The Boy Who Lived

Unexpected Guests at the Manor

At the end of March, Draco was called home for the holidays. The Dark Lord was away so he went, despite having to face his mad aunt and his father.

His mother hugged him possessively, holding his arm and checking him over like he was a child. 'You're too thin,' she said.

'Whatever,' he sneered, not impressed by any of it anymore.

It was while he was at the Manor that three more prisoners were brought in by Snatchers. His mother led them into the drawing room where he was sitting with his father. He knew immediately it was Granger and Weasley and his heart sunk, for although he was disfigured, it could only mean the third person was Potter.

'They say they've got Potter,' said his mother in a cold voice. 'Draco, come here.'

He rose slowly from his armchair as Greyback forced the prisoners into the light under the chandelier.

'Well, boy?' rasped the werewolf.

Draco looked into Potter's face. His face was huge, shiny and pink, every feature distorted by what he guessed was a jinx probably cast by Granger. His black hair reached his shoulders and there was a dark shadow around his jaw. The only true clue was his eyes, those eyes could only belong to Potter. Salazar, don't speak, Potter, was all he was thinking. His voice was bound to give him away. He tried pushing the thought into Potter's mind but was met by a strong Occlumency wall. That, at least, provided Draco with a strong gleam of satisfaction.

Potter held eye-contact with him, challenging him, resistant and defiant despite the hopelessness of the situation.

Don't give up hope.

'Well, Draco?' said his father. He sounded avid. 'Is it? Is it Harry Potter?'

'I can't - I can't be sure,' he said. He was scared of looking into Potter's hostile green eyes. He was keeping his distance from Greyback too, he didn't trust the werewolf.

'But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!'

He'd never heard his father sound so excited but he knew that if his father were to turn Potter over to the Dark Lord, after all this time, their favour would be restored.

His father confirmed his thoughts. 'Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-'

'Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr Malfoy? said Greyback.

'Of course not, of course not!' And his father leant close to Potter. 'It looks like a Stinging Jinx to me.'

Of course it's a fucking Stinging Jinx, you fucking imbecile! Draco wanted to scream. He kept quiet, wondering what to do. As soon as the Jinx wore off, there'd be no disguising who it was.

His father was scrutinising Potter's forehead, no doubt looking for traces of his scar. 'It could be...' he whispered. 'Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?'

He bent in close beside his father, not looking at Potter's forehead, only braving those emerald-green eyes. They were so distinctive; he couldn't be mistaken. I know it's you. But he kept his mask in place.

'I don't know,' he said in a controlled and bored voice, and he walked away towards the fireplace where his mother stood watching. At least it wasn't an outright lie.

His mother watched him with narrowed eyes. She knew he wasn't telling a distinct truth.

Bellatrix appeared and started arguing about who should summon the Dark Lord when suddenly she shrieked 'STOP! Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!'