Of Chambers and Secrets

iii: red and white purebloods

With the scene caused by Sebastian the Direwolf, Harry took it upon himself to present a calm persona, simply because he knew that panicking was to be of no avail. The attention was uncalled for, and while he was confident of himself, he was not one to want attention on himself either. His father had just herded Harry, Hermione and Harry's familiar into the more comfortably dark crevices of the already packed bookstore.

The younger Slytherins perused the bookshelves vigorously, feeling glad that the Potions Professor had taken them to the much more discreet spaces within Flourish and Blotts. Severus, after issuing a stern look of warning at the pair to not wander off too far, allowed the children to take a good look upon titles, knowing that his son and his friend were bookworms.

The small band had seen a few familiar faces-- schoolmates, yearmates, alumni of Hogwarts', a few dignitaries herding their own brood... Ah, indeed, the feel of the upcoming Term was strong in the air.

Among the children around Harry's age, Harry managed to spot a silver hair among the crowd. Out of interest, Harry cocked his head to an angle that Hermione immediately noticed.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Draco's here, 'Mione. Is that his father beside him?"

Hermione followed Harry's look, and a tall, patrician man who could easily be said as Draco's sire could be spotted standing, holding a cane, looking down on everyone else. The taut figure was graceful despite his lithe, tall frame, imposing authority on everyone. Hermione felt like cowering, not wanting to be subjected to the icy stare. Unlike Harry's father, the Malfoy patriarch made Hermione feel unsafe despite the distance between them.

Beside her, Harry laid a supporting clutch on her shoulder. As she looked back, she saw his green eyes giving her a strong look.

"Don't worry, 'Mione," Harry quipped, voice as steady as it always was, "he won't be able to get to you. Now, how about this book?"

Hermione's attention was about to shift to the small book Harry was holding when suddenly, a baritone voice, precise and clear, rang through the shelves.

"Ah, Severus, just the man I wanted to see!"

Turning around, Hermione's brown eyes widened as Lord Malfoy strode over to where they were, Draco in tow. The tapping of the man's cane resounded across the store upon being in contact with the ancient, parqueted floor of the bookshop, making people stop what they were doing. But one look towards the scene, onlookers decided it was best they do not interfere nor eavesdrop. It was a prominent rumour, of course, that both parties still worked for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-- or at least, for the Dark Lord's lost cause.

"Hadrian, straighten your back," Hermione heard the tense order towards Harry from his father. To her, the dark man gave a firm, slight nod. Hermione gulped, but proceeded to heed the same order, keeping herself next to Hadrian, trying to blend in, as though she was a Pureblood herself. Behind the blonde man, Hermione saw Draco, looking quite different, for the other boy looked forlorn, silent, and calculated, far from the Draco she had always known.

For a while, she felt confused as to who was the real Draco, but as she took the chance to look at Harry, who beside her stood as confidently as ever, she knew exactly that there was nothing to fear-- not even the Rigid Draco with his equally as rigid father.

---

"Well met, Lord Malfoy," Hadrian heard his father greet the tall, pale, patrician man approaching them, "How is the Mistress Narcissa?"

Behind the man, Hadrian could see Draco, who  was obviously as afraid of his own father as the rest of the crowd. Beside him, he could feel Hermione's breath hitch.