The Black Family Secret, Will Draco Ever Discover the Truth? Options

[QuidditchChick]

The Black Family Secret
Chapter 1: Draco’s Suspicion

By QuidditchChick a.k.a. Amber
Draco was, as usual, left to entertain himself. (Which, to the grief of his parents, often times had proved disastrous. It is never wise to leave young wizards all alone in large houses without removal of their wands.) “What do I do now?” he thought as he looked around the library. Volumes of books beckoned for his attention from their oak shelves. Handcrafted bookends in the forms of famous dark wizards kept the books atop their lofty homes. In the center of the floor lay a round green carpet with golden tassels. In the middle stood a single table with a thick book half open on top. On its leather cover was engraved in bold, cursive writing ‘The Malfoy Code of Conduct’. “Oh yes.” Draco thought, “I loathe that book. All its pages filled with rules. I’ve never read anything so boring!” His shoes clacked against the wooden floor. He flipped the pages and began to read aloud. “A Malfoy must always assert his presence in a powerful manner. His companions should have no doubt of his heritage.” His nose wrinkled slightly at the thought. “Rules, rules, rules. That’s all I ever hear. Don’t do this; always do this…will it ever end?” He cast a glance at his father’s favorite chair. A smirk played across his lips.
He flung himself into the great leather seat. He held his wand like a scepter, and began shaking it furiously, “You should know better, son! I am always right.” He laughed. “Hmph. One day this will be my chair, and I will preside over Malfoy business.” As the thought of being head Malfoy puffed his chest, something caught his eye. In one of his father’s reading books was a corner of…something poking out the side. His eyebrow rose, along with his curiosity. He inserted his wand between the pages. Slowly he pried it open. Inside laid an old letter with crisp folds. The edges were worn, as though it had been read many times. He looked at the pages of the book on which it rested. It was the Malfoy family line, a record of everyone that had ever been born into the related blood lines. On this page was written,

Bellatrix Black----Rudolphus Lestrange.
|_____________|
|
? Lestrange

“Hmm. That’s interesting. I wonder where their child is…if it’s even alive. They’re both in Azkaban…” He sat back in the leather chair, and opened the letter. On it was scrawled, in red ink, one word…

[QuidditchChick]

Chapter 2: Meeting at the Three Broomsticks


Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in through the door of the Three Broomsticks. They loved the cheery atmosphere that clung to the old pub. Madame Rosemerta was quick to welcome them in and show them to a booth. As they sat down, Harry noticed a pair of familiar faces occasionally sneaking a gaze at him.

“Hey, Ron, aren’t those two Fred and George? They look as though they’re up to something.”

“Yeah, it’s them. They always look like that, though. Gets old really…” he trailed off into thought as he reached for his mug of butterbeer.

“I think someone should go see what they’re up to.” snapped Hermione. “They could lose us points!” Hermione insisted.

“Nah. They never get caught.” Ron replied. “They’ve been in the business too long.” he said with a chuckle. “It’d be bad for their reputation.”

Harry nodded in agreement. Fred and George may have done some rotten stuff, but they were the only ones who could get away with it. He just hoped the next prank didn’t involve him. He rubbed his pocket in admiration. “I ought to use this map more often.” he thought to himself.

“I’ll top that off.” said a kind voice. Harry looked up to see someone who looked very much like Madame Rosemerta, but much younger. It was Briar Rosemerta, Madame Rosemerta’s daughter. She had auburn hair that looked as though it were made of springs. She had a few freckles, and a loud, joyful laugh. She was usually found tagging around Fred and George. She was also a chaser on the Ravenclaw quidditch team. “Well, it’s nice to be able to serve you face to face and not through that…” her voice dropped down to a whisper, “invisibility cloak.” Ron shifted in his seat slightly, and Hermione’s face turned guilty and worrisome.

“Y-you knew about that?” Harry asked, slightly intrigued.

“Of course. I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”

“Oh…” Harry thoughts turned to his pocket. He wondered if she knew about the map too. He knew she could get him in trouble. Briar was a prefect and head girl. Not only that, she was a Ravenclaw, and a stickler for rules…that is unless it involved Fred and George.

“I mean, how many levitating bloodpops leave foot prints?” she stated. Harry winced. He knew he hadn’t been too careful when sneaking out, but he hadn’t realized he had outright obvious.

“Wait!” Harry asked confused. “If you knew I was here against the rules why didn’t I get detention or points taken?”

“Oh come one. All work and no play makes Jack a dull wizard. Besides, it’s not your fault you’re a newbie at this. I’ll give you a year or two to learn the ropes.” She gave a sly smile. “But after that, no mercy.” Harry didn’t like that last part. He’d better learn how to sneak out correctly and fast.

“So, Harry, I’ll be on the field tomorrow. You’ve got a practice too, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, Angelina would kill me if I didn’t practice before the game.” Harry’s voice drifted off. Angelina’s practices were nearing murderous as of late. She had been overly authoritative, and pushed them to try and do things well beyond a normal players limit. She was determined to win the house cup this year, and she didn’t want anything to stop her.

“You’ll have to forgive her, Harry. She’s just stressed.” she said as she laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You know how important quidditch is to her.” Briar noticed the arrival of Fred and George.

“Hey, Briar, we need to, um, discuss something with you.” Fred said with a gleam in his eye.

“I don’t like it when you discuss things. Sometimes it’s just…scary.” Ron looked greatly worried.

Briar finished filling all of their mugs, patted Ron on the head with a smirk, and then scurried over to Fred and George’s table (which was very conveniently in the darkest corner of the pub).

Just then, Draco and his usual crowd of cronies walked in the through the door. They strode with an air of confidence and smugness that killed the joy in the room. The laughter at the trio’s table abruptly died, along with their jovial spirits. “Great. He only comes here to cause trouble…” Ron’s thoughts trailed off.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked curiously.

He shook his head as he remembered a certain experience. “Well, one time he came in here and when Briar came to fill their mugs, he ‘accidentally’ knocked his mug off the table, spilling butterbeer everywhere. She cleaned it up right away with her wand, but still, he’s a ruddy nuisance.”

Briar saw the group of Slytherins enter, and with of sigh of complaint got up to serve them lunch. She hustled about, bringing drinks and food or whatever their selfish stomachs desired. The entire time, Draco was muttering about the poor service, or saying “If my father were here…” Needless to say, as they asked for the check, Briar was quite relieved.

“Oh, right. Before I go, I suppose I should leave a tip.” Malfoy said behind a malicious sneer. “I guess this will suffice for today’s service.” He nudged Crabbe with his elbow and nodded his head toward the table. Faint rumbling bellowed from him and Goyle. Some called it laughter; others thought they sounded like incoherent trolls with a stomach ache. Briar scowled at the mere two knuts. Fred and George noticed the scene, and their brows furrowed and they started a huddle.

“Well!” Briar called out loudly. “Aren’t you being generous today Mr. Malfoy.” she scoffed. Far too many times had she been sorely stiffed by him, and her normal cool-headedness had finally worn out.

“Why yes, actually. I was feeling rather…” he glanced around at his friends before continuing, “…charitable.” Roarious laughter filled the small pub as scores of eyes looked up from their tables and booths to see the source of the commotion. Pansy’s shrill shriek was hovering above all other noise.

“Well, I hate to seem rude, but your charity isn’t needed here. Take your money someplace else.” she swiftly flung the knuts back at him. Draco was lucky enough to dodge them, but one of the stray knuts hit Goyle right between the eyes. He cringed in shock and pain. A small, blue-green bruise rapidly broke out on his forehead.

“Ouch.” muttered Fred between chuckles.

“Yes.” replied George. “It was her quidditch arm, too.”

Crabbe cracked his knuckles threateningly and Draco stepped to the front as if to speak for the group. “You think that you’re funny? You think you can get away with this, do you? You better hope I don’t get my father involved.”

She stood, arms akimbo, and poised herself ready for action. “Is that all you ever do? Threaten people with your dad? I hope your father does get involved. He’d see to it that you don’t hang out in these sorts of places. You know, where wizards or witches with impure blood hang out. In fact, I might never have to see your pale face again, you little twerp!”

“I don’t need my father to take care of you!” Draco whipped his wand from under his dark green cloak and pointed it at her with a sneer that dared another word be spoken. In answer her wand was at the ready, and an oddly friendly smile was playing across her lips. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood to their feet, as they watched the staring match. Draco wanted nothing more than blast that sickening sweet smile off the freckled face…he raised his arm…

“That’s enough!” a high-pitched voice shrieked from behind. “Put those wands down now! I’ll have none of this bickering in my pub, and you should know better, young lady.” Madame Rosemerta sprinted from the back. Draco smiled. He had won for now…or so he thought. Madame Rosemerta perceived this, and with a faint smile suggested, “If you must duel, do it outside darling. I don’t have a problem with that.” Draco’s countenance fell—nearly to the floor. He really didn’t expect to have to duel that moment.

“Yes!” said Fred and George simultaneously. It was Briar’s turn to smile now. She gently tucked her wand into her waitress’ apron and headed for the side door.

“They’re going to duel?” asked Hermione. “What if someone gets hurt?”

“Yeah, but what if that someone is Malfoy?” answered Ron.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” said Harry with a grin.

“Why, aren’t you coming, Malfoy?” She said his name with hint of maliciousness that made Draco twinge. Fred and George were already in close pursuit. Malfoy stammered looking for something to do or say. Finally, he turned on one heel towards the door.

“Let’s go, Crabbe, Goyle.” He barked. As they neared the door, Fred muttered something under his breath that sounded like counting…only backwards.

“…three…two…one…”

A loud hissing noise erupted from the doorway, and following the sound was a horrid smell coupled with pale green smoke. Coughing and sputtering out the doorway, Draco and his friends stammered outside. “We’ll…cough…cough…get you back!!!…cough…cough…”

Fred, George, and Briar were all doubled over with laughter.

“Oh man I love weekends…” sighed Ron as he watched the Slytherins through the window, waving their arms furiously as if to usher the smell someplace else.

“Yeah, me too.” Harry grinned.