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Danger hoisted the strainer filled with pasta out of the pot of boiling water and shook it briskly, then switched to a one-handed grip in order to snag herself a noodle. Biting it in half, she grinned. "Perfect," she said, and hurled the remainder of it across the room.

Percy, pushing open one half of the swinging door, blinked as half a strand of pasta went hurtling past him and hit the wall, where it stuck. "And what had that noodle ever done to you?" he inquired, stepping out of Crystal's way as she bustled out the other half of the door with a tray of food balanced on her arm.

"Nothing, that's just another way to make sure it's done. Which it is." Danger emptied the strainer into a serving bowl, picked up another pot from the stove, and tasted the sauce simmering inside it before pouring it over the pasta.

"That smells like peanuts."

"It should. It's made from peanut butter."

Percy's eyebrows rose. "Really, now."

"Come try a bit if you don't believe me. It's quite good." Danger pushed the serving bowl back on the counter into one of the red-painted circles which designated the spots with built-in warming spells. "It sounds unusual, I know, but it's tasty, it's vegetarian, and it's something of a storied food in our household…"


Luna turned to face the door, and her eyes drifted and refocused as Draco had seen them do so many times before. "You're right," she said. "We're not. We're in a shop of some kind." She blinked rapidly and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "There are Dark things in here. Very Dark, some of them."

"In that case…" Draco pulled his pendants from his robes, lengthened the chain with one swift pull, and dropped it over Luna's head. We don't want to be overheard, he said silently. Anyone who runs a shop with Dark magic hanging around probably wouldn't stop to ask too many questions if they found us in here.

No, they wouldn't. Luna possessed herself of one of Draco's hands and squeezed it briefly. Would you mind if I…

Go ahead, said Draco, catching the drift of what Luna wanted to do from the fragmentary images which had come with the words. You'll be the next thing to invisible, something so common no one even thinks about it.

Unlike me. But then, as long as no one looks too closely at my robes…

A moment's work with his wand, and the Gryffindor patch over his heart was the same midnight black as the rest of the fabric. Fleetingly he wished for his outdoor cloak, with its hood to shield his face—

As long as I'm wishing, why not wish for Harry's Invisibility Cloak? Or maybe not to have hidden in here at all?

The same spell which had camouflaged his House colors served for his hair. Though he was certain the combination of matte black and pale porcelain made him look like either a life-size doll or a particularly well-preserved Inferius, the point was not to win appearance awards but to get out of a possibly dangerous situation.

Do you think just opening and shutting the door would work? he asked of Starwing the owl, who was waiting patiently on the cabinet's floor beside him. Vanish us back to where we started? It's how we got here…

Starwing shook her head. There isn't nearly as much magic around us here as there was before Peeves shut the door back at Hogwarts, she said, stepping daintily onto Draco's wrist as he went to one knee and held it out to her. I think the Cabinet is out of practice at Vanishing things. We were lucky to get here all in one piece.

Well, there goes that idea. Draco got to his feet again, Starwing mantling her wings for balance. Back to Plan A. Wait until there's no one in the shop, then run like mad.

Does that mean you want me to tell you when there's no one in the shop?

If you would be so kind, my lady.

There's no one in the shop now. Starwing made the chuckling gurgle which served owls for laughter under her breath. If we go quickly, we should be able to get out before he comes back.

He? No, never mind, Draco corrected himself before Starwing could begin to answer. Tell me later. Here we go.

Drawing a deep breath, he lifted the cabinet door slightly and swung it wide, taking the weight which might otherwise have caused the hinges to creak.

His first impression was of the sort of magical junk shop in which he and the Pride had so often spied on Fred and George, and used their knowledge for small-scale blackmail. If they had ever discovered the twins in here, though, their demands would have increased exponentially.

That's assuming we didn't just tell the Pack-parents about it, and to hell with blackmail. Any place that sells bloodstained cards and cursed necklaces is dangerous, no two ways about it. Draco threaded his way carefully between overflowing bins and tables, holding Starwing against his chest. Not that the street out there looks any better, but at least out there I'll have room to run…

He reached the door and closed his fingers around the handle.

Don't yell, Starwing hissed inside his mind, in the same moment as an oily voice said, "May I help you?" from behind him.

The instant of warning allowed Draco to turn what would have been a guilty jerk of surprise into a slow, deliberate turn. By the time he was facing the stooped man who had emerged from a curtained door at the back of the shop, he had his features well under control, and even managed what he thought was a creditable look of disdain. "No," he said in a cool, slow voice, then added "Thank you" after a moment's pause, meant to convey his uncertainty as to whether the person before him deserved such politeness.

"You're sure?" The man started forward, rubbing his hands together. "I didn't realize anyone had come in—"

"I was just leaving," Draco cut in. "If you'll excuse me."

He turned and pushed the door open, making a bell jangle above it.

"Here now," the man began behind him, footsteps speeding up on the creaky floor, "haven't I seen you somewhere—"

Go, Draco snapped, reclaiming his chain and thrusting Starwing skyward as he broke into a run. She pushed off his wrist and flapped quickly above the grimy, overhanging buildings around them.

At least she's well out of it. Draco risked a glance over his shoulder. The man was still pursuing him, pointing after him and shouting hoarsely, and several of the other unkempt denizens of this twisting alleyway seemed minded to join in the chase—

A body slammed into him from his blind side, and he went down hard, managing to get his shoulder under him and roll to take a bit of the edge off the impact but still losing his breath as his attacker's full weight landed on top of him. He twisted frantically, trying to get a grip on the other, then cursed silently as he felt the chill of a spell pass over him—

"Stay down," hissed the pale, dark-haired boy who had tackled him, silver-gray eyes shining weirdly in the dim light of the alley. "Follow when it's safe." Shoving himself back to his feet, he sprinted off, plain black robes trailing behind him, the man from the shop only a few steps behind, a pair of untidy witches with trays and an unshaven wizard in tattered robes on his heels.

Was that—me?

Draco lay very still, letting his lungs remember how to work, and tried to form the last several seconds into some semblance of intelligent sense. It wasn't easy.

So I tackled myself to the ground, then told me to stay down and follow me when it's safe. He glanced down at his body, unsurprised to see only a vague outline through which the cobblestones beneath him were clearly visible. I obviously Disillusioned me while I was down, to be sure they wouldn't see me. This me, not the other me. I wonder if Luna will spot me? That me, not this me.

More to the point, what will Luna see if she looks at that me? Is it really me? Did I sneak into the Ministry and get a Time-Turner and come back and save myself? Or is it someone disguised as me, an Order member or a Red Shepherd or just a friend who spotted me running and decided to help?

On the whole, the latter seemed more likely, but there was one problem.

How did whoever-it-was disguise themselves as me in plain sight, without anybody noticing what they were doing? Even if they'd been using my face to sneak around with, for whatever reason, they'd still have had blond hair, not black, so they must've done the changes on the fly. But how could they work that kind of magic on themselves while running, and without being spotted? The only person we know who could do that is—

He let out his regained breath in a long, silent laugh as the name finally surfaced in his mind.

Well, at least now I know who I'm looking for. Or maybe I should say… Rolling onto his side, he changed forms and got his paws underneath himself. …who I'm sniffing for. Smells don't change even when looks do.

Slinking from one patch of shadow to the next, Snow Fox cast about until he found the trail he wanted, then followed the scent of forest groves and spellfire, with just a hint of dragon musk, at his best quick trot.

Ladies, after all, shouldn't be kept waiting.


"It's really very easy, you see." Danger added a splash of peanut oil to the hot skillet, then tossed in a generous pinch of hot pepper flakes and the large clove of garlic she'd chopped beforehand. "You can use more of the pepper or less, depending on how hot you like things, or even leave it out altogether. I'm going to make this batch a little spicier, since people seem to like that."

"That seems… imprecise," Percy said doubtfully. "How can you be sure you don't overdo?"

"In my case, I've been making this recipe so long I like to think my fingers can just tell what's the right amount. If you were to do it at home, you might want to measure things the first few times." Danger glanced up at him. "Or do you cook?"

"Sometimes. When I must." Percy stepped back as Danger lifted the skillet from the flame and expertly jabbed it forward in a looping motion, tossing its contents into the air and catching them within the pan without losing so much as a drop of oil. "Though I've never done that."

"What, sauteing? It's easy once you get the knack." Danger chuckled, setting the skillet back on the heat. "Though you certainly don't want to learn it with a hot pan! Use a cold one and some dried beans or rice until you've got the motion down." Catching his dubious look, she shook her head. "Don't be so hard on yourself. It's no different than learning the proper movement for a new spell, and I'm sure you know how to do that."

"Hmm. I hadn't thought of it that way." Percy looked down at the pan, where the garlic had turned translucent and the hot pepper flakes were a dark brown. "Is that ready to move on?"

"Yes, it is. Good catch." Danger picked up one of the two measuring cups beside the stove. "One-half cup of milk…" She dumped it into the pan, causing a loud hiss from the hot oil. "And three-quarters of a cup of peanut butter." This required some urging from her wand to leave its container, but eventually fell into the bubbling liquid with a small splash. "Now, this is where it's nice to have magic, because I don't have to get it smooth by hand, and that means I won't have cramps and an aching wrist later tonight." Picking up a metal whisk, she set it in the pan, then twirled her wand three times around it, starting it on its brisk journey around the pan's contents. "And there you have it. Peanut butter sauce."

Percy frowned. "That's all? It seems so simple."

"Oh, there are flourishes. It's good to grind a bit of black pepper into it, and you can add a drop or two of hot pepper oil if you want it spiced up more. And you can use peanuts or sesame seeds or green scallions as a garnish on the finished dish. But in essence, that's all it is." Danger shrugged, catching the whisk as it came by and checking the consistency of the sauce. "The best dishes are made from good ingredients, simply prepared. Even if some of them are unexpected."

"I see." Percy smiled. "Rather like life, isn't it?"

"Yes," Danger said slowly. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Crystal shoved back through the door, her tray now loaded with empty, sauce-stained dishes. "Two beef, two pasta, one chicken," she said briskly, setting the tray down next to the sink. Percy stepped to one side and flicked his wand at it, sending the dishes soaring into the dishpan, where another two waves started them washing themselves. "And once we have that up, someone who says she has to see you in person, Danger. Something about lost property."

"Lost property?" Danger paused for a moment in the midst of piling two bowls with her completed pasta. "I haven't lost anything that I know of. Did she give her name?"

"No, but I don't suppose she feels she has to." Crystal grinned. "There can't be too many people walking around with hair the same color scheme as that ridiculous advert Fred and George have in their front window."

"Hair the same—oh good Lord." Danger shoved the serving forks into Percy's hands and shot out the door. "Tonks, what on earth—" Percy heard her begin before the closing door cut her voice off.

Percy looked over at Crystal. "Lost property?" he asked, gingerly scooping out a portion of pasta which looked reasonable to fill the second bowl.

"Don't ask me, I just work here." Crystal scooped up a folded towel and pulled one of the ovens open, extracting a deep blue pot which emitted a marvelously savory odor when she set it on the stovetop and lifted the lid. "All I know is, she had a white owl on her shoulder, and either she's got a messed-up arm or she had something under her cloak too…"


"Tonks, what on earth have you found of mine?" Danger asked, beckoning the younger witch back towards the kitchen. "Not that I need to ask about one part of it—shouldn't you be at school?" This last clause was addressed to Starwing, who fluffed out her neck feathers in the closest thing owls had to a blush. "It would serve you right if I took you straight home and let your father deal with you—"

"Don't shout at them," Tonks said, stepping past Danger into the back room. "Judging by the way I found them, either this wasn't their idea or it went pretty badly wrong. I'd hate to think they planned something that stuffed up like this."

"They?" Danger folded her arms.

Tonks drew back her cloak. The small brown fox huddled in the crook of her left arm turned imploring eyes on Danger.

"Oh, don't give me that look." Danger plucked him out of Tonks's hold by the scruff of his neck, eliciting a muffled yelp, and deposited him on the nearest chair as Starwing fluttered to the table's edge. Tonks shut the door, then claimed another chair for herself. "Let's have it."

The fox shook himself once, then burst upwards and outwards into a rumpled, sheepish-looking Draco. "It was an accident," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I swear."

"Yes, it always is." Danger drew her wand and tapped him on the top of the head, removing what looked like an inexpertly applied coat of black varnish from his hair. "It's just that no one else ever seems to have accidents quite like you."

"It really was, though," said Luna, perched on the corner of the table almost as comfortably as Starwing had been. "We were just hiding from Peeves and Mr. Filch, and we picked the wrong thing to do it in."

"I'd say you did," Tonks put in, leaning back in her chair. "How exactly do you go from hiding at Hogwarts to bolting up Knockturn Alley with Brucellus Borgin hot on your trail?"

"Bolting up—" Danger stopped and counted backwards from ten in Latin. "All right," she said when she was finished. "Clearly you're not hurt, and it doesn't sound like you've destroyed anything that can't be repaired, so as long as no one's hunting for you there should be no damage done, and I have a feeling this is a story I'm going to need to hear all the way through. We'll declare a moratorium on punishments for the time being." Love, would you mind firecalling Minerva? she added mentally, feeling Remus stir in the back of her mind as her emotional state caught his attention. Let her know she's, shall we say, misplaced a pair of students?

What, again? Remus chuckled. I'll get the message through. Start without me if you have to.

"Could we maybe have some dinner before we tell you what happened?" Draco asked wistfully, turning his head to track the mixed aromas floating in from the kitchen. "I was on my way to the Great Hall when I ran into Peeves, and I don't think Luna ever got there."

Luna shook her head, sliding off the table. "I didn't much want to eat, with what I was thinking about," she said. "But flying always makes me hungry, so I could eat now." She sniffed the air. "Is that your chicken with the mushroom and sweet wine sauce, Mrs. Danger?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. And I don't have to ask what you want." Danger smiled at Draco, who licked his lips exaggeratedly. "Anything for you, Tonks?"

"If you can wrap it up to take away. I should get back to my stakeout."

Draco winced. "We blew that open for you, didn't we? I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Tonks scrubbed her knuckles briefly across his scalp, dodging his lunge and snap of teeth. "It would've looked a lot more suspicious if I hadn't joined in the chase. Might even be better this way, because I can just meander back looking different and no one has to know I'm the same person who was there before. Besides, my partner's still on the spot, so we're covered, but I don't want to leave him alone there for too long."

"So something portable and quick. Got it." Danger hurried back to the kitchen, where she had to hide a smile at the sight of Percy, enveloped in a large apron with a chef's toque askew on his head, furrowing his brow in concentration as he sent spoons and knives sailing back and forth across the kitchen with his wand.

"One chicken, one pasta, and slice some of the beef thin for me?" she requested at the first moment when he had nothing airborne to be distracted from. "I'm making Tonks a wrap, she has to get back."

"Of course." Percy directed a shallow bowl towards the dish of pasta and a plate towards the pot of chicken. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Or it should be." Danger removed a piece of flatbread from the refrigerator and held it between her hands until it was nicely warmed and pliable, then plopped it down in a free space on one of the cutting boards and pointed. Percy flicked his wand at it, and a pile of sliced beef materialized, followed by a small shower of carrots, peas, and pearl onions. "Excellent. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Percy said loftily, turning just in time to see the pasta overflow the bowl and tip onto the stove with a violent hiss and a smell of charred peanuts.

Danger busied herself with folding flatbread around meat and vegetables in order to hide her grin.


"Thanks for the save," Draco said, bumping Tonks's shoulder with his. "Good thinking to bowl me over and Disillusion me, then jump up looking like me and run off. Nobody's going to be stopping to try and help you up, not down Knockturn Alley, and once you get a corner or two ahead of them, you can just stop and change into anything you like and they'll run right past you looking for me."

"Which is exactly what I did, so I'm glad you approve." Tonks tweaked his ear. "Try not to fall through any more cabinets, okay, little cousin? Next time I might not be there to bail you out."

"Don't worry, I'll listen to Luna next time she tells me something has magic around it." Draco grimaced. "You'd think I'd have learned that by now, wouldn't you?"

"You? Learn things? I didn't know that was possible." Tonks leaned out of the way of Draco's halfhearted punch, waved to Luna, and scooped her wrap off the top of Danger's tray as Danger carried it in. "Have a good night, all. I'll be in touch."

"Say hi to Charlie for us," Luna called after her. Tonks tossed them a thumbs-up without breaking stride.

"Minerva apparently expressed herself with vigor on the subject of students who fail to stay where they're put," said Danger, setting the tray down on the table and drawing her wand to close the door. "However, she accepted Remus's assurances that this was in fact an accident and that it will be an isolated incident." Handing Luna her plate of chicken, she fixed Draco with a stare equal parts blue and brown. "I trust you don't intend to make him into a liar."

Draco shook his head. Danger regarded him for a moment, as though trying to decide if he were sincere, then smiled. "Good," she said, setting down his bowl of pasta. "Take the edge off, then get started at your own pace. We don't quite have all night, but close to it."

"Right." Draco helped himself to a fork from the tray, loaded and twirled it, and took his first bite, trying to get his thoughts in order. Don't think I need to mention what Peeves was on about, not really. It doesn't matter. Just that I ran across him, chased him off, he went and found Filch and led him straight to us, and I wasn't about to take a bunch of detentions for not doing anything wrong…

Danger listened without comment to his narrative of his and Luna's encounter with Hogwarts's resident poltergeist and their avoidance of one with the caretaker, though Draco thought he saw an increase in the swirls of blue which indicated Moony's presence when he described Peeves's obsequious politeness towards Filch. The trip through the Vanishing Cabinet and their arrival in what he now knew had been the infamous Borgin and Burkes netted the same lack of response, but his unceremonious exit therefrom drew a brief grin. "I see we've been studying our Marauder Commandments."

"Eleventh Commandment," Draco said promptly. "Thou shalt not get caught. Twelfth Commandment. When at risk of violating Eleventh Commandment, thou shalt run like hell."

"That's my boy." Danger patted his shoulder proudly, then sobered. "I can't say I like the idea of that easy an access to Hogwarts in that Dark of a location. Not to mention, if that one exists, could there be others? But you've found this one, and we can deal with it now." She blew out a breath. "Well done on that count. Also on thinking to disguise yourself, even just a bit."

"I figured if we were in a shop filled with Dark magic, it was a fair bet Lucius had been around it somewhere along the line, buying or selling or both." Draco shrugged. "That's probably why Borgin thought I looked familiar, but without this—" He tugged a hank of his hair between two fingers. "He couldn't put it together."

"I helped some too," said Luna, looking up from the design she was tracing with one tine of her fork in the leftover sauce on her plate. "Not by doing anything, though I would have if I could, but just by being there."

"How do you mean?" Draco asked.

"Well." Luna smiled sweetly. "Snowy owls aren't very common, you know. And if Mr. Borgin didn't get a good look at you, if all he saw was that you looked like the right age to be at Hogwarts and had dark hair and a white owl, and if he starts telling the story of the boy who got away to his usual customers, and some of them have children who go to Hogwarts…"

"Luna," said Danger after a moment's pause, "are you saying the Death Eaters might think Draco was Harry?"

"It might be interesting to see what they do if they did." Luna giggled a little. "Maybe we should ask Tonks to watch that store too. See if anything disappears or gets locked up or put under heavy alarm spells."

"I've been mistaken for many people," Draco commented, "but somehow Harry was never one of them. How d'you think they'll account for my not wearing glasses? Or will that tell them they've got to be wrong?"

Danger shrugged. "In my experience, once people think they're right, they can come up with reasons for anything. Maybe they'll say Borgin didn't notice them because the light was bad, or you'd taken them off to try to disguise yourself, or they broke when you fell out of the Floo at the wrong fireplace."

"The wrong fireplace? Really?" Draco grimaced. "What am I, six? Or rather, what is Harry?"

"The Boy Who Lived," said Luna in a singsong tone. "The Chosen One. The alpha of the Pride. Should I go on?"

"No. Please don't." Draco twirled the last of his pasta onto his fork. "Go back instead. Back to what you were about to tell me before Peeves contracted his unnatural alliance with Filch. Luna's got a new twist on that story of Padfoot's," he explained to Danger. "Something to do with Alex and his kids, and his father…"

"Yes." Luna pushed her plate away. "His father. Lord Salazar Slytherin, to be precise. A baron, a landed nobleman." Her tone now was vicious, with a cold, biting venom Draco had never heard from her before. "He owned the land where Hogwarts is, did you know that? It was his through his mother's family, and he was so proud to think that their fine school would be erected on it. But then the other Founders started to do things he thought of as unnatural. Perverted. And then even his own son was seduced by their twisted lies." She flattened her palms against the table. "So he took what seemed, to him, a very proper step. He took his anger and his wounded pride and he turned them into a curse. And he laid that curse on his son, and on his son's children, and on all their children after them."

Draco resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself, settling for a brief, heartfelt shudder. Danger laid her hand comfortingly over his, and he gave her a thankful smile. It's so creepy when she gets this way, he sent through their blood link. Like living with one of those ancient priestesses—what were they called again?

I think you mean the Pythia, at the Oracle at Delphi. Danger's silent chuckle echoed through Draco's mind. Be glad she's not one. Their "cryptic utterances" are generally considered to have been the result of drugs. Now hush, this may be important.

Luna, unaware of the mental conversation, was still speaking, her words so sharp-edged Draco was surprised not to see her lips bleeding. "He came to his son's home on a night which should have been the happiest of his life. A night when his son now also had a son, for his gracious wife had borne a strong and handsome baby boy, and their beloved red-haired daughter had held her new brother in her arms like a precious gift. And he looked his son in the eye, and he told him what he had done, and he destroyed that family's joy forever. For this was the curse which Salazar Slytherin laid on the child who displeased him, and no magic could defend against it:

"'By your actions you have taken from me one of my two sons, and left me only one child to carry on my name. On this day and in this hour, I curse you, and all your descendants after you, that you may know the same anguish I suffer because of you. For no matter how many children you may sire, no matter how many your wife may bear, before ever they attain the fullness of their years, all but one of them shall die.'"

Danger pressed her free hand to her lips, stifling a cry. Indistinctly, in the back of his mind, Draco heard a curse in a voice which sounded like Moony's, and provided a vehement, if silent, second to it.

"And he turned and left that house, and never came there again," Luna finished quietly. "And his son and his wife looked at their two beautiful children and wondered upon which of them the doom should fall, and how, and when." She looked across the table at them, some trick of the light making her eyes glow momentarily a green as brilliant as Harry's or as Alex's own. "But even their worst imaginings could not encompass the full cruelty of Salazar Slytherin's curse. For when at last it took effect and their young son did die, it happened under such circumstances as made his sister blame herself, though she had been faced with an impossible choice and an eyeblink of time in which to make it. And ever after, all her life long, the soul of their beloved daughter bled from a wound which could not heal…"

Beloved daughter, Draco's mind supplied in the silence which followed this last pronouncement. That's the second time she's said it like that. Does that just mean Alex and his wife really loved her a lot, or is there something more to it?

Luna blinked once, restoring her eyes to their usual soft blue-gray, though tears glistened in their corners, threatening to spill over at any second. "That was even more sad than I thought it was going to be," she said, picking up her napkin. "Slytherin really wasn't a nice wizard at all, was he?"

Draco sat back, letting his thoughts race, as Danger rounded the table in three strides and closed her arms around Luna, maneuvering them in some way known only to mothers so that they ended up sitting together in the chair with Luna's face against Danger's shoulder. Usually in prophecies and such, at least the sort we seem to get, a descriptor being connected with somebody more than once is a pun on the meaning of their name. Calling me the dragon or Harry the warrior or Pearl… well, the pearl. A smile touched his lips momentarily. So we're looking for a girl's name that means "beloved". Not that it really matters what her name was, since she lived a thousand years ago…

And aren't we dealing with the fallout of a thousand years ago every day in this war? whispered the annoyingly rational part of his mind, the part which so often sounded like his twin. Shouldn't we know as much about the people who lived then as we can, to see if we can keep from repeating their mistakes?

Shutting his eyes so that he could roll them without being seen, Draco considered the question. "Beloved". Well, since it is the wizarding world, let's start with the obvious. Latin. Amo, amas, amat—

His eyes flew open. Danger was looking at him steadily. When she saw that she had his attention, she mouthed a single word. Slowly, Draco nodded.

Amanda.

The name is Amanda.

But that doesn't mean Amanda Smythe has anything to do with anything. Just because she has red hair and green eyes—

Don't forget her little brother, murmured the annoying voice again. Her little Slytherin brother, whose name is Matt. What's that short for, I wonder? Could it possibly be… Matthias?

Suddenly fed up with his thoughts, Draco stood up, sending his chair skidding backwards across the floor. "Back in a moment," he mumbled, and hurried out the door into the passage, and from there out into the narrow alleyway behind the Pepper Pot. Full dark had fallen, and he leaned back to stare up at the bleak sky overhead, breathing heavily through his teeth.

"It's a load of coincidences, that's all," he said aloud when he had some semblance of control back. "If the name and the looks didn't match, I'd be finding something else that did. Amanda's alive, she's real, she belongs in the here and now. She's not any crazy Inferius or soul-fragment from a thousand years ago. She's my…" He stalled slightly on the word, and finally settled for a slightly lame-sounding, "…friend. Not to mention one of our yearmates. That's all. That's it."

And if you believe that, I have a self-spelling wand to sell you.

"Speaking of spells." Draco planted his hands in the small of his back and stretched. "And I thought I had daddy problems. That… that was twisted. Fitting, if you look at it from his point of view, but utterly twisted and so incredibly wrong from anywhere else in the world."

Also possibly an explanation for the long string of only children in the Malfoy line. His curiosity had got the better of him after Letha had repaired the Black family tapestry, and he had sneaked a look into Nature's Nobility to see if he could find an equivalent for the Malfoys. Hardly any of my ancestors had so much as two kids, and that was mostly when a daughter came first. He made a face. Must continue the sacred name at all costs, mustn't we?

"But if we really do descend from the Beauvois," he murmured, twisting his shoulders, "even diagonally with a side helping of murder, the tradition of only having one child might have come down from them too, and we'd have kept it up without asking why, because we're purebloods and that's what purebloods do. They keep up traditions and they don't ask questions and they always, always do as they're told."

Unless they're renegades. Troublemakers. Freaks, misfits, outcasts even. Like the Weasleys, like Padfoot and Aunt Andy, like Corona and Maya and Blaise and Selena. He grinned. And like me. Troublemaker extraordinaire.

It's a good thing to be, said a different voice in the back of his mind. As long as you're willing to pay the price.

"I thought you might be turning up right about now." Draco went to one knee to retie a loose shoelace. "So, is it true?"

Is what true? The story Luna told you? Oh, that's true enough. Alex's tone was bleak and bitter, as chill as a snow-laden wind in January. You descending from the Beauvois? Also true. Your ancestor, incidentally, was an ungrateful little git. But that's neither here nor there.

"No, it's not, and you're avoiding the question." Draco pulled his bow taut and got back to his feet. "Is Amanda…" He stopped to consider his wording. "Should we be worried about her?"

Not… exactly, Alex said after a pause so long Draco had begun to wonder if he was getting an answer at all. She does have her own agenda, but she isn't evil, and she won't betray you, or the year, by being what she is or doing what she must. And I'd tell you not to get involved with her, but it's much too late for that, isn't it?

"'Fraid so." Draco poked a finger through a hole in one of his pockets. "Do I at least get to know what she is, or is that one of those classified secrets I have to be admitted to your special club to learn?"

You're not in love with a ghost, if that's what you're asking. Though crazy she may well be. Alex sighed heavily. How about this. I'll tell you everything you want to know about Amanda, answer every question you've got, on the day your spell-breaking year is over. Sound fair?

"You're proposing it, of course it doesn't sound fair. But it's probably the best deal I'm going to get, so I'll take it." Draco shook hands with himself. "There. Done. Any recommendations about the Cabinet, or is that our problem?"

Other than "Buy it before a Death Eater does"? I think you'll work it out. Alex chuckled wearily. Go enjoy your life, troublemaker. Or should I say Fantastic Mr. Fox?

"Oh, you like that? I thought it was pretty fitting, myself." Draco struck a pose. "Luna's not sure yet if she wants to go as Matilda or as Violet Beauregard. And I know Neville and Meghan have settled on something, because they keep sneaking off together to work on it."

Don't they do that all the time anyway?

Draco snorted a laugh. "Too true. Ron and Neenie haven't picked yet, as far as I know, but there's still a month to go so there's no great rush…"

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Author Notes:

Yes, the chapter ends with Draco and Alex gossiping about Halloween costumes. They both need a moment of normal, and that's about as close as either of them is going to get.

Not much to report here. Still no word on publishing A Widow in Waiting, but I should be hearing soon. I'll be letting everyone know as soon as I do, so keep an eye on both my author's notes and on the Facebook page.

The recipe for peanut butter sauce as given in this chapter should make enough for one pound of pasta. It is a very "loose" or "wet" sauce, so don't worry if it seems watery. You may also want to dress your cooked pasta with a bit of peanut or sesame oil before adding the sauce to it. Enjoy!