No Reason

Draco Malfoy had been sitting for almost four hours in the Ministry of Magic waiting for his meeting with the Minister himself, and the new Headmistress of Hogwarts. He stared ahead at a spot on the wall to avoid having to meet eyes with the bunches of witches and wizards that passed him, some just with curious glances, but most with a hateful gaze.

One wizard had even gone so far as to dump his coffee on Draco as he passed. Apologizing loudly, the man had been sure to call him Mr. Malfoy, causing the bustling groups to halt as one and openly gawk at him. Draco had simply stared the man down until he became uncomfortable and began to fidget, before muttering a spell to clean Draco’s soiled robes and walking off stiffly.

Draco didn’t have long to wait until the whispering gossipers had forgotten about him and gone on with their business. Not for the first time that day, he put his face in his hands and ask himself, “What am I doing here?”. He had been thinking that exact same thing the night that he had been meant to kill Dumbledore, and he had thought it again last night when he had appeared before the Dark Lord for the first time since his father’s imprisonment and his own embarrassing failure last year.

The Dark Lord had received him well at first, almost kindly, which had alerted Draco that something was wrong, and sure enough, as Draco began to recount the tales of his hiding from the Order, the Ministry, and trying to stay alive, Voldemort’s face began to twist into one of the most horrifying smiles Draco had ever seen.

“If you could even call it a smile.” Draco thought ruefully.

The man formerly known as Tom, bared his teeth in a very wolf-like manner, and started to laugh loudly. No one moved. No one breathed. Draco obediently lowered his eyes and knelt submissively on the ground.

“Please forgive my impotence, my Lord. I can assure you, I will never falter in my service again.”

The laughter abruptly stopped, and Lord Voldemort snorted.

“The Dark Lord does not forgive easily, young Malfoy. Surely your father has already learned this lesson. Punishment first, forgiveness later… maybe. “ he finished with a sneer.

Draco saw his Lord’s reflection in the glossy marble floor, he saw him pull his wand from a pocket deep inside his flowing ebony robes and point it directly at his head. He tensed involuntarily as he realized what was about to happen.

CRUCIO!” Voldemort bellowed.

Draco felt the familiar clenching of all the muscles in his body , and struggled to keep a stoic face, trembling slightly. It wouldn’t do to show any weakness right now. Even though he had been starting to get used to this particular unforgivable, it always left him feeling sick and light-headed.

The Dark Lord continued his cruel discipline until Draco was panting with exhaustion. Voldemort then stood, sending the Death Eaters closest to him staggering back in fright. He walked the few steps to where Draco still remained kneeling and placed a pale, withered, clawed hand on his sweaty forehead.

Draco gasped as intense pain erupted behind his eyes. His Lord was not gentle as he tore through the boy’s memories of the past few months, lingering painfully long on the memory of Dumbledore’s death. Draco stubbornly pushed his more recent private thought behind a black wall in his mind. If nothing else, Snape had taught him to protect himself.

Voldemort withdrew from his mind with a frown. He needed to speak with Snape. The boy’s memory, although clear, did not give the precious details that he so craved.
“Go, boy. Wait for my summons.” he said distractedly waving a hand as if swatting at a mosquito.

Dismissed, Draco stood and bowed respectfully, and left with stealth, anything to avoid a chat with one the Death Eaters. Returning home, Draco had spent that tossing and turning in a cold sweat. Draco Malfoy had an extremely dominant personality, he had been brought up by his father to be a leader, excelling at almost everything he tired. Almost.

That mudblood bitch had beaten him out on every grade in school, but as he thought about it now, he supposed it didn’t really matter anymore. It wasn’t like he was trying to become Minister or something. Just a slave, for the rest of his life. How he hated getting on his knees before someone, asking to be punished, begging for forgiveness.

He cringed as he thought about it, slowly untangling himself from his dark green silk sheets. For what exactly did he owe this man, “If you can even call ‘it’ a man.” he thought sourly, his eternal loyalty, his complete blind trust and willing service? The only things the Dark Lord had given him was a terrified mother, lunatic relatives, and his father’s imprisonment in Azkaban.

Where was this much talked about glory? This cleansing? It sure didn’t feel that what they were doing was cleansing in any way, shape or form. Though Draco was not a genius, he knew that the Dark Lord’s apparent goal to eradicate all muggles, mud bloods, and even half-bloods would eventually result in disaster. Draco chewed on his tongue angrily as he thought of his supposed Lord’s obvious lack of logic.

There were only so many pure-blooded families left in the wizarding world, and though they might be able to carry pure lines well past his own lifetime, Draco knew that one day the gene pool would run dry, forcing cousin upon cousin in the pursuit of a new pureblood witch or wizard, resulting in either a retarded baby or a really fucked up one.

Draco opened his stormy eyes as the first rays of the dawning sun crept past his dark curtains, blinding him for a second but then throwing brilliant rods of gold in every direction as it glinted off the many newly polished reflective surfaces in Draco’s spacious room at Malfoy Manor.

Since his father’s imprisonment, his mother hand been working her hands to the bone. Everytime he saw her, she was a blur of movement, barking orders at house elves, or taking off again to go shopping for more new things that they really didn’t need. All of the rooms were entirely spotless now, a large change from the cob-web infested, moldy mess it had been before, and Draco supposed it was somewhat for the better, healthier at the very least, and the smell of stale air had almost completely dissipated from the manor.

He believed it had been important to his mother too, with so many thing to preoccupy her, it didn’t allow her to spare many thoughts about how her world was crumbling around her. Her husband imprisoned, her son a monster.

But what could Draco do? How could he fix anything? He was just one person, and a wanted one at that, barely even an adult. Would anyone really even take him seriously?

“Only one way to find out.” he thought grimly.

It was how he had ended up here at the Ministry of Magic, to try and make sense of the abyss of madness he had been swept into at a very young age. He wondered if these people could really help him; his mind wandered so far that he almost began to wish that crazy old Dumbledore was still alive. Rumor had it that Albus Dumbledore was the only wizard that his Lord had ever truly feared, but now he was gone. He felt bile rise up in his throat. On top of his already straining nerves, now he was feeling nauseas.

He was just about to stand up and leave when a brisk looking witch rounded the corner next to him with click-clack of heels on stone. She scanned the crowds sitting on the long polished wood benches, and her eyes came to rest on him. She had professionally introduced herself, though Draco never could remember her name, and motioned for him to follow as she turned back in the direction from whence she came.

They eventually came to the end of the hall she was leading him down, which opened up into a high-ceilinged circular room. The lady then went and sat behind her desk, and, touching her wand to her temple she said, in a soft clear voice, “Minister, Mr. Draco Malfoy is here to see you, sir.”

A door sprung open to Draco’s left, seemingly of it’s own volition, and he entered, trying to quell his nervousness and stop the pounding of his heart, because even though he knew he needed help, he also understood the gravity of the situation. This would mean becoming a traitor to his own side, the ultimate betrayal, and if her ever happened to be found out by the wrong person, it would mean excruciating death. His Lord would be very angry with him for going behind his back to get into the school, but maybe he could say it was a plot to get to Harry Potter. The Dark Lord was ever partial to the idea of Potter’s death.

“Please have a seat Mr. Malfoy.” rumbled the voice of Rufus Scrimgeour, “Headmistress McGonagall will be with us shortly, I’m sure. I must say, I’m surprised to see you here Mr. Malfoy. Even more surprised at who you requested audience with. May I inquire as to why you are meeting here today with myself and the headmistress of Hogwarts?”

Draco merely straightened out his robes and had begun to reply, “With all due respect, sir, I would prefer to wait for--”

They didn’t have long to wait, for at that moment the door burst open with a slam, and in swept none other then professor Snape, with McGonagall hot on his heels. The flustered secretary mouthed a silent apology from the door, to the minister, before closing it quickly when she saw the face he made at the early-arriving McGonagall, and her unwanted guest.

“Severus, Minerva, welcome to my office, please have a seat.” Scrimgeour said, cleverly covering up his distaste for their intrusion while he had been trying to interrogate the boy.

Snape mumbled something and remained standing, as McGonagall sat politely in the chair offered to her. “Thank you, Minister,” she said, “Now, I haven’t much time, there are still many things to be done… before the opening of Hogwarts.” she added as an afterthought. “So let us get right down to business immediately. Mister Malfoy,” she said turning to him, “I didn’t thing I’d be seeing you again anytime soon. What, pray tell, is this all about.

Draco took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, mentally preparing himself for any negative reactions that he was sure would come. “Proffessor McGonagall,” he began, addressing the person he had really come here to see, “I know I’ve made many mistakes recently, and I have betrayed my school’s trust in my actions last year, and I sincerely apologize. I’d really appreciate the opportunity to return to Hogwarts, as nothing more than a student, to complete my education, and move on from all…this.” He didn’t have to say what this was. They already knew.

Draco stopped there, not really knowing what else to say, he cursed himself for not thinking about what he would say before he got there. Snape was avoiding looking in his direction, a blank look on his face. McGonagall was leaning back in her chair, hands neatly folded in her lap, studying him intently. The minister was blinking quickly, his mouth agape.

“Now see here, Mr. Malfoy, how can you expect to waltz in here, after months of being missing, impeding the auror’s investigation, and attempting to murder Albus Dumbledore, for merlin’s sake, and ask everyone to forgive you just like that, with no repercussions, and then have the gall to ask to return to Hogwarts?! It’s madness!” Scrimgeour exclaimed, turning very red in the face behind his bushy eyebrows.

There was an awkward silence then, in which Draco didn’t dare look at any of them, until McGonagall stood and cleared her throat. “I really must be going now, Minister. There are many things I must attend to, as I mentioned before, and I’ve neglected them for too long already. Severus,” she said half-turning to him and Draco didn‘t miss the look that passed between them, “I trust you to speak for myself and Hogwarts, I will get in touch when you return to Hogwarts. I wager I’ll be seeing you again soon Mr. Malfoy.” she said as she passed him to disappear out the door., almost too low for him to hear.

This lifted his spirits a little, at least they seemed willing to give him a chance, well except the minister. Draco wished he had just tried to contact McGonagall to begin with, but at the time, he was unsure as to exactly how pissed everyone would be that he tried to kill their precious Dumbledore. He snapped out of his thoughts as Snape spoke before the minister could recover from what the old man believed to be a very rude exit.

“Minister, on behalf of Hogwarts school and the newly appointed headmistress, I would like to accept Draco’s proposition to return to Hogwarts as a student to finish his education, despite his… errors.” His eyes flicked to Draco quickly, then back to the minister, who looked as he was about to boil over. “There will be substantial punishment of course, as I’m sure Draco realizes, The castle could use some… cleaning, among other things.”

The minister looked about to protest, when Snape grabbed Draco’s arm, hoisting him to his feet, and pushed him toward the door. “Hogwarts will supply you with full reports of his progress at school and work, thank you for your time, Minister, I know you must be busy.”

The door clicked shut behind them both, and Draco felt himself being steered by Snape, to where he didn’t know, but before they were out of range he thought he could hear the shattering of glass from behind the door they had just left.


AN*: 3rdChapter finished. Now that we've gotten past all the intro bullshit the story can go down. Review please. Also, note that I didn't proofread this chapter as many times as I've done the others so apologies for any stupid mistakes you may find, in advance.