Be Careful
25: What You Spy On
By Anne B. Walsh
The cellar was dark enough that Draco could imagine, for a few moments, that he was still at Fidelus Manor. He’d been sent downstairs to fetch something, an extra chair for the supper table, perhaps, and he’d be returning in triumph with it in just a moment.
And Mum will chuckle at me and applaud for me. It’s a shame I didn’t get to see her this time, but she had a case at St. Mungo’s she couldn’t leave, and I’ll be back…
Draco’s musings came to an abrupt end as he reached the place he remembered turning with Abby. The corridor he needed was…
Gone. Not just blocked off, but gone. As if there had never been a corridor there at all.
There must have been. It can’t be the same in everything except that.
Draco began to feel along the stones of the wall where he recalled the opening being. They felt like stones—cold, rough, hard, and not inclined to give him the least bit of hope.
Of course, with magic, someone easily could have sealed off the corridor, and then made it look just like the rest of the wall. Which is probably what happened.
Draco slid his left hand over another block.
His fingers disappeared.
"Ah-ha!" He wiggled his hand cautiously. Though it looked as though it were disappearing into solid stone, around it he could feel nothing but air.
Now to see how big this opening is…
It was, as it turned out, the right size for a skinny teenager to squeeze through.
This is starting to make me nervous. But onwards.
Draco lit his wand and started down the corridor.
"Lucius?" said the Dark Lord, frowning as the wizard strolled into the briefing room for those Death Eaters going out on the ambush mission. "Perhaps I was not clear—"
"Draco is graciously allowing me to borrow his wand for the night, my lord," Lucius interrupted politely, bowing. "If you feel I would do better to remain behind, of course, I shall, but it would give me great pleasure to help you on this special night."
Lord Voldemort smiled. "By all means, then. Join us. Where is your devoted son, by the by, since you have brought him up?"
"Somewhere in the house," Lucius said, waving a dismissive hand. "Enjoying his newfound freedom."
The dozen or so Death Eaters in the room cackled.
"How long will that last?" Bellatrix asked, grinning. "Until he cheeks you again?"
"Come, come, Bella," the Dark Lord reproved. "Even Draco Malfoy must learn better at some point. Now that he has finally realized that his father will deliver on those promises of pain if he is not a good little boy, he will amend his behavior accordingly. Besides, in a few weeks, Draco will no longer be Lucius’ problem, or not directly so." His eyes went to Snape, sitting by himself against one wall. "Do you think you can deal with him, Severus?"
"I have coped for the past six years," Snape said dryly. "The additional power which will be mine as Headmaster can only aid me. I shall, somehow, survive it."
"And since we have that settled, let us begin." Voldemort unrolled a large map with a flick of his wand, and the Death Eaters bent to study it. "Lucius, since you are a last-minute addition, I believe I will ask the favor of your company personally…"
And here it is.
Draco stared at the door, swallowing hard. A gesture he’d seen from a few of his otherworld friends came to mind, a motion they seemed to make when they were upset or nervous.
Can’t hurt.
He rubbed his thumbnail against his forehead, up-down-back-forth, then put it to his lips. "Here we go, then," he muttered aloud.
The door swung open of its own accord.
Within it stood a stone pillar. The surface was polished to a glossy smoothness, but there was no light coming from it at all.
Or none that I can see with my wand lit like this…
"Nox."
Purple and orange afterimages danced across Draco’s sight in the moment after the light went out. He let them. His eyes would adjust soon enough—
There. I was wrong. It is glowing. But it’s so faint.
I wonder if that’s because no one has been here for a few hundred years?
Maybe I should stop standing here and wondering and just go inside and ask it myself.
Gingerly, he stepped across the threshold.
The light in the pillar brightened ever so slightly as he did. The floor, now visible, was empty, if covered in an inch or two of dust.
I’ll have to clean up thoroughly before I go back upstairs, or Lucius will have this whole story out of me before you can say wand.
Not that he’d believe it even if I spilled, so there’s really no danger…
Of course there’s no Danger. She’s in the other world.
Draco grinned at his own terrible pun and quickly, before he could change his mind, strode across to the pillar and laid a hand against it.
"Hello," he said under his breath, trying to sense the pulse of the thing as he had at Fidelus Manor. "My name’s Draco, Draco Malfoy. What’s yours?"
Do you have a name? Are you even still in there? I thought I felt something while I was talking, but I’m not sure. Still, the door did open when I spoke up…
"You like talking? Want me to talk to you? I can do that." Draco put his wand away and placed his other hand against the pillar as well. "Like Mum does with me some mornings, talking me awake to get me up and moving. My real mum, the one who helped me, the one who loves me." Thinking of her, even missing her, brought a smile to his face. "The lady upstairs, well, she does her best. But she doesn’t understand. She can’t. Because somewhere along the way, something went very wrong in our world, and people like her and me are the result."
<Youuuu?> rumbled a voice at the edge of his awareness. It sounded like a half-awake giant.
"Meeeeee." Draco channeled part of his surge of elation into a moment of silliness and the rest into enough strength to speak the truth. "I’m an inbred, overbearing, cowardly loser who just happened to make a wish that got him things he doesn’t deserve. Things like a second chance. Like friends. Like a world where I don’t have to choose between serving a master I hate and admitting my entire life has been a sham. Which it has, but there are people I’d rather not say that in front of."
<Nooooo.>
"No? No what?"
<Youuuu…>
The surface of the pillar in front of Draco’s face flashed bright silver, then cleared to show him his reflection. "Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, that’s me."
<Strooong.>
"Who, me?" Draco snorted. "Not likely. I never was, and I think it’s a bit late to learn."
<Strooong,> the voice insisted, and Draco’s reflection disappeared, to be replaced with a scene from his memory—the moment, just yesterday, when he’d faced down Lucius and won back his freedom.
"Stronger, maybe," Draco temporized. "Better than I was. But I’m still not strong."
<Learning.>
"I guess. But it’s going to take a long time to fix everything that’s wrong with me. My whole life, really. And I’ll never be done, not like finishing an essay or a test." The enormity of the task threatened to overwhelm Draco for a moment. Who was he, to try to change the life to which he’d been born and bred?
<Life…> the voice mused, the stone growing no warmer where Draco’s palms touched it, though the dull silver the mirror had faded into was pulsing to the beat of his heart. <Your life.>
"My life? Yes, it is."
<You decide it.>
"I wonder why that sounds familiar," Draco muttered. "So, that’s me. What about you?"
<Slept long.> The mirror brightened again, blurred faces flashing across it too quickly for Draco to get a good look at any of them. <Remember these, but long ago. Long and long. You… belong, and not.>
"And not? What’s that supposed to mean?"
<Not like others. Blood has changed. Not always for best.>
"Just in case I had any doubts left about whether or not you’re the same as the one at Fidelus Manor." Draco sighed. "All right. We’ve established that my blood, pure though it may be, is not much to your liking. Still, I’m the best you’re going to get. Can we work together?"
<Yes.> The answer was immediate. <But…>
"But?"
<Your magic tastes of far away.>
"It should." Draco shut his eyes and imagined this cellar filled with Beauvois and Riddles, imagined Abby standing next to him and Aurora in his arms again.
<You want to stay far away. To leave here.>
"I—well—yeah. I do." Trying to lie to something that could read his mind would probably have been one of the more pointless things Draco had ever done. And I’ve pulled some stupid stunts in my time.
<There is no other.> Silver light flashed, visible even through Draco’s eyelids, and he opened his eyes to see a picture of Lucius on the mirror-bright bit of pillar, edged in dirty red and shrinking even as he watched. <No other but this, and he would take and never give. Yes?>
"Yes." Draco felt his stomach start to sink. If it wants me to stay, to live in it properly again, to make it the way it should be…
<Old,> the voice said, and somehow Draco knew it meant itself, not him or Lucius, whose face vanished to be replaced by a picture of the Manor. <Sad. Tired. Want to sleep. Sleep forever.>
"Sleep for—you want to die?" What do you do for a suicidal house?
<Yes. But help you first. If you will promise.>
"Promise what?"
<Before you go, into your far away.> The Manor in the picture crumbled in on itself, clouds of dust billowing outward from it. <Make this real. Then sleep will come, forever.>
"Knock the house down?" Draco stared at the picture, appalled, but beginning to be intrigued. "How?"
<Magic will help. Come. Learn.>
The light within the pillar pulsed three times under Draco’s hands, and the world as he knew it vanished. He floated in a sea of light, at the same time weightless and impossibly massive, free to dance anywhere he chose and immobile as a stone—
Or a house.
This is what it’s like to be a magical house—to be Malfoy Manor, no less!
<Yes,> the voice agreed. <Now you learn.>
Draco learned. His skin against a wall or floor anywhere in the Manor would allow him to see what was happening anywhere else in the house or on the grounds. Two points of contact, and some of his own magic added, let him move things around. He experimented, grinning wickedly to himself, in rooms where some of the senior Death Eaters were working on plans.
<No one will know you do this,> the voice commented as Aunt Bella’s hand "slipped" on the doorknob and the door thudded against her forehead. <This magic can be traced only by one of the blood who knows it is here.>
More incentive not to tell Father anything. In case I needed it.
Vision and movement weren’t the only things he could get the Manor to do, Draco found. If he went into full contact, found another person inside the house, and spoke aloud, his words would be magically reproduced for that person to hear.
And no one else. Very convenient. Hard to pull off if there’s other people in the room with me, but maybe if I lean back against the wall and look bored, like I’m criticizing what’s going on under my breath…
<You begin well,> the voice said after what felt like days. <Enough for now. Come back when you are rested.>
"Fine by me," Draco croaked, blinking in surprise as he heard the words with his own ears. He was standing in the cellar again, both hands on the pillar, staring at the mirrored section which showed his face, a bit dusty and drawn but otherwise unchanged.
That can’t have taken as long as it felt like. But I did learn a lot, and I do need a nap. Then I can stay up tonight to work on understanding more, and updating my journal.
<Wait,> the voice said as he was about to remove his hands from the pillar. <A gift.>
The mirror flashed. A small, four-legged creature scampered across a grassy plain. Its body was long and low-slung, its nose pointed, its fur a pale pearl grey. When it stood up on its hind legs to look around it, its upper lip lifted to reveal pointed teeth.
"What is it?" Draco asked. Got a similar shape to a weasel—he grimaced—or a ferret, but I don’t think it’s either of those…
<You,> the voice said simply.
The picture vanished, the light died out, and Draco knew he would get nothing more from the magic of Malfoy Manor today.
And now I’m left with a mystery. What was that thing, and why is it me? Is it some kind of symbol? Am I going to be transfigured again?
He shrugged and left the room, closing the door behind him. The answer would come in its own time.
And Lucius is probably looking for me, to get my wand for tonight. Wonder where he is?
A quick hand on the stones of the wall, and an image floated behind Draco’s eyelids. Lucius sat on a sofa with Narcissa beside him, hands and lips busily exploring—
"Gah!" Draco yanked his hand away as if the wall had burned him. "Must remember that. Possibility of very, very nasty sights. Use with caution."
On the other hand, if I time this just right, I can embarrass the hell out of them both.
Draco snickered and set off to do exactly that.
This had the potential to be a great deal of fun.