The Family Jewels

Chapter 12
A Head Meeting

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table at dinner, some of the 7th Years talking quietly about Draco’s surprise party. Parvati and Lavender had been invited, as well as Ginny. Hermione looked at Ginny rather suspiciously when she heard this news, because Ginny had definitely not been on the list that Blaise had shown her. She wondered which of the Slytherin Gods had his way with her, and found that she was desperately jealous no matter which one it had been. Ron and Harry had not been pleased to hear that Ginny had been invited to Draco’s party. They looked at one another and silently agreed that she was not leaving their sight all night. They had not said anything about Hermione’s boyfriend. It was clear that this was a new relationship, and though Zabini had their conditional approval, maybe if they ignored their relationship, it would go away.

Hermione looked up when Draco entered the Great Hall flanked by the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team. The others looked tired and sweaty, and practically fell onto their food. Draco had showered and changed into a clean uniform in anticipation of his meeting that evening, as well as the continuation of his ‘talk’ with the Head Girl. He looked every inch the rich Pureblood snob that he, in fact, was. He took his seat next to Blaise and noticed immediately that a pervasive silence met his arrival at dinner. “Is there something wrong with everyone tonight, Blaise?” he asked as quietly as he could.

“I don’t know Draco, but I can find out for you. It is possible that I have been rather distracted the last few hours,” Blaise said, making no effort to hide his smirk.

“I’ll just bet, Zabini,” Draco shook his head at his friend’s barely concealed innuendo. “Speaking of bets, did you talk our friend into one?

“As a matter of fact, Draco, I did indeed. She attempted to drag you into it as well, but I had to inform her that I did not speak for you. I will warn you, she can be extremely persuasive,” Blaise said. They both looked over at the Gryffindor table, and almost as if she could feel their gaze, Hermione’s head swiveled to look at them and she smiled a rather private smile, and then went back to her dinner.

Professor Severus Snape walked down the aisle to Draco, and a hush followed in his wake. “Mister Malfoy, if you are quite finished, I will accompany you to the Headmaster’s office.” The way he said it, there was no way to determine if Draco was getting an award for special service to the school or being expelled.

“Well actually Professor,” Draco began as he was no where near finished and had ten minutes before the meeting, “I am finished,” he found himself saying after seeing the look in his Godfather’s eyes. “Blaise,” he said as he stood up.

“Draco,” Blaise answered.

Draco and Snape left the Great Hall in silence, which was finally broken when Snape said, in a much warmer tone, “Happy Birthday, my boy. I wonder how you like the gift I sent you this morning.”

Too late, Draco remembered the rest of his mail which was lying unopened in his bag in his room. “Well, sir, I haven’t actually opened it yet,” this information received the expected frown, so he hurried to continue, “I’m afraid the letter from my father quite took the joy out of opening my mail.”

“Lucius wrote to you? This is most unexpected. What does he say?” Severus wasn’t sure if he should be glad that his father was finally reaching out to the boy, or upset because it clearly was bothering Draco.

Draco reached into his pocket, drew out his father’s letter and handed it to Severus. He waited a minute for Severus to read it, and then asked, “Uncle Sev, do you know about these jewels?”

“The Malfoy emeralds are being delivered here to the castle, tonight?” Snape questioned.

“No, of course not, Mother has them,” Draco shook his head.

“Not the ones I speak of, she doesn’t. Of course not all the stones are emeralds, just the ones for your direct line who were in Slytherin House.” Severus was floored; he was actually going to get to see the bonding necklace of Lady Malfoy.

“Uncle Sev, please explain this to me, why doesn’t Mother have them? Why does Father…,” Severus put up a hand to silence Draco.

“Not here, and I don’t know the whole story. Good Lord, could it be the entire set? A courier is bringing them, you say?” Severus was already trying to decide what place inside the castle would be safe enough for the jewels.

“Yes, from Grandfather’s solicitors,” Draco answered, “Will he know the whole story?”

A speculative gleam lit Severus’ eyes. “It is possible that we might be able to piece together most of the tale, but it goes back hundreds of years. Lucius will be disappointed that he is unable to stop this,” Snape said almost gleefully. Draco had never seen his Godfather in such a state.

The pair was now at the stone Gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office. Snape gave the password, Pepper Imps, and they stepped onto the ascending staircase. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat behind the desk in his office attempting to offer refreshment to a rather distinguished looking man. He was small and slight for a man, with short white hair and glasses but had bright blue eyes that glowed with intelligence and good humor.

The man rose from his seat and came directly to Draco, “Gracious, you look just as your grandfather did when he was your age. I am Octavian Flom, and I am honored to be here for the occasion of your majority.” He put his hand out to shake both Draco’s and Severus’ hands. Draco could not place the accent, and Flom noticed his dilemma immediately.

“You may call me Mister Flom, as everyone here speaks English, yes?” Flom looked around to nodding heads. “Excellent.”

Even Snape was taken aback by the straightforward manner of the man. He exuded a natural authority that rivaled Dumbledore’s any day. “I take it that you knew the late Lord Malfoy?” Snape said.

“Of course, my family owns the ski chalet next to Lord Malfoy’s at Zermatt. We were great friends. I have looked for you these many years, Viscount Malfoy, but we must be missing each other.”

Draco looked at his feet. It had been years since his father had taken the time to spend any sort of vacation with his son, and his mother was not much of an outdoorswoman. “Yes, Mister Flom, that must be it,” Draco said with a tight smile.

“No matter, there will always be other years,” Flom said in a kind tone, without being patronizing. It was a fine line to walk, and Severus was not sure he had seen someone do it as skillfully as the man in front of him. Severus grew more certain that they would receive the full story of the Malfoy jewels, here, tonight. This man was no courier; he was one of the senior partners in one of the most powerful law firms in the wizarding world.

“Ah, Minerva and Miss Granger appear to be joining us,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“Others will be here?” Octavian Flom’s brows knit together. “I had not expected this. You are Viscount Malfoy’s Headmaster and Godfather; perhaps we should wait until after you have concluded your business before we commence ours.”

“Mister Malfoy? Is that your wish? I would have thought that the presence of the Deputy Headmistress and Miss Granger would not present a problem for you,” Dumbledore said, shooting a twinkling glance at Draco over his half moon spectacles.

‘The old coot knows,’ Draco thought. ‘How is that even possible?’

Smiling slightly, Draco said, “No, I have no objection to their presence. But I must confess; I am at a loss here. What jewels are we talking about exactly?”

“He doesn’t know?” Flom asked of the two men with Draco. Snape shook his head, “As a matter of fact, Draco received a letter from his father today forbidding him to take possession of the jewels.”

“Yes, I imagine that would be Lord Malfoy’s position. Pity, really, since the magic in the jewels was placed there to ensure the happiness of all Malfoy descendants.” Flom looked pained at having to speak ill of Draco’s father.

Hermione and Professor McGonagall came through the door and once again, polite introductions were made. Once all were seated, Octavian Flom took control of the meeting, standing next to Dumbledore’s desk and placing his hands on an ornately carved chest with the Malfoy crest on the top. It was obviously very old, though not very large.

“Viscount Malfoy, perhaps you would do us the honor of opening the chest for us,” Flom said. “I’m afraid it will only open for you or your father, and since he is not here, that task falls to you.”

“But, how? I don’t have a key,” Draco stuttered slightly.

“I believe that if you place your hand on the Malfoy crest and tap the lock with your wand, it will open for you,” Dumbledore said.

“Why won’t it open for anyone else?” Draco wanted to know, concerned at least on some level that his father had not performed this ceremony on his 17th birthday.

“The box is charmed to recognize only those direct descendants of the first Lord Malfoy, who gained that title in 1546,” Flom said, and Draco nodded, that part had been drilled into his head by his father enough over the years. Draco stepped up to the desk, placed his right hand on the box, and tapped the lock. It clicked open immediately, and Draco opened the lid. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but a dozen velvet pouches and an ornate, flat box was not it.

Flom took up his narrative again, as Draco took the flat box from the chest and opened it. All eyes were on the necklace in the box. There were 17 stones, each about 6 carats, set in platinum with the Malfoy crest at the bottom. “You will be the 18th Lord Malfoy, Draco, and I wonder how much you know of your early ancestors?”

“I know what my father wanted me to know,” Draco said bitterly. “I found out more about my own family here in the Hogwarts library than I ever did at the Manor.”

“Phillipe Malfoy had a great love match, and commissioned this necklace for his descendants. The men in your family have always been in Slytherin House, but not all the Lady Malfoys were. In order to honor the house of the chosen bride for each, the stone of their house would be added to the necklace at the time of their marriage. There are 12 emeralds for Slytherin, 3 sapphires for Ravenclaw, and 2 rubies for Gryffindor. To date there have been no Hufflepuffs to marry into the Malfoy family, but a canary diamond would be added.” Draco smirked at the dearth of Hufflepuff women in his family.

Flom continued on, “I believe that in that small pouch you will find the signet ring tied to the necklace.” Draco withdrew a platinum signet ring with a large square cut emerald superimposed over the Malfoy crest. “This ring is tied to the necklace, and as part of the traditional wedding ceremony, after the exchange of rings; this necklace is placed on the neck of the new Lady Malfoy. Once the ceremony is complete, they will have a bond that cannot be broken. Though the inside of the ring and the back of the crest on the necklace are smooth now, at the time of the bonding ceremony, a small amount of blood will be drawn when they are put on for the first time. You will exchange this blood with that of your new wife, ensuring fidelity on both your sides for as long as you live.”

“No wonder Father didn’t want them,” Draco said. When he saw the looks on the faces of the others, he thought ‘Good Lord, do I say that out loud?’

Hermione jumped into the conversation at this point, “Mister Flom, what are the other pouches for if only these two pieces are part of the bonding?”

“I think I might be able to shed some light on that question, Miss Granger,” said Professor Snape. “Since the men in Mister Malfoy’s family were tied to one woman, many of them commissioned pieces from the great jewelers of Europe to add to the, shall we say, variety, of their personal lives. I think it prudent that Draco not open any more of the pouches at this meeting.”

“Perhaps that would be best,” Octavian Flom stated, arranging some papers for Draco’s signature. “There is a diary that accompanies the pieces.” He reached into the box and withdrew a small volume which he placed in Draco’s hands.

Draco opened it immediately, but was disappointed in the first few pages. “This is in Medieval French,” he exclaimed. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Perhaps Miss Granger would consent to help you translate it,” Dumbledore said mildly, as Draco and Hermione chanced a glance at each other.

“I don’t know how to read Medieval French, either, sir,” Hermione said.

“No, Miss Granger, but I believe that you would be in a position to help Mister Malfoy in locating the books in the library that will aid in its translation,” Dumbledore said. Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore continued, “It is getting late, and I believe that we will have to reschedule the Head Meeting for another time.”

Draco signed the papers in front of him, as everyone stood and began to take their leave. Professor Snape picked up the box once it had been repacked, “Draco, I will take this to my personal quarters for safekeeping, if you have no objection?”

“No, I think the diary will keep me busy for some time, and I do have other responsibilities,” Draco said, smiling a small secret smile that was for Hermione alone.

They were all leaving when Professor Dumbledore said, “Miss Granger, if you could remain for a moment?”

Hermione nodded, and thought she had managed to communicate to Draco that he should wait for her downstairs. He gave her a short nod before following the others down the stairs and closing the doors behind him. “Thank you for agreeing to help Mister Malfoy with this. He is going against his father’s expressed wishes, and I hope to keep this quiet for as long as I can.” Hermione nodded, walking to the door, and then turning back when Dumbledore said, “Let’s keep his birthday party under control as befitting Head students, Miss Granger, shall we? Mister Zabini has been known to throw some rather interesting events, and I do hope your presence will prove a mitigating factor.”

“Of course, sir. Good night.” Hermione said, closing his office door quietly behind her.

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EmZ – I tried to make this one longer, and the Party is finally up next, which should be quite long.

Dreamweaver, Thisbe, Divine Angel- I promise, your long wait will soon be over.