Midnight Grace

Chapter Summary: Michael insists on joining Tia and Jo at their table, insisting he’s only concerned for their safety, despite the girl’s insistence that they can take care of themselves. Draco arrives on time only to discover the other party is late – but the extra reprieve doesn’t give him enough time to prepare himself for the shock he receives when they finally arrive.
Once the meeting has concluded he heads back to The Hog’s Head, only to discover his girlfriend sitting at a table with Coultier, a boy he deeply dislikes, while his best friend has passed out. Pansy appears, pointing out how Tia has betrayed him, and after a scuffle he grabs his girlfriend and dashes out the door, leaving the others to take care of themselves.


Chapter Eleven: Bond of Blood

By the time Jo had managed to heap Thane back into his seat and ascertain that he could manage on his own for a few minutes Tia and the mysterious stranger were already deep in conversation. Moving across the pub quickly and tugging her hood down for good measure, she reached the pair and grabbed her friend’s arm firmly, jerking her around until the redhead faced her.

“Excuse us,” Jo said firmly, glaring at the cloaked figure. Tugging Tia with her, she started back towards the table, the redhead glancing back at her drink left behind on the bar.

“Was that really necessary?” whispered Tia, looking back towards the glass and its slowly warming contents.

“Yes, it was,” Jo muttered. “That could be anyone! You can’t just talk to people in here!”

“He’s from Hogwarts,” Tia replied and Jo could almost hear her eyes rolling. “His name’s Michael.”

“That’s even worse,” the blonde admonished. “You’d better make sure Draco doesn’t catch him hitting on you like that!”

“He wasn’t hitting on me!” Tia denied. “He was only talking to me. Really.”

“Right,” Jo drawled sarcastically. “And you say I’m thick! Why else do you think he’s talking to you?”

“You’re right, boys are incapable of speaking unless they’re trying to get your clothes off,” Tia huffed and jerked her arm away from Jo.

“Generally,” Jo nodded as they arrived at the table to find Thane asleep, his head thrown back and his hood once again askew.

“Oh good lord!” she snapped, leaving Tia and setting about concealing the drunken boy’s face. “Now I see what Crabbe and Goyle’s job is!”

Tia snickered as she slid into her seat. “You seem better suited for it than they are.”

Jo snorted and took her seat once again, cursing inwardly that she’d forgotten to get something to drink while she’d been fetching her friend.

Glancing once more at the sleeping boy beside her, she reached over and pried his fingers from the empty Firewhisky bottle, his hand instinctively clutching hers as a replacement to the object she’d removed.

“Oh for crying out loud!” Jo muttered darkly, trying to free her hand and ignoring Tia’s laughter. “He’s even more annoying when he’s unconscious!”

The red headed girl was about to make a sarcastic remark when the interfering Hogwarts student, Michael, approached their table. He tugged back his hood and allowed them to see his face, his expression one of near contempt as he gazed at Thane. “Two ladies left in The Hog’s Head with no escort except an unconscious drunk?”

“It’s none of your business,” Jo snapped, bristling inwardly, though unsure why she suddenly felt so offended.

“But it is,” he gave them an unnerving smile as if he knew more than they did. “It wouldn’t be responsible of me to leave two lovely ladies unattended in a place such as this.”

“Sure it would. We’re not your responsibility,” Jo explained, an annoyed eyebrow arched above her crystal blue eyes. She watched Michael’s eyes dart to Tia, warming visibly as they landed on the girl’s slim figure, and Jo knew exactly what he was up to – and so would Draco if he were here to see. In fact Draco was more likely to jump to conclusions without needing to see the way he looked at her. “If I were you I’d disappear before Malfoy gets back.”

“And leave you with him,” Michael laughed and nodded toward Thane, who chose that very moment to let out a particularly loud snore. “You know that bartender’s been casting lecherous looks over here all afternoon.”

“He is rather unsettling,” Tia agreed slowly, her eyes meeting Michael’s briefly. Her voice betrayed that she too thought Mr. Coultier’s presence at their table was a bad idea. “But I’m sure he won’t bother us.”

“I insist,” he shook his head. “Think how I’d feel if something were to happen to you – either of you,” he added quickly, glancing at Jo.

“If something were to happen I’m sure we’d be more than capable of handling it,” Jo assured him, chuckling to herself. Chances were she was more capable than he was of handling the kind of occurrence likely to happen in a place like this.

Tia nodded her head in agreement. “We appreciate the offer,” she added. “But…”

“Right. But it would be best if you buzzed off,” Jo remarked confidently.

Tia’s head jerked towards her friend, luckily Jo couldn’t see her facial expression so it was easy to ignore. She understood Tia was trying to be polite but he’d really get the wrong impression that way. Taking a deep breath she decided to rectify that situation. “She’s dating Malfoy.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Coultier replied sarcastically.

“Then now you know,” Jo snapped.

“Thank you for the update,” Michael snickered, his eyes going back to Tia this time with sympathy. “He is coming back, I assume?”

“Yes, he is,” Tia nodded her head quickly, shifting uncomfortably.

“Soon,” Jo added, impatiently.

“I’m not scared of Draco Malfoy, so you might as well stop threatening me with him,” Coultier explained calmly. “I’ve run up against the pr- er… him before, and he’s not as terrifying as he likes to think.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Jo snorted loudly. Some small part of her couldn’t believe she was sitting there defending Draco Malfoy. It wasn’t that she disliked him per se, but she’d just never imagined actually touting him as a terrifying presence capable of terrible retributions.

“Look, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you exchange insults over Draco, disguised or not,” Tia snapped, surprising herself as much as the other two by defending who, in her mind, was decidedly not her boyfriend – at least not seriously.

“I’m not insulting him,” Coultier said gently. “I’m only saying that he doesn’t intimidate me.” He grabbed a nearby chair, pulled it to the end of the table and straddled it, resting his arms on the back and staring at the group adamantly. “When Malfoy comes back I’ll be more than happy to leave. But, until I see him return, I can’t just walk away and pretend not to care what happens.”

Thane shifted in his sleep just as Jo opened her mouth to contradict Coultier, distracting her as his head fell onto her shoulder with his nose very nearly imbedding itself in her cleavage. She looked down in disbelief, just as he let out another loud snore, his warm breath invading her blouse and sending chills through her.

*******

Jo picked up the glass and took a drink absently, her face leaning on her other hand and her entire figure defeated. Michael Coultier was still in his chair, staunchly keeping an eye on them for “their own good”, and Thane was once again flopped on her, his breath again going straight down the neckline of her blouse. No matter how many times she sat him up he just came crashing back down, so she’d given up in the interest of her shoulder and his face.

Tia was leaning back in her seat, her eyes occasionally going to the door in search of Draco as she continued to converse with Coultier politely. They were pleasantly interrupted by the bartender when he brought out the next round of drinks, placing the dusty bottle on the table in front of them, this time the drink of choice being Rum. Tia hadn’t had much of the Scotch, finding it rather an acquired taste, and had only partaken in honor of Thane’s birthday. But, now that the boy was unconscious, she felt no guilt whatsoever when she ordered something of her own preference.

The door opened and Jo and Tia looked up once more, both girls hoping to see Draco. Jo had never thought she’d look forward to seeing her house Prefect, but at that moment the thought of Draco waltzing through the door filled her with unimagined joy.

The figure that entered was definitely not the boy they were expecting, being decidedly shorter and feminine in shape. Despite the hooded robe, there was no disguising the shrouded figure’s gender. The girls didn’t pay much attention to her, instead looking back at the table in disappointment, but this new figure was indeed paying attention to them.

Pansy Parkinson surveyed the situation, finding it somewhat disappointing. It wasn’t as cozy as she would have liked, but at least Coultier was sitting with them at the same table, and she supposed that would do just as well in the grand scheme of things. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she watched the drunken Purefoy with his face down that annoying Yank’s blouse and cringed inwardly. Constantinescu had a reputation for having icy knickers, but apparently Thane had managed to melt them. At least that explained why she and the Canadian import were so chummy with one another, they were both man-eaters!

Straightening her spine she moved towards them slowly, trying to decide if she should interfere or not. Perhaps she could make things look cozier when Draco came walking in – or perhaps Volusia would just leave….

Pansy smiled wickedly as she checked the old rusty clock on the wall behind the bar. Yes, if the slut left that would be even better. She could send Coultier after her and when Draco returned he would see that his unfaithful girlfriend had left with another boy while his best friend had allowed it to happen! Oh yes, this was actually much better than Pansy had ever hoped!

Having to restrain herself from physically rubbing her hands in glee and giggling she walked straight towards the group of students, her spine straight and her head held high. She walked directly passed them, without as much as a blink her way. Satisfied, she sat at an empty table where she could see the group clearly and ordered a drink from the hag-like waitress. This was definitely one show she didn’t plan to miss.


Draco was exactly where he was supposed to be at exactly the time he was supposed to be, but the person with whom he was to meet was not. He scanned both directions of the darkened alleyway to find it completely devoid of life or movement of any kind. Whoever this was, he would be sure to let into him and make it clear that he wasn’t, nor was any Malfoy, a person to be trifled with, particularly when it came to another member of the family.

Fussing with the hood of his cloak, he paced the small section of alley which he occupied. Movement to his side caught is eye and he quickly turned, finding himself toe to toe with another hooded figure not unlike himself. The stranger’s face was shrouded in shadow both from the hood and the darkening skies above.

The stranger raised his hand and silently beckoned Draco to follow him as he turned and walked toward the woods. Draco reluctantly obeyed, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter. He gripped his wand tightly and followed the stranger’s back. The sound of the loose stone crunching beneath his feet was loud in his ears, his heart was racing and his mind was closed tightly.

They entered a clearing not far from the main path and the stranger stopped. The figure raised his arm and Draco gripped his wand even tighter, ready to throw out the first hex he could think of. But, it was he who soon felt like he’d been hit with a hex.

Draco felt his heart leave him altogether when he watched as the stranger lowered his hood to reveal his identity. He stood there numb and hollow as he watched the white-haired man turn around. “Father?”

Lucius Malfoy looked pale and drawn from his time in Azkaban, his white hair tied back neatly and tucked beneath his cloak. It had been over a year since he’d last laid eyes on his son and he was astonished at the changes in his boy. But, he was no longer a boy – he was a man. He hoped his eyes would convey what he knew his words would not. “We have no time to speak, Draco. I am here for very much the same purpose as you. Our Lord has assigned us a task, one that we must complete together, but I will not be able to help you.”

“How did you… where?” asked Draco, unable to speak any other words. His mind was still reeling at the reality that he was indeed looking into his father’s grey eyes that mirrored his own. It seemed impossible to believe that he was here, even though he stood right there in front of him.

“There is no time for questions,” he said coolly, keeping their conversation focused. “The Dark Lord has not afforded us time for reconciliation, and we must do what he says – it would be foolish not to.”

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again quickly at his father’s glare.

“Show me your mark,” said Lucius abruptly. Draco obeyed quickly, lifting the left sleeve of his cloak and then the sleeve of his shirt underneath to reveal the slithering Dark Mark. He grabbed his son’s arm roughly, letting his thumb run over the blackened lines. This was not the life he wanted for Draco. It was not what he had set out to provide him. He met his son’s eyes briefly, almost asking forgiveness of them, before puncturing Draco’s flesh.

Gritting his teeth, Draco growled under his breath as his eyes shot to his arm. He watched as his father’s thumbnail carved a bloody line along the edge of the mark. Deep red blood beaded and began to stream down his arm, his father’s grip tightening when he instinctively tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”

“What he’s told me to do,” said Lucius, his words emotionless. Letting go of Draco’s arm, he drew his wand and pressed it into his own Dark Mark. The skin beneath it turned bright red and blood began to pool around the tip until it spilled over his arm. “Our Lord has found a way to exploit our bonds, Draco. Never underestimate him, for he will find a way to make sure his will is done.

“You see, my blood runs through your veins, and he knows how powerful that can be. And through our blood, he intends to bind us. Beware of whom you trust, my son. The Dark Lord will know all that you do.”

“I don’t understand, Father. Why…”

“You will understand…” Lucius’s words sounded distant and warning. Grabbing his son again, he pressed their forearms together roughly. “So that we may better serve our Lord,” he raised his wand, “we willingly offer our blood. Consanginitus Adstrictus!”

What looked like fiery ropes slithered from the tip of Lucius’s wand and wrapped themselves around father’s and son’s arm alike, binding them together. The ropes burned and glowed as they knotted together. Draco felt a rush of fire race through the blood in his veins which rose violently as the ropes glowed brighter until they disappeared almost as quickly as they had been created. Their arms were thrust apart and each took a step backward from the force of the Dark magic’s power as it left.

Holding his arm, Draco looked up at his father, his eyes bewildered and questioning, and then his Mark began burn with more intensity than he had ever felt before.

“He calls,” said Lucius quietly. “I must go. Take this. And be careful of whom you trust. He will know.”

His father disappeared in front of him, a quiet pop all that signaled his departure. Draco was left with nothing but an aching arm and small folded piece of parchment in his hand. He turned and walked back to the alleyway where he had unknowingly met his father and stumbled back toward the Hog’s Head. Everything was spinning and his head felt light. He fell against the back wall of a vacant structure and, bending over, emptied the contents of his stomach to the ground outside.

Draco stayed there for several minutes, trying to catch his breath and rid his head of dizziness. He hadn’t yet fathomed what had just happened, and there would be no time to think on it now. The only thought he had was getting back to Tia and the others. He could think about everything else later, when he was alone.

Picking himself back up, and dusting off his robes, he ran a hand through his white-blonde hair before replacing his hood, and started his walk back to the pub where he had left his girlfriend in the care of his best and only friend, Thane Purefoy.

Pansy sat at the table, staring alternately from the door to the group of Hogwarts students nearby. She’d tried desperately to send Coultier messages without Volusia or Constantinescu noticing, but so far the Ravenclaw boy hadn’t noticed either.

She was really hoping they’d be closer together than they were, but she supposed their current arrangement would have to do. Coultier still sat in the chair at the end of the table, making friendly conversation. Volusia was the sole occupant of her side of the booth, her voice occasionally rising to join the conversation, while the yank half lay on the table, looking glazed and bored, with the unconscious Purefoy’s head practically down her shirt as he snored.

Pansy raised the dusty glass to her lips and took a burning sip of firewhiskey, her nerves jangling once more as the door opened, this time finally revealing the one person in the whole world she’d ever wait for – Draco Malfoy. She couldn’t see his face, it being obscured by his hood, but she’d know him anywhere – the way he walked, the way he moved.

Rising from her seat she hurried across the bar, tugging her hood up a notch to reveal herself to her beautiful Prefect. But rather than noticing her dashing towards him, Draco strode towards the table he’d left, oblivious to her presence.

His head was pounding when he entered the dirty little pub, the creak in the door sending sharp daggers through his skull. His arm ached and all he wanted to do was grab the others and get out of there. But, just as he stepped clear of the small tables in front of the booth where his girlfriend now sat, his ears rang again with the one voice in the world he had no desire to hear.

“Draco!” Pansy trilled as she reached him, clutching his arm and stopping him in mid stride.

“What the…” he muttered and turned in surprise, letting out a little cry as his eyes landed on her smiling face. He tried to jerk his arm away from her immediately. “Get your hands off of me!”

Jo’s head shot up at the whine issuing from Pansy’s lips, the sudden movement startling Thane awake for the first time all afternoon.

“What’s going on?” Thane asked, his voice thick with sleep as he blinked his eyes, finding his nose practically buried in Jo’s cleavage. Not that this was an undesirable place to be, but it didn’t take him long to realize something was amiss. Blinking his eyes he tried to focus on the figure sitting at the end of the table, he managed to say, “Who the bloody hell are you?”

“He’s back!” Tia exclaimed, which answered Thane’s first question but blatantly ignored his last. Relief swept over her for many reasons, none of which she’d admit. “Excuse me,” she said, glancing at Coultier and started to slide out of the booth when Pansy’s nasally voice met her ears. Her relief was quickly replaced with an annoyed rage she couldn’t explain.

“Look at her, Draco! She’s over there throwing herself at him! She’d probably be off in the loo letting him plaster her to the wall if she weren’t stuck babysitting Constantinescu and Purefoy! She…”

“Shut up!” Draco snarled finally shaking himself loose from her insistent grip, his cold eyes going straight to the group.

Jo nudged Thane into a sitting position, scowling and muttering about how he could damn well sit up now, the dark haired boy, looking around the room for the first time since waking, his eyes blurry, as Draco approached, his every step exuding fury.

Coultier’s ice-blue eyes locked on Thane’s dark ones, both boys exchanging looks of hatred at one another. As Thane’s eyes cleared, he realized who it was sitting across from him. Michael Coultier, a Seventh Year Ravenclaw that Draco had some problem with in their fifth year. This was just great. How was he going to explain this to Malfoy once they got back to the castle?

“What do you think you’re doing?” Draco demanded from Coultier who rose to his feet quickly. Draco’s hand went reflexively to his wand concealed inside his robe.

“What’s he doing here?” asked Thane, struggling to keep his words from slurring together. Jo shot him a glare in answer to his questioning look, imploring him to shut up. The last thing they needed now was a sad excuse for a comedy routine!

“Obviously I’m doing what you can’t or are unable to do,” Coultier replied haughtily to Draco’s question. “Would you rather I left the two girls alone with nothing but a drunken jester to protect them?”

“Who’s a jester?” Thane demanded, and Jo once again jammed her elbow in his ribs.

“Last time I checked, these two girls weren’t your responsibility,” Draco sneered, ignoring his drunken friend completely for the moment.

Pansy took that moment to join the party by grabbing Draco’s left arm and squeezing it tightly. She yelped as the back of Draco’s right hand caught her cheek, stars erupting in her eyes. Grabbing her cheek, she looked up into angry grey eyes and felt her heart vacate her chest.

Draco grimaced in pain, his cheeks flaring red as he growled through clenched teeth, “Get away from me!”

Coultier moved toward Draco with narrowed eyes, clearly unimpressed with Draco’s mistreatment of Pansy. “How dare you!”

“No!” Pansy shrieked, her hand still cupping her cheek as she thrust the other toward Michael. She turned back to Draco. “Just look at her,” she said, the fact Draco had just struck her apparently slipping her mind. The few patrons who had been looking decidedly lost interest at this point and went back to minding their own business. “Look what she does when your back is turned!!! She’s a whore, Draco!”

The tip of Draco’s wand pressed into Pansy’s throat, silencing her at once. “If you say my name one more time, you pathetic excuse for a Slytherin, I’ll rip your throat out!” Draco hissed at her, ignoring the wand Coultier was now pointing at him. “And don’t you EVER call her that again or I’ll make you suffer so much you’ll wish you were dead!”

Thane watched Coultier closely and fished his black leather gloves from inside his cloak and slipped them on. Jo caught his actions from the corner of her eyes and turned to him.

“This isn’t exactly the time to be getting ready to leave,” she muttered at him under her breath.

“Be quiet woman,” he insisted, meeting her crystal eyes with a glare.

“Leave her be,” the Ravenclaw warned, giving his wand a gentle shake to draw Draco’s attention to his threat.

“Stop it!” Tia ordered loudly, now on her feet, her eyes going from Michael to Draco, her hand reaching for her boyfriend’s arm, fingers curling around it. “What are you doing, Draco! Stop!”

Draco continued to snarl, his eyes meeting Tia’s quickly before focusing straight on Pansy again. “What I do is none of your business and if you ever touch me again like that I’ll cut off your arm and feed it to Hagrid!”

Jo was still sitting in her seat, her wand out as well and aimed in the general direction of Coultier, unsure whether she should do anything or not. Her other arm had been half propping Thane up until the wands had come out, and that seemed to sober him up immediately, his eyes instantly clearing fully as his head had snapped up.

“Back off,” Thane’s voice rose over the others, his gaze focused on Coultier. “Put your wand away and walk out the door now.”

As heads swiveled towards the new interference, Draco reached out, grabbing Tia’s arm, and in a flash he was dragging her towards the back door of the pub, his hand gripping her tightly enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark. She didn’t put up a fight, but let him drag her along, her head reeling from scotch and rum she’d consumed. The events still happening behind her seemed like a dream and she wasn’t even sure what was really going on, and a part of her was glad to be out of there.

A cry escaped Pansy’s lips and she started after them, but Coultier caught her arm,
growling low in his throat as the couple disappeared from view. Swiveling on his heels he leaned down suddenly, his face close to both Thane and Jo. “Tell your friend that if I ever see him manhandle her or Pansy like that again he’ll be sorry!”

“I’d advise you to keep your eyes and your nose to yourself,” Thane suggested, his voice light but edged with a threat, eyes narrowed at Michael who was once again straightening up.

“Then I suggest he keep his hands to himself,” Coultier finished, stashing his wand in his pocket. Turning and gazing at Pansy, his voice cool, he asked “Are you all right?”

Pansy’s eyes were wide with shock and welling with tears at her failure, a hand to her throat, rubbing the spot where Draco’s wand had pressed against the tender skin. “Draco… he’s left. I need to-“

“Good, we need to have a talk,” Michael replied. His hand slid down to her wrist and he tugged her after him, the pair heading out of the pub, the door banging shut behind them, leaving Thane and Jo alone at the now quiet table that moments before had been the scene of excitement..

“Well, that was exciting,” She commented, her eyebrows raised, her eyes going from one hooded visage to another, all of which were still staring at them, waiting to be sure the spectacle was over. “Perhaps we should go?”

“I’d like to, love,” Thane remarked, a grin creeping over his face. “But right now my legs don’t appear to be working.”