco reached into the classroom and pulled the door closed. "I need to check on Ginny."

"That burn on her hand looked quite nasty," Lucius muttered.

Without replying, Draco started down the corridor. First he would make sure the women were all right, and then he was going to interrogate his son.

"You're going to have to do something about Drake's-"

"I know," Draco snapped, effectively cutting his father short. He hoped this was all some sort of sick nightmare, but he knew it wasn't, and he knew he'd have to respond strongly after this last bout of mischief.

"Perhaps discovering where he came across the contraband would be a good start?" Lucius suggested gently.

Draco grunted impatiently.

"The servants are a wealth of information," Lucius continued. "They can't lie to you."

A derisive snort filled the air. Draco knew very well how much the servants lied, especially when protecting the youngest members of the family. His own father was unaware of all the mischief he found himself in as a youngster thanks to Millie. "They can and they do, and you know it."

Lucius sighed and shook his head. "You have not found yourself a trusted informant yet."

Draco stopped and turned to face his father. "Father, I am well aware that Ippy worships the ground you walk on, but I do not need or crave that sort of attention. I simply need them to do their jobs."

"Ah, but this is where you are misinformed. Perhaps if you had an Ippy to keep you up to date on events at home while you are not here, this incident could have been avoided before Drake had the opportunity to destroy the classroom."

"So I should have one of the servants telling tales on everyone in the house?" Draco snarled.

"It's more akin to averting disasters," Lucius corrected.

Draco shook his head and stalked down the corridor. He never did like Ippy and now he knew exactly why; the horrid creature was probably still running to his father telling tales on him. "Millie!"

"Master did summon-"

"Where might I find my wife?"

"Mistress is being with old Mistress in the northern parlor for summer," Millie answered, as she tried to keep up with her master's long strides.

"Stay with the children unless I summon you," Draco instructed.

"As Master wishes."

Before Millie disappeared. Draco had put just a little more speed into his stride. Now that he had a certain destination he just wanted to get there and make sure his wife was all right. What started as a need to see that Ginny was all right started to turn to desperation, and he was still quite a distance away.

"To hell with it," Draco uttered as he turned mid-stride and Disapparated.

He consciously arrived just outside the parlor, so he wouldn't startle any of the women inside. Voices floated out the door, along with the sound of weeping. His heart lurched. Ginny!

It took Draco a second to put the scene together when he burst through the doors. Healer Wilson was attending Ginny's hand; his mother was sitting on a love seat next to Miss Sheehan, who was weeping vociferously into her hands. Narcissa was doing her best to comfort the younger woman, but it seemed her efforts were all for naught.

"Ah, Draco, I was wondering where you were," Healer Wilson expressed.

A frown creased Draco's forehead. "Excuse me?"

"You're never far away when your lovely wife needs you," Wilson explained with a broad smile.

"Oh-" Draco shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. "How is she?"

"Mrs. Malfoy has quite a painful second degree burn."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, it's a painful burn, but it will heal nicely and, hopefully, without scarring, if she follows my instructions." Healer Wilson smiled meaningfully at Ginny.

"I'm fine, Draco," Ginny assured him. "It's just a little burn."

Draco's eyebrow climbed his forehead as his wife grimaced the moment the words were out of her mouth. "Fine are you? I beg to differ."

"It's just when-" Ginny paused to suck a breath in through her teeth as the healer wound a white bandage around her hand. "-someone is touching it."

"My apologies, Mrs. Malfoy, but we must dress it to keep it clean," Healer Wilson intoned seriously.

"It's all right," Ginny replied. "I understand."

"It's a shame that understanding doesn't come with a little pain relief," Draco muttered.

"On the contrary," Wilson announced. "I have administered a potion for pain relief, but given Mrs. Malfoy's delicate condition there are limited options in that field of potions. Your mother told me that her Mid-witch has been summoned as well."

"Yes, she has," Draco responded.

"Perhaps she might be able to suggest something a little more effective for pain relief," Wilson suggested.

Draco nodded. "I'll make a point to ask her."

"With all the advances in potions these days, she should be up to date on what her patients can safely ingest." Healer Wilson turned to his medical bag and after a little rifling he pulled out a sheet of parchment. "This is for you," he said, handing the parchment to Ginny.

"Thank you."

"Follow the instructions on this sheet, and I'll be back tomorrow evening to change your dressing," Wilson said. "Until then, you're to leave it on."

"I will," Ginny promised.

"I'll be off then," Wilson announced.

"Did you examine Miss Sheehan?" Draco asked quickly.

"Yes," Wilson answered. "She's just very shaken. I suggest a stiff brandy to help her settle down. Your mother is also in good health."

"Thank you," Draco intoned. "I'll see you out."

"No need." Wilson waved the offer away. "I know the way, and I'm sure you want to be with your wife."

Draco smiled graciously. It was true; he didn't want to leave the parlor for any reason right now, and he appreciated the healer's understanding.

As Wilson walked through the door on his way out, Lucius entered. The two men nodded politely to each other as they crossed paths before continuing on their respective routes.

"Narcissa," Lucius expressed with concern as he crossed the room.

"Oh, Lucius, I'm fine. It's Ginevra who was injured," Narcissa said.

"Mother when is Ellen coming?" Draco inquired.

"Her office said that she was currently at St. Mungo's and they'd give her the message as soon as she returned," Narcissa informed him.

"Draco, it's really not necessary for Ellen to come-" Ginny tried.

"She's coming and you're getting checked out," Draco butted in. "Besides, she'll know what pain potions you can have."

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. "It's just a little burn. There are only a couple of blisters."

"And I suppose the faces you were pulling when Wilson was bandaging it were just a put on?" Draco countered.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but closed it after a little thought.

"I thought so," Draco uttered as he crossed the room to the sidebar. "Mother, do you have any brandy here?"

"There should be a decanter to the back of the shelf," Narcissa answered.

"Here it is." Draco picked the decanter up and poured a generous amount into a tumbler.

"A little early in the day, isn't it?" Lucius questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"After the morning we've had, I think not, but despite that, it's not for me," Draco admitted. "Wilson suggested brandy to calm Miss Sheehan down."

"I see," Lucius drawled.

"Miss Sheehan." Draco offered the tumbler to the upset woman. "Mother, perhaps you could convince-"

Narcissa took the tumbler. "I'll take care of it," she promised.

"I will need to talk to you, Miss Sheehan, but I would like to do it when you've calmed down," Draco said gently.

"I-I can't-do this-anymore," Clare stammered through her tears.

Alarm bells started ringing in Draco's head. He didn't like what he heard, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that she was very upset at the moment. "We can discuss this when you're a little calmer."

The tutor shook her head furiously. "No, I can't do it."

"There's little to be gained from making rash decisions," Draco said quietly.

"Enough now," Narcissa interrupted before Clare could speak again. "Sip this slowly, Miss Sheehan, and you'll be feeling calm enough to talk properly in no time."

"It's-fine-I-can-"

"Nonsense," Narcissa cut in. "There's no hurry. Draco, why don't you check on Ginevra? Perhaps she'd like a cup of tea?"

"Of course, Mother," Draco replied, noting the loaded looked she sent him.

When he turned to face his wife again, she had a curious smile on her face. It was the last thing he expected to see given what he'd just heard come from their tutor's mouth. Draco returned her smile with a tight one of his own as he crossed the floor again.

"So sweet," Ginny whispered, as Draco sat down next to her.

Draco frowned. "What?"

"To see you do as your mummy says," Ginny teased.

"One would think, given the situation, that you might find it in yourself to be serious, Ginevra," Draco hissed irritably.

"Oooh… I think I'm in trouble," Ginny taunted quietly.

"Did you hear what she said? If I've interpreted it correctly, she wants to leave," Draco said in a low tone.

"She's upset at the moment." Ginny reached for his hand with her good hand. "Once she's calmed down she'll see things more clearly."

"I hope so," Draco muttered.

"A cup of tea would be nice," Ginny hinted.

"No problem." Draco summoned a house elf and ordered a tea tray.

"Are the fireworks out of the classroom?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Draco confessed. "I suppose I should check on that soon."

Ginny turned in the chair to face her husband. "What do you mean, you don't know? You left them in there?"

Draco smirked. "I opened the windows, so they could escape into the great outdoors."

"I don't think the windows open very wide in that room," Ginny mused aloud.

"They do now." Draco quirked his eyebrows at her.

"What did you do?"

"Well, basically we blew all the windows out, so there's just about an entire wall for them to find an escape," Draco admitted.

"Good grief," Ginny moaned.

"We'll fix them when they've evacuated," Draco said casually. "That's really the least of our worries at the moment."

Ginny sighed heavily. "What are we going to do about Drake?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Draco answered wearily. "I need to get the full story from Miss Sheehan first. I'm hoping she might be able to shed some light on where he got the fireworks from in the first place."

"She wouldn't have had them in the classroom, and even if she did, she wouldn't have allowed them to be activated in there," Ginny pointed out.

"I didn't think she was responsible for supplying them, but perhaps she saw something that might help us," Draco corrected.

"Millie might have seen something," Ginny proposed.

Draco snorted. "Millie won't give Drake up."

"Maybe one of the other house elves saw something then?"

"It's possible," Draco muttered. "Of course, he could have already had them and just brought them to the classroom."

"You took him to class this morning," Ginny reminded him.

"I didn't see anything. I'm sure he didn't have them in his pockets." Draco frowned as he thought back to first thing this morning.

"He could have already had them in his desk," Ginny suggested.

"It's possible," Draco agreed. "We'll work it out."

"Perhaps I should check on the children," Lucius suggested suddenly.

"No." Draco shook his head. "I want to collect all the information first, and then I'll deal with them."

"Surely you don't think Angelique had anything to do-"

"Father, I don't know if she had anything to do with it yet, but I want to be fully informed before I confront them, and until then I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your distance."

"Very well." Lucius sighed. "They could be quite shaken," he added lazily.

"Millie is with them," Draco growled. "She will alert us to any distress."

"When do you propose-"

"After I have spoken the Miss Sheehan, I will speak to the twins."

Lucius looked over to the love seat, where his wife sat with the distraught tutor. Irritation was written all over his expression. He turned back to his son. "We should insist-"

"Father, if you're in such a hurry, perhaps you could assist Mother in calming Miss Sheehan down?" Draco smirked.

The older wizard stared back at his son, clearly horrified by the suggestion.

"She must be crying acid tears if they're that frightening," Ginny whispered with a giggle.

"Why is it that your wife finds all this amusing?" Lucius snapped.

"Laugh or cry, Lucius," Ginny answered for Draco. "I'm choosing to laugh right now. Besides I grew up with my twin brothers doing this sort of thing all the time."

"Ridiculous," Lucius hissed under his breath.

His reaction only caused Ginny to giggle more.

"If you don't stop he's going to lose his temper," Draco whispered hurriedly.

"Fine, I'll try to control myself," Ginny returned softly.

A house elf appeared in the doorway, startling everyone in the room. "Master, we has a-"

"Ellen!" Ginny said as her Mid-witch came into view. "Come in."

"I received a rather urgent message about an accident," Ellen said, ignoring the other occupants.

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. "Draco's overreacting."

"I'll be the judge of that," Ellen stated, affording Draco a small smile.

"There was an incident with fireworks," Draco offered.

"Goodness!" Ellen's hand came to her chest. "And I suppose Ginny decided to get too close."

"She entered the room they were trapped in and earned herself a burned hand for her trouble," Draco confirmed.

"Right, let's get you checked out then," Ellen said forcefully. "Is there somewhere private-"

"Yes, we'll go upstairs," Ginny said as she got to her feet with Draco's assistance.

"You've had the burn treated?" Ellen asked, noting the white bandage.

"Yes, Healer Wilson left just a little while ago," Ginny answered as she led the woman out of the parlor.

"Mother," Draco whispered. "Could you ensure Miss Sheehan is ready to talk when we return? I think she's had long enough now."

"Of course, darling," Narcissa replied.

He followed the two women upstairs with half an ear on their conversation. His thoughts were once again consumed with the dilemma ahead of him. It was impossible to act until he had the facts from Miss Sheehan, but that was certainly going to be easier if she were calm and ready to talk about what happened. Perhaps impossible isn't quite the right term, he thought to himself as he trailed behind. I could confront Drake now and hope he tells the truth. The idea wasn't appealing. Chances were that Drake would deny everything and without some background information Draco would be in a difficult situation.

"Just lie on the bed and we'll have a look at what's going on," Ellen instructed as they reached the bedroom.

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. "It was only the burn."

"It doesn't hurt to confirm that," Ellen advised her with a patient smile.

Draco stopped just inside the room and watched the Mid-witch examine his wife. He noticed that she moved confidently and didn't mutter to herself like Wilson was prone to do from time to time.

"All right, you can sit up, Ginny," Ellen said with a smile.

"I told you I was fine," Ginny reiterated.

"You don't have any pain anywhere?" Ellen questioned.

"No, except for my hand," Ginny answered.

Ellen nodded thoughtfully. "All right, I'm happy to give you a clean bill of health for now, but if anything should start to feel odd or painful you're to contact me right away. Sometimes these things take time to manifest themselves. At the moment you've probably still got a fair amount of adrenalin flowing through your system, so that might be masking any aches or pains."

"I wish it would mask the pain in my hand," Ginny muttered.

"Wilson said you might be able to suggest a stronger potion for pain relief," Draco interrupted.

"What did he give you?" Ellen asked Ginny.

"Here." Ginny pulled a small bottle from her pocket and offered it to the woman.

"Mmm…" Ellen grimaced a little. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is as good as it's going to get."

"There's nothing stronger?" Draco questioned brusquely.

"I'm afraid not," Ellen returned gently. "We have to take the unborn child into consideration and anything stronger may affect-"

"It's all right," Ginny cut in. "I'm sure I'm tough enough to handle it for a couple of days."

"There's far worse to come," Ellen reminded her.

"I'm trying not to think about that right now," Ginny confessed.

"Worse? What could be worse than the pain she's in now?" Draco asked, mild panic tainting his tone.

"Childbirth," Ginny answered simply.

Draco frowned as the word sunk in. He had heard that childbirth was painful, but he hadn't really thought about it in depth. "Oh."

"I really have to get back to the office." Ellen gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine, but if anything else should start aching let me know right away."

"I will," Ginny promised. "Thank you for coming."

"You're welcome," Ellen answered.

"I'll walk you out," Ginny offered.

"You keep taking good care of her, Draco," Ellen said on her way out.

"I will," Draco muttered.

His thoughts had traveled to a point not too far in the future and how Ginny might cope with the pain then. Though she seemed fine at the moment, she had admitted that she was trying not to think about the birth. Did it hurt that much? He would have to do a little research to put his mind at ease, because there were so many old witches tales floating around that it was difficult to know what to believe. Oblivious to the women's conversation now, Draco trailed behind as they returned to the foyer.

Before he knew what had happened Ginny was standing in front of him with a worried expression on her face.

"Are you all right?" Ginny questioned.

"Yes, I'm fine," Draco answered. "Did Ellen leave?"

"You said goodbye and held the door for her," Ginny replied. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I must have been a million miles away," Draco admitted lightly. "I'm sure Mother and Father are eager to know that you're all right. Shall we?"

"Sure," Ginny agreed cautiously as she took her husband's arm.

As they approached the parlor doors Draco was relieved that he couldn't hear any weeping coming from within the room. With luck, he'd be able to ascertain what had happened quickly and without any further drama.

"Mr. Malfoy," Miss Sheehan said the moment Draco walked into the parlor. "I'm sorry, but I simply can't do this anymore."

"Why don't we all take a seat?" Draco offered diplomatically. "I'm sure the situation won't seem nearly as desperate as it does now after we've talked."

The tutor shook her head. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"Very well," Draco said calmly. "I would still like to discuss what happened today."

"Of course." Miss Sheehan bowed her head for a moment. "I'm sure Drake didn't have anything at the start of the day, but his attitude changed after he came back from changing his clothes."

"Why did he change his clothes?" Draco asked.

"There was an incident with his quill," Miss Sheehan answered simply.

"And you sent him to change on his own?" Draco inquired.

"No. Millie accompanied him, but I don't remember seeing her when he returned." Miss Sheehan frowned.

"And it was then that his attitude changed?" Draco prodded.

"Not right away. He told me about his weekend for a writing exercise and while he was a little reluctant, he wasn't refusing to do the work. Once I had written out what he'd told me, I left him to copy the work and went to my desk. A little while later I noticed he was dawdling, so I gave him some gentle encouragement before I left the room briefly-"

Draco's eyes opened wide as he interrupted. "What did you leave the room for?"

"I needed to use the bathroom," Miss Sheehan explained. "I was out of the room for only a few minutes."

"Go on," Draco urged.

"A short time after I returned I heard Drake say 'Incendio', and as I called his name, he put something in his desk drawer. He wouldn't tell me what it was, but I could hear explosions coming from the drawer, so I had the children move away from the desks. It was then that I noticed my wand was missing."

"Your wand?" Draco felt ill.

"Yes, I usually leave it on my desk, and I know it was there earlier," Miss Sheehan explained.

"What happened next?" Draco prompted.

"I sent the children into the corridor, and I asked Angel if she knew where my wand was."

"Did she?"

"I'm sure she did, but all she could do was look at the drawer." Miss Sheehan sighed. "I had no choice but to open the drawer."

"It didn't occur to you to seek help?" Draco questioned.

"I didn't feel I had time to seek help; the desk was moving by this point, so I felt it imperative to release whatever it was that Drake had stowed in there."

"I see."

"When I opened the drawer fireworks flew out." Miss Sheehan wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. "I found my wand when the drawer spilled onto the floor."

"It was on the floor?" There was just a hint of hope in Draco's voice.

"No, it had been in the drawer."

Draco's hope bled away.

"With my wand back I tried to get rid of the fireworks, but all I managed to do was create more. I don't know who summoned Millie, but she was suddenly there, and then everyone else came."

"Thank you," Draco intoned quietly. "I promise you, I will get to the bottom of this, and Drake will be punished accordingly."

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Malfoy, but that won't change my mind. I think it's best for all concerned if I resign immediately."

"That saddens me greatly," Draco admitted. "I wish you would reconsider."

"I'm sorry, but I gave this a great deal of thought over the weekend, and I just don't feel as though I can continue at this point," Miss Sheehan explained.

"Very well." Draco sighed. "If there's nothing I can say or do to change your mind-"

"No, I'm truly sorry," Miss Sheehan said sadly.

"Well, that leaves us with when you'd like to finish," Draco said in a businesslike manner.

"After today's drama, I don't feel I can stay any longer. I will finish immediately."

"You can't!" Ginny interrupted in a panic.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm really-"

"The children love you," Ginny continued, cutting off the woman's apology.

"I hardly think Drake would use quite that term," Miss Sheehan uttered.

"He does," Ginny stressed. "It's the work he finds tedious. His attitude has nothing to do with you personally."

"Nevertheless, I don't feel I can continue," Miss Sheehan replied calmly. "The way things are I'm not doing the twins any good. They'd be far better off with someone else."

"I don't think-"

Miss Sheehan shook her head. "Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sorry."

"Ginny, let it go," Draco instructed gently. "Miss Sheehan has obviously made up her mind and, given the incident today, I don't think we can blame her."

"Okay, okay," Ginny expressed. "We will be very sorry to see you go, and the twins will be devastated."

"We won't keep you any longer," Draco said to the tutor. "Can I offer you the assistance of a servant while you pack?"

"Thank you, but I can manage." Miss Sheehan smiled.

"Have you left anything in the classroom that you need to pack?" Draco asked hoping the answer would be no, but knowing full well he wasn't going to be that lucky.

"Yes, I have several personal items in there. I would like to take them with me today, but if it's not possible I will understand," Miss Sheehan replied.

"We'll do our best to retrieve them before you leave," Ginny promised.

Draco tried to cover the horrified expression he could feel creeping onto his face, but he was only partially successful. How could Ginny promise such a thing?

"It's all right, Mr. Malfoy, if it's not possible I can collect them at a later date," Miss Sheehan offered with a smile.

"I'll let you know if we're successful," Draco said. "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave a forwarding address as well, so I can send your wages on."

"Of course." Miss Sheehan stood up, which brought the men in the room to their feet. "Thank you for the opportunity to teach your children. I'm sure you'll find someone very capable to take over."

"Thank you," Draco intoned.

"You're a wonderful tutor," Ginny said genuinely. "I hope you find another position."

"Thank you. Please tell the children I said goodbye," Miss Sheehan replied.

"You can tell them yourself, if you'd like," Ginny offered.

"Thank you, but no. I think it'll be easier this way." Miss Sheehan turned to Narcissa. "Your support and comfort this morning was most appreciated, Mrs. Malfoy."

"You're welcome," Narcissa responded politely.

"I'll be in my quarters if you should need me, and I'll let you know when I'm leaving," Miss Sheehan said to her employers.

Draco inclined his head politely as she walked away.

Silence consumed the room to the point where Draco's ears felt like they were humming, and then he exploded. "Bloody hell!"

"Draco!" Narcissa admonished.

"My apologies, Mother," Draco ground out. "I just can't believe she quit."

"I did tell you she wasn't a suitable candidate," Lucius murmured.

Draco turned his furious eyes to meet his father's smug ones. "Thank you, Father. I'm sure we're all well aware of who you thought was a suitable candidate."

"I was merely-"

"I don't care," Draco snapped.

"Draco, it's all right," Ginny said softly. "I can teach the children-"

"We'll discuss it later," Draco interrupted. The last thing he needed was his father putting his two Knuts worth in as to who was most suitable to teach the children. "We'd better check on the classroom. If she's really leaving, then I'd rather she had all her possessions with her."

"Don't you want to talk to your son?" Lucius inquired.

"Not until I have an idea of just how much damage has been done," Draco answered. "Ginny, I think it would be better if you stayed with Mother for now."

"I'm all right," Ginny insisted.

"That may be, but we don't know what we're going to find, so I'd feel better if you'd stay here," Draco explained persuasively.

"Fine, I'll stay," Ginny agreed.

Draco leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Ginny's forehead. "We'll get this sorted out," he whispered.

He stalked through the corridors, fully aware that his father was following. While he appreciated the fact that he had some support if something should go wrong when he opened the classroom, he truly wasn't in the mood to listen to his father harp on about how he was right. Draco was relieved when he turned into the schoolroom corridor and all was silent. It boded well for the room being clear, but he didn't fully trust that it would be just on the lack of noise.

"It sounds somewhat calmer in there," Lucius commented as they stopped in front of the classroom.

"It does," Draco agreed. "Stand back, so I can open the door."

Lucius stood his ground, raising an eyebrow as if challenging his son.

"Father, I don't want anyone else being injured today."

"And you think-"

"If there are still fireworks in there- Well, I move faster than you."

"Very well," Lucius conceded, moving back about a foot.

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head as he reached for the door. His hand felt a little sweaty on the brass doorknob, so he tightened his grip before he began turning the handle in a painfully slow fashion.

"Draco," Lucius hissed impatiently.

"I don't want to startle anything that might still be lurking in there," Draco ground out.

Inch by inch Draco pushed the door open. There didn't appear to be any danger in the room, but Draco wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Well?" Lucius prodded impatiently.

"So far, so good," Draco whispered.

"Why are we standing here then?"

"I want to be sure," Draco growled lightly.

"There is such a thing as being over-cautious."

"These are vicious, vindictive fireworks. I wouldn't be surprised if they were all hiding, just waiting for their next victim to walk into the room."

Lucius snorted indignantly. "They can hardly think for themselves."

"Don't be too sure," Draco warned. "They were developed by Ginny's brothers."

"Move aside!"

Draco stumbled as his father pushed past him. The door hit the wall with a resounding bang. "Father!"

"There's nothing-"

"Duck! Behind you!"

It was as if someone had slowed time down. Draco watched with increasing horror as a lone firework dragon rose from behind the tutor's desk, let out what sounded like a triumphant shriek, and dove for his father. He was running before he realized he was even in motion. His father was reacting painfully slowly, and all Draco could do was try to get to him before the dragon did.

Lucius jerked to the side just as the dragon dove on him, causing the firework to glance off his shoulder.

"Father!" Draco's heart was hammering so hard that he feared it would burst through his chest. "Are you all right? Don't move! Your robes are smoking!"

Whether Lucius heard him or not Draco couldn't tell, because he was simply reacting to the situation. He crashed into his father's back, sending him sprawling over the twins' desks. His hands beat at the smoldering fabric on Lucius' shoulder until his father's demands to be left alone penetrated his panicked mind.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Lucius hissed as he straightened himself up.

"Have you?" Draco returned harshly. "I told you! This is exactly what I was expecting!"

"We still needed to draw the thing out," Lucius pointed out.

"I'm sure I could have come up with a safer way of doing that," Draco spat, infuriated that his father wouldn't just admit that he was wrong. "One that didn't involve your robes being set on fire."

"Where did it go?" Lucius inquired casually.

Draco looked around quickly, terror curdling in his belly and rising up his throat. "I don't know."

"You go that way, and I'll go this way," Lucius suggested calmly.

Draco circled around the room. "Anything?"

"No," Lucius answered. "You?"

"Nothing."

"The room appears to be clear," Lucius said, sweeping the room again with his eyes.

"Fuck," Draco cursed.

"I hardly think-"

"We have no idea where it went," Draco snapped. "I left the door open."

Lucius blanched. "Ippy!"

"Master did-"

"Have there been any fireworks found in the house?" Lucius interrupted.

"We has found none," Ippy responded.

"Good. One may have just escaped into the house. Gather the servants and scour the house again, starting from here. Check everywhere!" Lucius ordered.

"As Master-"

"Go!" Lucius roared.

Draco wandered away from Lucius. His gaze was roaming aimlessly over the room or what was left of it. Destruction didn't really begin to cover what he was seeing. There were scorch marks everywhere, along with pieces of parchment and various other items scattered on the floor. Frustrated to the point of rage, Draco kicked a small brown ball that he found between his feet. The ball went flying across the room and crashed into the wall with an odd soggy sound. A frown deepened across Draco's brow as his eyes examined the area where the ball had landed. He took half a step toward the brown mark on the wall before he realized exactly what he'd done.

"Father, get out here!"

"The room is-" Lucius' face screwed up in disgust. "What is that smell?"

"I kicked a dungbomb," Draco called over his shoulder.

Once in the corridor again with the door safely closed behind them, Lucius looked at his son, regarding him seriously while they both tried to catch their breath.

"What on earth possessed you to kick a dungbomb?" Lucius snarled.

"I didn't know what it was until it hit the wall," Draco answered.

"Why was one in the classroom?"

"Why were the fireworks in the classroom?" Draco retorted.

"Perhaps now is the time to talk to Drake?" Lucius suggested.

Draco shook his head.

"You have to do it some time," Lucius said intolerantly.

"I know," Draco snapped. "I just don't have the patience to deal with him right now. Besides I need to work out where the fireworks came from first."

"Your wife's brothers likely supplied them," Lucius pointed out.

"They definitely came from their shop, but I need to know how Drake ended up with them. He didn't have anything in his pockets last night when we got home, and I'm sure he didn't have them beforehand."

Lucius nodded slowly. "The house elves would know when they came into the house."

"Father, was Millie your nanny as a child?"

"Yes, she was." Lucius smiled fondly. "The secrets that house elf could tell."

"Precisely," Draco uttered. "She did the same for me, and I know she's doing the same for the twins."

"If you push her the right way she'll tell you what you want to know," Lucius advised.

"I don't think so," Draco responded. "She protects the children of Malfoy Manor with a passion that can't be compared-"

"Then threaten her with clothes," Lucius snarled. "You're too soft!"

"Threaten Millie?" Draco almost choked. "I couldn't- Not her."

"You need the information," Lucius pushed.

"And she won't give it to me, no matter what I threaten her with," Draco expressed wearily. "There has to be another way."

"Trick her into giving you the information," Lucius suggested. "Don't ask the direct question."

"She'll still protect him."

"A little information can go a long way to opening little boys' mouths," Lucius mused aloud. "I ought to know; it's how I managed to catch you out many times."

"I suppose that's my only option at this point," Draco mumbled. "I'll be in my study."

"I could sit in if you-"

"No, thank you, Father, but I need to handle this on my own," Draco responded. "Perhaps you could get a couple of servants to start cleaning the classroom? I would like to locate Miss Sheehan's possessions before she leaves."

"Of course," Lucius replied.

Draco strolled to his study, in no particular hurry to start dealing with the mess that his son had created. Without all the information he had a viable excuse not to talk to Drake yet, but he knew, once he'd spoken to Millie, he would lose that excuse.

His office was dark and comforting. The rich, familiar smell of his leather chair filled his senses as he sank into it. After a few minutes a sense of peace flowed through him and he felt capable of dealing with anything. How he would deal with it was another matter entirely, because he still didn't know, but he felt a successful resolution wasn't out of reach or beyond his ability.

"Millie!" Draco summoned.

The house elf appeared before his desk. "Master did summon Millie?"

"I need to know what happened this morning," Draco said calmly.

"Millie has left Little Master Drake and Miss Angel alone," the servant claimed nervously, half turning towards the door.

"Tell me about this morning, Millie," Draco said softly. "The children will be fine for a few minutes."

The house elf looked panicked for a moment, but managed to settle herself. "Millie did help Little Master Drake and Miss Angel with their breakfast-"

"No, start after I left for the office," Draco interrupted.

"Millie did clean for Little Master Drake and Miss Angel," the servant stated.

"Did anything unusual disrupt your morning?" Draco asked carefully.

"Millie did clean the ink in the schoolroom."

"Mmm… And did you help Drake change his clothes?"

"Millie did help Little Master Drake get clean."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Were you with Drake the whole time he was out of the classroom?"

The house elf nodded.

"Did Drake take anything extra back to the classroom?" Draco had to consciously hold back the smirk that wanted to tug his lips up as the elderly house elf started to fidget. He allowed her a few moments to wring her hands. "Well?"

"A package arrived for Little Master Drake while he was getting clean," Millie admitted.

"What was in the package?"

"Millie did not look."

"Who was it from?"

"Millie does not know," the servant answered as she averted her gaze.

Draco allowed the smirk that had been wanting to take up residence on his face to show itself at last as the lie slipped off her tongue. "Do you think it might have been from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Millie does not know," Millie responded with a shake of her head. "There was no Weasleys' Wizards on the box."

"Who brought the box to Drake?"

Again the servant started wringing her hands violently.

"Millie?" Draco prompted. "Tell me who delivered the box."

"Ippy," Millie whispered in a pained voice.

"I see," Draco drawled. "Return to your duties."

"Ippy did not see-"

"Return to your duties, Millie," Draco repeated sternly. "And you're forbidden from punishing yourself."

Millie gave him a tortured look before she Disapparated. He knew it was cruel to forbid her to punish herself for failing to keep Drake's secret, but he also knew that Ginny would punish him if Millie turned up injured at any point. Far better the servant to be in pain than him.

"Ippy!" Draco called.

"Master did summon Ippy?" Ippy asked as he arrived in front of Draco's desk.

"Tell me about the parcel that arrived for Drake this morning," Draco requested.

"It was a box," Ippy answered simply.

"Yes, I know that," Draco replied patiently. "Who delivered it?"

"Owls."

"Could you tell where it came from?"

"There was nothing on the box."

"How did you know it was for Drake?"

"Master Drake's name was on the box."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

"Where was Drake when you gave it to him?"

"Master Drake was in the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" Draco's eyebrows climbed his forehead in surprise. "Which bathroom?"

"The bathroom near the schoolroom."

"Who was with him?"

"Millie."

"Did you see what was in the box?"

"Master Drake ordered Ippy to give the box to Millie and leave," Ippy informed him.

"Return to your duties," Draco mumbled.

Draco didn't notice the pop of Disapparation as Ippy left his study; he was too deep in thought to allow such a mundane sound to bother him at the moment. He was positive that Ippy had told the truth. Millie, on the other hand, had manipulated the truth at least a couple of times, not to mention had lied to his face to protect Drake. He sat back in his chair pondering all that he'd just learned. There was no question of Drake's guilt and no explaining away his actions. From everything he'd heard this morning, Drake had acted deliberately to upset the classroom. It was conceivable that the five-year-old had no perception of the repercussions, but his behavior was still inexcusable. All of a sudden Draco sat forward in his chair, panic sparking uncomfortably in his stomach as he realized he was missing a vital piece of evidence.

"Millie!" Draco boomed.

"Master did-"

"Where is the box Drake received?"

"Millie does not-"

Draco stood up and moved around the desk to stand over the small servant. "You were the last one with him. I know he didn't carry the box into the classroom; so he either left it in the bathroom where it was delivered or you did something with it under his instruction."

The house elf began wringing her hands nervously. "Millie does not want Little Master to get into trouble."

"Drake is already in more trouble than he can imagine. I need to see the box, just in case there are more fireworks in there. I'm trying to keep him out of trouble in the future. He could have burned the house down, Millie." Though his tone was even, Draco was fast running out of patience with the overprotective house elf.

"Little Master Drake told Millie to put it where his broom is usually," Millie admitted. "Millie did not look inside."

"Return to your duties," Draco snapped.

"Little Master Drake is sorry for the commotion he caused," Millie muttered.

"He's going to be a lot sorrier by the time I get through with him," Draco growled. "Leave!"

Rather than sit down again, Draco left his study the moment Millie disappeared. The walk to his son's rooms was quick, and the box was easy enough to find. Draco was surprised at the weight of it when he picked it up; Drake would have most definitely struggled to carry it, even with some of the items already being expended. He was descending the staircase when his father came into view.

"What have we here?" Lucius asked curiously.

"It seems Drake received a parcel this morning," Draco answered. "I just retrieved what's left of it from his rooms."

"Is there anything to be concerned about-"

"I don't know yet," Draco cut Lucius off. "I'll open it in my study."

"Do you mind if I come along? For curiosity's sake," Lucius drawled.

"If you must," Draco ground out. He was becoming very aware that his father wasn't going to be content to let him deal with this alone, and while it didn't irk him so much, because he did appreciate the support and he had no idea what he was going to do with his son, it did make him feel a little inadequate.

When they reached Draco's study, he put the box on his desk and carefully opened it. There was an array of different items inside ranging from more fireworks to several items Draco couldn't identify from sight.

"Be careful," Lucius mumbled as Draco's hand entered the box.

"I doubt there's anything that would prove dangerous until it was unleashed, Father," Draco replied softly.

"Is that a sheet of parchment tucked into the side?" Lucius questioned, pointing to the side of the box.

Draco paused, and then smirked. "I believe it is."

He extracted the sheet of parchment and unfolded it. Without bothering with the contents initially, Draco's eyes went straight to the signature line and he swore a painful vengeance on his brothers-in-law.

"Well?" Lucius prompted.

"Fred and George Weasley sent him some things to make school more entertaining," Draco responded wryly.

"How could they be so irresponsible?"

"Oh, they did remember to add a note that he shouldn't tell us where he got the things from," Draco added sarcastically.

Lucius shook his head and sighed heavily. "What chance have you got when Ginevra's family encourage this sort of behavior?"

"It's only Fred and George," Draco muttered, feeling inexplicably offended that his father would assume the whole family was in on it. "They tend to think things like this are funny, but that's the nature of their business."

"It hardly helps you to teach your son right from wrong," Lucius observed.

"I don't think that's the issue here." Draco shook his head, knowing the words he spoke were true, which only made the situation more difficult. "Drake knows right from wrong. He knew enough to have this box hidden and enough to not let Miss Sheehan see the fireworks until it was too late. If he didn't think it was wrong, he wouldn't have been so sly about everything."

"True," Lucius mused.

Draco started to pull bits and pieces from the box one by one. He was amazed at the sheer quantity of joke items that were fast covering his desk.

"Is that a real wand?" Lucius questioned as Draco placed an ebony length of wood on the growing pile.

"I don't know." Draco sighed. "It feels real."

"I think we ought to examine it a little more carefully," Lucius suggested. "What if Drake has managed to usurp someone else's wand?"

"While I'm sorting this out, why don't you see if you can identify the owner of the wand?" Draco mumbled disinterestedly.

Lucius picked the wand up and examined it closely. He pointed it at the hearth. "Incendio!"

The wand shuddered and emitted a weak red glow. Lucius just had time to snort disgustedly before the wand leapt from his hand and began beating him over the head. An undignified yelp burst from his mouth.

"Father! What on-"

"Stop it! Draco, grab the wand!" Lucius growled as he tried to protect himself.

For several minutes Draco danced around the room trying to get a grip on the errant wand. His efforts were futile, as the wand seemed to sense his every move just before he made it. "Father, hold still!"

Lucius immediately became motionless. His face winced in pain as the wand struck him several times around the head. "Hurry," he hissed.

Draco watched the wand for a few seconds before lunging at it with all his might. Successful at last, he released a triumphant roar and held the wand aloft. He could feel the wand struggling to free itself, but with both his hands wrapped firmly around the shaft the efforts of the wand were pitiful at best.

Lucius wrenched open a small drawer on a side table. "In here!"

It took some careful maneuvering to get the length of wood into the drawer, but finally it was safely stowed away where it could do no harm.

"What on earth was that?" Lucius growled, as he tried to straighten his hair, which was now sticking up at all angles.

"A trick wand," Draco answered flatly, as he returned to the box of goodies.

"Who could possibly find that funny?" Lucius snapped.

"I guess it would be someone who isn't getting maimed by a length of enchanted wood," Draco answered wearily. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, no permanent damage," Lucius admitted.

"Good."

"Biscuits? They sent him biscuits? Do they think we don't feed him?" Lucius reached out for the bright yellow box on his son's desk.

"Don't!" Draco knocked the box from his father's hand. "They're not normal biscuits."

"They look perfectly normal," Lucius said, reaching for the box again.

"They're joke biscuits." Draco placed the box out of his father's reach. "If you eat one you'll turn into a giant yellow canary."

"Ingenious," Lucius mumbled.

"Fred and George think so," Draco returned dryly.

"What is this?" Lucius asked, reaching for a small brown bottle.

Draco sighed heavily. "Father, if you're going to touch things, please promise me you won't put anything in your mouth or use magic."

Lucius rolled his eyes contemptuously.

"Would you like me to let the wand out of the drawer to remind you what sick minds Ginny's brothers have?" Draco inquired acerbically.

"Very well, I promise not to taste anything or draw my wand for any reason," Lucius uttered mockingly.

Draco watched his father pick up the small brown bottle he was curious about. He had half a mind to snatch it away from him before he opened it, but he controlled the urge.

"U-No-Poo," Lucius sounded out slowly. "I don't think I even want to know what this does."

"I think it's fairly obvious," Draco muttered.

Lucius discarded the bottle for a rectangular box with a bright picture of a swamp on it. "Portable Swamp," he read.

Draco chuckled. "I remember those. The Weasley twins spread them through Hogwarts the day they left. It took Filch ages to work out how to get rid of them."

Lucius snorted as he put the box aside and picked up a small package with an all too familiar symbol on the front. "Edible Dark Mark."

His heart skipped a beat. Draco didn't even dare to breathe while his father was examining the foolishly named sweet.

"Is nothing sacred?" Lucius snarled, dropping the package.

"Apparently not," Draco mumbled under his breath. He resumed pulling packages out of the box. The sheer number of items was mind-boggling and just the thought of these 'jokes' in Drake's hands made his blood run cold.

"Skiving Snackbox." Lucius turned a lunchbox shaped container over in his hands. "Contents: Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, Fever Fudge, Fainting Fancies. Good Merlin!"

"I bought one of those when I was at Hogwarts." Draco took the container from his father. "The Puking Pastilles are nasty. I gave the Nosebleed Nougat to Crabbe, and while his nose was bleeding Goyle ate the antidote end; we had to find the twins and buy another Snackbox."

"Why on earth would you waste money on something like this?"

"Think about the name of the product," Draco urged. "It provided the perfect excuse to skive off class."

"Ridiculous," Lucius spat.

"They had other uses as well," Draco added. "I remember one night Pansy was driving us all insane with her nattering - nagging really - so we fed her a Fainting Fancy." Draco laughed at the memory. "We didn't give her the antidote until the next morning. She was furious."

"I hardly think that is amusing," Lucius snarled disgustedly. "Is that a telescope?"

Draco looked at the item Lucius was reaching for. "It looks like one."

"At least there's one useful item in all this rubbish," Lucius uttered as he lifted the telescope to his eye. He fiddled with it for a moment, trying to get the focus right, and just as he got it right the telescope emitted a thick cloud of black smoke followed quickly by a loud bang, and then Lucius let out a howl of pain.

"What? What did it do?" Draco demanded, dropping the odd looking horn-shaped thing that was in his hands on his desk.

"It hit me!" Lucius threw the telescope onto the desk.

"Ouch." Draco grimaced when he saw his father's face. "That's going to bruise."

All of a sudden there was an explosive noise from under the desk. Both men jumped, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

"What was that?" Lucius asked, peering around the other side of the desk.

"I don't know." Draco frowned. He couldn't see the item he'd had in his hands before Lucius got punched in the eye. "Or maybe I do."

"What do you mean?"

Draco dropped to his knees and peered into the shadowy recesses of the underside of his desk. "Shh," he whispered.

He thought he could just make out an odd shape in the darkest corner, but before he could be positive the thing moved. It scurried across the floor quickly, hiding behind the leg of his chair and exploding again, before moving to the next leg.

"Are we going to have to lock something else away?" Lucius asked.

"I don't think this is dangerous. It seems to be just running around making noise," Draco uttered thoughtfully.

While Draco was talking Lucius had slipped around behind the chair and slowly moved his foot over to trap the noisy thing against the leg of the chair. "Got it," Lucius announced.

"Thank you." Draco picked the odd horn-shaped item up and carefully placed it in the middle of a pile of jokes, so it couldn't escape.

"Do you think it will stay there?"

"It doesn't look like it can climb," Draco observed.

"Is there anything else in there that might catch us by surprise?" Lucius inquired.

"Umm…" Draco turned back to the box and started moving things around in it. "Instant Darkness Powder- They know how I feel about this stuff," he snarled.

"What else?" Lucius pressed impatiently.

Draco picked up a colorful box with bold writing. "Patented Daydream Charms. There's a bunch of quills in here as well."

"Another useful item?"

"Probably about as useful as the telescope is," Draco countered. "Ton-Tongue Toffees… I can only imagine what they do."

"Anything else?"

"More fireworks," Draco answered. "A few more things, but I think they're just doubles or variations of what I've already pulled out of the box."

"I hate to think of what might have happened if Drake had-"

"So do I," Draco cut in quickly. He didn't want to discuss what might have happened, because his imagination was sure to run away with wild ideas.

"What are you going to do now?" Lucius questioned.

"I suppose it's time to talk to Drake," Draco admitted reluctantly.

"Would you like me to get the boy?"

"No, it's all right. I'll have Millie escort him." Draco wondered how he was going to get rid of his father while he talked to his son. "You could do something for me."

"What's that?"

"Miss Sheehan needs to retrieve her personal items from the classroom, so could you supervise that?" Draco asked carefully. "I'd rather someone be there."

"Certainly," Lucius agreed.

"Perhaps you could secure her forwarding address as well?" Draco suggested. "I'd like to make sure we have that before she leaves."

"Of course." Lucius nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No, I think that's it. I'll handle everything else."

"Very well. I'll meet with you later," Lucius said.

"You might want to get something done about your eye before Mother sees you," Draco recommended.

Lucius mumbled something under his breath on the way out of the room, but it was so low that it was totally unintelligible.

Draco gazed at the mess on his desk and sighed heavily. This was far bigger than he had dared to imagine. He was going to kill Fred and George when he got his hands on them. If it weren't for their stupidity he wouldn't have to deal with this now, and they'd still have a competent tutor in their employ.

"Millie!"

"Master did summon Millie?"

"Escort the twins here," Draco instructed.

"As Master wishes." The house elf bowed low before Disapparating.

Draco sank into his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. He still had no idea what he was going to say to his heir, but he knew he couldn't delay the meeting any longer. It was this part of parenting that he detested. Why everything couldn't be sunshine and roses all the time was beyond him - it was so much easier.

His hands came up to scrub at his face. Exhaustion was beginning to seep into his bones and he hadn't even had lunch yet. He allowed his hands to fall away from his face and his eyes slipped open. The horrors that his desk contained at that time sent chills down his spine. For the time being he pushed the feeling aside - he needed to keep busy, so as not to dwell on what was to come.

There were several things he needed to accomplish before he returned to the office, so there was little sense in sitting here wasting time. He reached into his desk drawer and withdrew the files they'd used to interview prospective tutors. Although Draco doubted he'd be successful in luring another of the final candidates to the manor at this late date, he had to try. If they didn't have to advertise again it would be a blessing. With a sense of urgency, Draco picked up his quill and quickly composed a letter to his preferred candidate. When he was happy with the tone of what he'd written, Draco summoned his owl. A knock at the door made his bird jump while he was trying to tie the missive to its leg.

"Enter."

Draco finished securing the letter to his owl's leg and sent the bird on its way before looking up. His children were standing before his desk, and Millie was hovering just behind them. Drake was visibly pale and his eyes held a terrified expression that made Draco's heart hurt. Angel's eyes were wide open with morbid fascination as they passed over all that was piled on his desk.

"It seems we have a problem," Draco started, pleased that his voice sounded even and firm. "Angelique, did you have any idea of what your brother was going to do?"

Angel shook her head.

"All right," Draco said slowly. "Did you know that Drake had taken Miss Sheehan's wand?"

The little girl's bottom lip quivered and her gray eyes filled with tears.

Draco sucked in a silent breath as her unspoken answer became clear. He felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. His reason for questioning Angel was simply to get more information from her; to see if it correlated with the other evidence he'd collected. This was totally unexpected. "Did you do anything to disrupt class this morning, Angelique?"

As she shook her head to negate the idea, tears fell onto her cheeks.

"But you saw Drake take Miss Sheehan's wand?"

Angel nodded slowly.

"Why didn't you report this to Miss Sheehan?"

Draco closed his eyes as a heart-wrenching sob filled the room. He could have kicked himself for making such a tactical error with Angel. There was little hope that he would get anything out of her until she calmed down now.

The door of his office opened suddenly, startling everyone in the room.

"Draco- My apologies, I didn't realize you were busy," Lucius intoned as he scanned the room.

"It's all right, Father," Draco muttered. "Did you need something?"

"Miss Sheehan has retrieved her belongings from the classroom, and this is her forwarding address." Lucius offered a piece of parchment to his son. "I believe she said it's her parents' address."

"Thank you."

"Angelique, why are you upset?" Lucius asked, concern most evident in his tone.

Rather than answer, Angel began sobbing in earnest.

Draco sighed heavily. "Thank you, Father," he mumbled.

"There, there," Lucius crooned.

Horror, anger and finally reluctant resignation passed through Draco when Lucius picked Angel up and held her.

"You've nothing to worry about," Lucius whispered.

His rage began to boil. "On the contrary, Father. Angelique knew Drake had taken Miss Sheehan's wand, so I'd say she has something to answer for."

"You can't possibly believe that to be true," Lucius challenged, clearly not believing what his son had told him.

"She knew," Draco responded flatly. "She could have reported the theft, but she chose not to."

"Surely you're not going to punish her for not telling tales." Lucius looked scandalized.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet, Father. This has come as somewhat of a surprise," Draco admitted in a low voice. "If only she'd said something…" His voice trailed off when his father nodded slightly in understanding.

Although his father seemed to understand the dilemma and gravity of Angelique's silence, he continued to comfort her. Draco was struggling to control his emotions. On one hand he wanted Angel to calm down, but on the other he didn't think comforting her at this juncture was quite the right thing to do.

"Perhaps I should take Angelique to the women?" Lucius suggested. "It's not doing her any good to stay in this stressful situation."

"Not yet," Draco ordered deeply. He swallowed as his father's eyes burned into him. "Put her down, Father. She has to understand that her silence cost us a great deal."

"Draco, I hardly-"

"Well, I do," Draco snarled, cutting his father's protest off. "Put her down."

Angel clung to Lucius. Her little fingers had a white knuckle grip on his robes and her legs were holding him as if she were on a horse.

Draco allowed his anger to show on his face, not to frighten the children, but to let his father know that he was not joking. It seemed to do the trick, because when Lucius looked at him again he seemed at little taken aback and immediately moved to place Angel on her feet. He could see that his father was whispering something to her, but Draco couldn't hear exactly what, nor did he care at this juncture.

"Angelique, let go of Grandfather," Draco demanded.

The little strawberry blonde whimpered pathetically as the security of her grandfather's hands left her.

"Draco, surely this isn't necessary?" Lucius hissed.

"Father, why don't you make yourself comfortable by the hearth?" Draco suggested strongly. When Lucius didn't move right away, Draco narrowed his eyes at the older man and had to force himself to swallow a snarl. He couldn't have him putting his two Knuts worth in at every given opportunity.

Lucius was clearly not happy at being dismissed, but did move to sit in the plush chairs by the hearth. He muttered under his breath the whole way. Draco could only make out fragments of what he was complaining about and most of it centered on Angel's innocence.

"Angelique, I am most disappointed in you. If you'd spoken up you could have saved us a lot of trouble, not to mention your mother a lot of pain," Draco began in a low, serious voice. He was pleased that his last comment received a visible response from Drake, whose eyes widened and came up to meet his. "Your mother received a burn to her hand and, if you bothered to notice, your grandfather has a burn on his shoulder too."

Draco watched as the twins' eyes flitted over to Lucius and back to him again. He found it difficult to decipher exactly what was going through his son's mind at that point, because his eyes held a myriad of feelings, but he was confident that they all centered around worry and fear.

"Fireworks are pretty to look at, but they're very dangerous," Draco continued gravely. "In the wrong hands - the hands of inexperienced children - their effects can be devastating rather than enjoyable."

He paused to let his words sink in. The fact that Drake had made no effort to defend himself or explain his actions was disturbing, but for the time being he was happy to believe that the gravity of the situation was great enough that the boy realized exactly what he had done and that was responsible for keeping his tongue motionless.

A heartbreaking sob brought his attention back to his daughter. She was really suffering, and Draco began to question the justice of punishing her for simply not speaking up when she had the opportunity. After all, she was only five-years-old and to expect her to appreciate the consequences of her silence before the damage was done could be a little too much. As self-doubt began to sneak in, it brought a healthy dose of guilt along for the ride. His heart began to ache as her misery burned into him.

Draco cleared his throat, so his voice wouldn't crack. He knew his voice wouldn't be strong, but he hoped it would be even enough so as not to alert his father to his weakening state. "Father, perhaps you could escort Angel to her mother?"

"Certainly," Lucius replied with a curious expression.

Although, he knew his father was trying to meet his eyes Draco consciously averted his gaze. The last thing he wanted was for his father to see his weakness, even though Lucius himself had lobbied for Angel's innocence. He knew he would have to deal with his father's questions later, because even though Lucius would have opposed any punishment handed down to Angel he will be curious about Draco's change of heart - a weakness that Lucius would undoubtedly frown upon.

It wasn't until the door to the study closed behind them that Draco looked up again. His son still stood before him looking utterly miserable. Draco felt like he was drowning. This was far more than he was capable of handling. Experience would have been a useful tool, but where did one get the experience to deal with a situation like this? There was also a nagging feeling in his gut that if he messed this up he'd make the entire situation worse, so it was imperative that he got it right.

"Drake, I don't know what to say," Draco admitted in a low voice. "You endangered the entire household with this stunt and that can't go unpunished, but at the moment I just don't know how to punish you."

"Didn't mean to," Drake whispered.

"I'm sure you didn't," Draco answered. "Unfortunately, it doesn't change the outcome. Your mother is hurt, your grandmother is quite shaken, Angel was dragged into your mess because she kept your secret, Miss Sheehan has resigned-" He stopped abruptly when Drake gasped.

The little boy's eyes had gone wide with shock and, if possible, he'd paled even more.

"After Friday's drama, Miss Sheehan informed me that she would resign immediately if there was another incident. Today's efforts gave her no reason to change her mind. Although it leaves us without a tutor for the time being, I can't blame her for not wanting to continue. Who would want to deal with the attitude she's been receiving from you on a daily basis? Would you want to deal with someone who behaved like you have been every day?"

Drake shook his head a little.

"I wouldn't either," Draco confessed. He sighed heavily, shook his head and sank into his chair. "Come around here, Drake."

A bystander might have thought a funeral dirge was playing somewhere given the speed Drake moved around the desk. When he appeared beside Draco's chair, he could see that his son was shaking. Pain tore through him. It was never supposed to be like this.

"Why did you do it?" Draco asked passionately. Perhaps if he had some understanding of where Drake's thoughts were at the time he'd be able to cope with the situation better.

Drake shrugged. "It was supposed to be fun," he whispered.

"That didn't quite work out, did it?"

"No," Drake answered in a small voice.

"Was it fun for you?" Draco inquired suddenly feeling dreadful for not considering how terrifying the experience had been for Drake.

Between a loud sniff and a shuddery breath Drake shook his head.

"Were you frightened?"

Whether Drake nodded or not was unclear, but the wail he released let Draco know just how scared his son had been. Impulse rather than clear thought had Draco's arms gathering his son against his chest. He tried his best to soothe him quickly, but it took several minutes to stem the flow of tears and move on to erratic hitching every so often.

"It's over now and nothing else is going to happen," Draco said softly. "What we need to do now is make sure you never, ever do anything like this again. It scares me to think about how seriously you could have been hurt."

"I won't-never again-" Drake hiccupped loudly.

"That's good to hear," Draco cut in. He'd heard enough that he didn't feel it necessary to let his son continue stammering. "Of course, you will still be punished, but as I said before, I'm just not sure what to do with you. I already have your broomstick, and you won't be seeing that anytime in the near future."

A wretched sob tore from Drake's throat, but he didn't try to argue the point.

"I will let you know the rest of your punishment when I come to a decision." Draco sighed heavily. He knew he was going to need help with this matter. "You need to appreciate the seriousness of exactly what you did, so there is never a repeat."

Drake nodded and sniffed.

"For now, you can apologize to your mother and grandmother for subjecting them to such a traumatic experience," Draco advised. "But before we leave the study I want you to dry your tears."

The little boy scrubbed at his face viciously.

Draco frowned. All Drake had succeeded in doing is making his face even redder than before. "Perhaps we'll visit the bathroom on the way and you can wash your face?"

Just as Draco stood up a light tap on the door echoed through the room.

"Enter."

"Draco," Lucius uttered as he strode in. "An owl delivered this for you."

Draco eyed the envelope briefly. "I'll deal with it later."

"You might want to take care of it now," Lucius suggested.

"Oh?" Draco raised an eyebrow as he held his hand out for the envelope. His stomach dropped when he saw the Ministry seal. "Fuck," he hissed.

"Indeed," Lucius uttered.

For as much as he didn't want to, Draco found himself breaking the Ministry seal. The words contained in the missive did not make him feel any better. They had picked up on the fact that Drake had used a wand.

"Well?" Lucius questioned impatiently.

"It's a formal warning," Draco muttered.

"Is that all?"

"All? I rather think that's serious enough," Draco snapped.

"Think nothing of it," Lucius continued, ignoring his son's tone. "The Ministry send those warnings out all the time and nothing ever comes of them."

"Father, I hardly think-"

"Draco, think about it logically for a moment," Lucius urged. "He is five-years-old. What are they going to do to him? He can hardly be held responsible for his actions at this age."

Draco found himself nodding in agreement. The Ministry couldn't hold his son responsible at such a tender age, and they'd likely not pursue the matter any further. "We were just on our way to join the women. Drake has some apologies to make."

"Of course," Lucius uttered. "I'll walk with you."

The three wizards moved slowly towards the parlor where the women were still situated, stopping just once for Drake to wash his face and rid himself of some of the redness that had stained his eyes. Lucius and Draco walked side by side, with Drake bringing up the rear, dragging his feet to the point that Draco had to remind him to keep up several times during their journey.

Just before they reached the parlor door, Draco paused, allowing Drake to catch up with him, and then he forced his son to walk ahead, so he would be the first to enter the parlor. There was no putting off what he had to do, so there was little point in giving him bodies to hide behind.

The moment they stepped over the threshold Draco had to rethink his decision to bring Drake to the front, because the little boy stopped dead in front of him and Draco stumbled, as he tried to avoid squashing his son. He was about to berate him quietly, but held his tongue when he saw Drake's face; the little boy was staring at his mother, who was holding her injured hand on her lap.

Drake's eyes were as wide as saucers and the horrified expression they held told of his all consuming guilt. A small, strangled sound escaped his throat, but only Draco and Lucius heard it.

"Go on," Draco urged softly. For as difficult as it was to push him into the room, they couldn't stand there all day.

It was painful to watch Drake move across the floor slowly. He shuffled more than walked, but at least it was progress. Draco remained in the doorway for the time being; the last thing he wanted to do was trip over his son again.

"He's suffering," Lucius whispered.

"I can see that," Draco returned harshly.

"I remember that first day I saw him… He defended Ginevra with such ferocity," Lucius continued. "To know that he is responsible-"

Draco turned to face his father. His face was a mask of pain. "He has to face up to what he did."

"I agree," Lucius answered. "I was merely pointing out that his conscience appears to be punishing him in ways you cannot dream of doing."

A frown creased Draco's brow as his father's words sunk in. "This is a good thing?" he uttered uncertainly.

"Of course," Lucius responded. "Guilt is an ugly monster. The way he feels about his mother would only be compounding the horror of what he managed to achieve."

Draco glanced over to his son. Drake had just reached the women and even from a distance Draco could tell that his son was struggling with his emotions. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

Within seconds Draco was at his son's side. Although furious with him, he laid a comforting hand on the child's shoulder. Drake's breath was already hitching and his eyes, which seemed glued to Ginny's bandaged hand, were beginning to fill with tears.

"It's all right, darling," Ginny crooned, as she held her uninjured hand out.

For a moment Draco didn't think Drake was capable of moving, but then a gut wrenching wail forced itself from his throat, and he threw himself into his mother's arms.

"Shh." Ginny stroked Drake's back comfortingly. "It's all right, darling."

"S-so-rr-y, M-um-my," Drake stammered through his tears.

"Calm down, sweetheart," Ginny pleaded gently.

Draco's eyes drifted to Angel, who was sitting next to her mother. The little girl looked as though she was very close to joining her brother in tears - something he desperately hoped she wouldn't do. He had only half formed the thought when her chin began to quiver. Before he could even think about reacting, Lucius rushed across the room and gathered his granddaughter in his arms.

"Oh dear, so much upset," Narcissa said with a light sigh. "We need to cheer them up… Put the smiles back on their faces."

It was like he was stuck inside a nightmare - one where he could see what was going to happen ahead of time, but he was unable to move or put a stop to it. Disbelief was written all over Ginny's face as she turned slowly to face Narcissa. He could see her mouth opening to respond; yet, he felt helpless to save the situation. It was agonizing.

"I don't-" Ginny started.

"Mother, they are upset for good reason, and it wouldn't teach them anything if we were to immediately spoil them just so they'd stop crying," Draco interrupted calmly. Although surprised at himself for the sudden, yet strangely serene, outburst, Draco didn't let it show. However, he did immediately begin to pray to whomever might be listening that it would be enough to silence his wife, because if there was any more drama today his head was in danger of exploding.

"I wasn't suggesting-" Narcissa began defensively.

Draco simply raised an eyebrow at his mother. He knew she loved her grandchildren beyond reasonable levels, and it pained her to see them miserable, and he also knew that she was a hopeless disciplinarian.

"Perhaps if we could persuade Drake to calm down?" Lucius suggested quietly.

"I think he needs to feel miserable for a while," Draco returned. It wasn't as if his son's anguish didn't affect him, because it did - it cut through him like a thousand blades directly to the heart. He also didn't need to be an expert to know that this display was proof of Drake's regret and that the boy needed to express himself.

Lucius frowned irritably, but nodded in understanding. "Perhaps you're right, but his upset is affecting his sister."

Draco rubbed the back of his neck wearily. He could always rely on his father to point out the painfully obvious. The question was: what could he do about it? Drake clearly needed to vent his feelings - it wasn't good for anyone to carry around the sort of guilt that was eating at him. Of course, the fact that he had no idea how to get Drake to quiet down was also an issue, but one he preferred to not think too hard on at this point.

Ippy suddenly appeared at Lucius' side. The aged house elf bowed low and then directed his gaze in Draco's direction. "We be finding no fireworks in the house at all."

"Thank goodness," Draco uttered.

"This did come for Master." Ippy held out an envelope to Draco.

"Is the classroom clean yet?" Draco inquired as he snatched the envelope from the servant's hand.

"It is nearly finished," Ippy informed him.

"Once it's done everyone can return to their normal duties," Draco ordered. "And spread the word to the other servants that any package or letter entering the house that is addressed to the twins must be delivered to either myself or my wife, not the children. Any servant who breaks that rule will be issued with clothes."

"As Master wishes." With a quick bow the house elf Disapparated.

Draco ripped the envelope open and quickly scanned the missive it contained. A smile crept across his face and for the first time since his father had turned up in his office earlier in the day he began to feel lighter. "I'll be back soon," he mumbled.

"What is it?" Lucius asked before Draco reached the door.

"A solution I hope," Draco answered quickly.

"Draco?" Ginny called.

He stopped in the doorway and turned around. She was looking at him questioningly, obviously curious about his sudden need to leave. Rather than explain across the floor he walked back to her. With Drake still wailing talking was going to be difficult, but he would try his best to satisfy her curiosity.

"I sent an owl to Mr. Conway earlier," Draco started. "He's just replied, stating that he doesn't have a teaching position at the moment and he's interested in talking with me. I'm going to Floo him now and offer him the position."

"Oh," Ginny uttered. "I didn't realize you'd already contacted-"

"I was waiting for the twins to join me in my study and, rather than sit there fuming, I decided to do something and that seemed like a constructive thing to do," Draco explained quickly. He sensed his wife wasn't entirely happy with him.

Ginny frowned lightly. "I just thought we'd talk about it first."

"He was our second choice," Draco said. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"Well… I am… I just thought we'd talk about it first," Ginny repeated slowly.

"What was there to talk about? We both liked him and he's available. If you don't want me to offer him the position-"

"It's not that." Ginny shook her head. "Offer him the position."

"Are you sure?" Draco questioned.

"Yes. Go and make the Floo call. He was very impressive, and if he's available we'd be insane not to take advantage of that."

"I'll be back soon," Draco promised. He wasn't going to question her again now that she'd insisted he make the call, but he would make a point of talking to her later, because there was obviously something she wasn't comfortable with. It could be that she was simply surprised that he'd moved to secure the services of another tutor already, but he just wanted to make sure everything was truly all right.

With a sense of urgency about him, Draco's long legs carried him quickly to his study. He paused briefly as he entered his inner sanctum, but only long enough to make a mental note to have a servant clear the mess off his desk and contact his brothers-in-law at some point.

At the hearth he reached for the Floo powder. After a half an hour of carefully worded explanations and requests that might have sounded dangerously like begging Draco withdrew from the hearth feeling as though he could walk on air. He had successfully solved one problem. A glance at his desk reminded him that he had another problem to resolve.

"Millie!"

"Master did-"

"Pack all the joke items on my desk back into the box and for Merlin's sake be careful," Draco instructed. "The last thing we need is another accident."

"As Master wishes."

He watched the servant work while he mulled over ideas of what to do with the box. It made him infinitely uncomfortable to have it in the house any longer than necessary, because Drake might come across it and decide to activate something else. A small part of him wanted to go charging down to the twins' store and make a scene that would never be forgotten, but his conscience reminded him that it might damage their business. At the moment he had no doubt he was on the right side of the 'argument', so to speak, and given that, he would have the rest of the family on his side as well or should have once they found out what the twins had done.

A smirk started to tug at his mouth as an idea began to form in his mind. It was the perfect revenge. Draco strode to his desk and pulled some parchment from the drawer. He picked up his quill and tapped it against his mouth as he went through what he wanted to say in his head before committing it to paper.

"Just leave the box where is it, Millie," Draco instructed as the last of the items disappeared from his desk. "I'll take care of it from here."

"Yes, Master."

"Return to your duties," Draco mumbled as he brought his quill to the parchment.

Before the house elf had even Disapparated Draco was busy putting his thoughts onto parchment. When he finished his carefully scripted letter he read over what he'd written.

Dear Molly,

Fred and George had this box of goodies delivered to Drake this morning and, after the chaos that ensued in the classroom, I can't keep it in the house for fear that Drake may come across it while we're otherwise occupied. I know they often call in after they close the shop, so I beseech you to return the box to them when you next see them.

I apologize for making this your problem, but with the state of the classroom after a wild-fire whiz bang was let loose in there and the burn to Ginny's hand, I'm simply not going to have the time to ensure the box makes it safely back to the hands of its creators. While I could send it to the store, I am very aware of customers' perceptions and to see goods being returned wouldn't leave a favorable opinion in the minds of their patrons.

I implore you not to open the box for your own safety, as there are many of the twins' ingenious inventions contained in there and not all of them are safe to use inside a house.

Thanking you in advance.

Regards

Draco Malfoy

He smirked as he folded the parchment and slipped it inside an envelope. After a moment's consideration, Draco retrieved the letter Drake had received from his uncles and slipped that inside his envelope as well. When he had sealed the box and attached the envelope containing the letters, Draco leaned back in his chair and considered what he was doing for a few minutes. There was no doubt that he could handle this discreetly, but to do that would let the twins get off scot-free and he simply couldn't abide that. With a nod, he leaned forward and summoned every owl in the manor. Their burden would be great, but he had every confidence in their ability to deliver the package without incident.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her fantastic beta skills!