The Auror and the Fountain

Chapter Four: Potion’s Professor


The darkness of the room was tight and still, the kind of night when silence is so complete it is palpable and anything that would have the nerve to break it deserved an evil fate. Draco opened his eyes, just a slit, and peeked around him to see what had woken him and take the necessary action to protect himself and his son.
Even though Scorpius was not in the room with him, the man’s first thoughts were of the child he would do anything for. Times like this were not his favorite for musing on his life, but it struck him that there were very few people he had ever met that could evoke that kind of protectiveness in him, and it went deeper than the whole father/son depth. His own father had eventually come to his aid, but for a lot of his life, Lucius had treated Draco more like a possession, an asset, than like a treasure.
The room was empty, nothing moved or stirred. He opened his eyes the rest of the way and sat up, listening intently for some sound or vibration, anything that would explain what had roused him from his sleep in the safest place he could ever imagine being.
A sound came to him, soft and urgent, and one that chilled him to the bones. It came from the extra bedroom that he had asked for, and been permitted, off to the left of his own room in the dungeons. The room where his parents, Lucius and Narcissa were sleeping, while he stayed at the school.
His wife had been perfectly clear that she would not be saddled with his aged parents while he was off figuring out what he wanted to be when he grew up. She had left the morning before he and Scorpius had departed, intending to use her free time to the fullest and travel to some European hot spots.
So, he had brought the couple along, ensconcing them in a safe place and engaging a medi-nurse to care for them while he was working. Though they were only in their sixties, not very old by wizarding standards, Narcissa’s demencia was only overshadowed by the deterioration of Lucius Malfoy’s physical self. His cane/wand, a constant companion for many years, was now the man’s only support and it was not enough to keep him mobile and active. Narcissa barely recognized her own son, and at times he and Lucius were the only ones who could keep her from running off. This was the fear that filled him as he heard the moaning coming from their bed this night.
Had his mother done something to his father and then run off to escape her fate?
He quickly threw on a robe, grabbed his wand and a potion that was useful in keeping the woman calm, and ran for the door that was magically spelled to keep her from leaving, but he was unsure if the castle itself had somehow overturned that spell.
The room was dark, the only light coming from the end of the potions master’s wand, as Draco entered and looked around. Lucius was lying with his back to his son’s entrance and Narcissa was sitting against the headboard, staring off into a space across the room with a look of sheer terror on her pale face. Lucius was the source of the moans as he cradled his arm close to him and rocked steadily in some form of pain.
As he looked close, he noted that the arm in question was the same that had once held the Dark Lord’s mark. It had long ago faded and never gave the man any consideration since. But, as Draco looked he saw a vague outline of the original lines and a light glow rose from the area. He was about to wake his father, to ask him what it could mean, when his mother gave out an angry hiss and tried to back even farther into the walls. Draco turned to the direction of her frightened gaze and saw the man.
It was the face he remembered from long ago, marred by wrinkles and heavily pockmarked, but he would never forget the man that had done major damage to the muggles and muggle-born during the war, then tried to weasel out of it by claiming that Draco’s father had imperiused him and forced him to do those things.
Draco was beyond angry.
“What are you doing here, Stan?” he said in a controlled growl.
“Wha’ am I doin? Wha’ are you doin’ here? Why ain’ ya at yer mansion, Malfoy?” Stan returned looking at the familiar walls that were so obviously in the lower floors of the castle where both men had done their schooling. One rarely forgot Hogwarts. He was breathing heavily, leaning against the wall and his face was beaded with sweat.
“Never mind that. How did you get here? You can’t apparate into Hogwarts. I happen to know the wards are still quite strong.” Draco argued, putting himself between the man and his parents. Later, he might think about revising his earlier appraisal. Apparently, there were others he would do anything for, as well as his son.
“Don’t needta. Not when ya got a built’n Portkey to any deaf-eater inna world.” Stan said, raising his arm and displaying the crude drawing of the Dark Mark on his skin. It looked as if the man had drawn it out, from memory, with something like charcoal or a burnt piece of wood. “Led me right ere, it did.” he added as he slid along the walls. “But now, I think I better keepa movin’. Got that ruddy Auror on me tail, and when Arry Po’ers a followin’ ya, ya keep on yer toes.” and with that said, Stan rushed past Draco and out the open door.
“Damn.” Draco swore. He had let a criminal escape his rooms by leaving the door open and not taking faster action. But, his parents were still there, and he couldn’t risk them getting caught in the crossfire of a duel, so he would now do the next best thing. It would open old wounds, but he had to contact Harry Potter as quickly as possible and tell him what had occurred. Draco dreaded this, but he had to protect his family and this seemed the best way. After waking his father, to deal with his mother and give her the potion, he hurried out and headed for his son’s owl.
During the summer, Houdini slept in Scorpius’ common room in the Ravenclaw tower. Draco was composing a note in his head as he hurried through the halls, and when he got there, he shouted the password to the suit of armor louder than he had planned.
“Out a bit late, ain’t ya, Professor?” came a voice behind him. Draco turned to see Ernie MacMillan, the replacement caretaker for the castle and the students of Hogwarts. Argus Filch had passed away quietly several years ago, and the nearly talent-less boy was the perfect choice to fill his squib shoes. “What’s up, Malfoy?” he asked.
“I need to see my son, MacMillan. It isn’t any of your business.” Draco said, and as the opening was now clear, he passed through, leaving the other man behind. “Stupid, no talent, power-mad fool. Like I have time for such a ridiculous idiot.” he groused as he crossed the room, and approached the owl.
Houdini was a white owl, sparsely decorated with some black feathers for markings and he was larger than most Draco had ever seen. He was a fierce fighter, but even more fervently loyal to his son and the boy’s safety. The owl watched him as he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to compose his note. After a few seconds, he had it rolled, tied and secured to the owl’s left leg. Before he sent it off, he took out another paper, folded it into the shape of a swan and held it up to his wand.
“Decorus Modum,” Draco said as he twirled the wand in the direction of the origami and felt his magic flow into it. He would have to face the consequences for that, but it would speed the auror up and therefore, was necessary. He tied the swan to Houdini’s other leg and took the bird to the window. “Harry Potter. Take these to him and do not let him delay in reading my note.” he said as he let the bird go, adding a bit of a toss to its departure.

Okay, so I lied. The chapter that brings Harry and Draco together is the next one. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I just lost track of how far it went before that. But, they do get together, eventually. That's why I posted it under the Harry/Draco subheading. Okay, but was this still good for you, even though they haven't gotten together, yet?