The Brightest Black

The last few days of the holiday were a rush of activity. Draco tried to stay out of most of it, but was unable to. He constantly found himself at dinner tables surrounded by people that had hated his father, but seemed to really like him.

And he never seemed to be alone. The closest he came to that was when he was in the shower.

And even then, he was half-afraid Hermione would shoot him a question about something.

Who knew being magically chained to someone could be so potentially mortifying?

After the second shower interruption, he began to tell her when he was taking a shower. That way she left him alone.

That didn’t stop him from accidentally thinking to her when she was in the shower once.

That event had prompted them to sit down and make up a few social rules. They also agreed to only touch and enter each other’s minds when they had someone trustworthy around to watch their back. Ginger had been right, it wasn’t good to just do that anywhere.

And they never followed the chain between their minds without permission anymore. Not since she had accidentally seen Harry in just his pants as the two were getting ready for bed.

Not that Draco had been looking at Harry, the Gryffindor had just been in his field of vision.

He visited Pansy twice more during the week, each time the mind-healers swore she was getting better, but Draco saw no improvement when he looked through the window.

He spoke with Longbottom during those visits, actually getting to know him. Learning just how much the Gryffindor cared about Pansy, though the two refused to put labels on their relationship.

His constant interaction with the other New Marauders meant that when they all boarded the Hogwarts Express at King’s Cross he thought nothing of joining the Gryffindors and Luna in the last car of the train - Theo at his side.

Twenty minutes into the ride, when Draco was busy reading, the compartment door opened to reveal Tracey and Blaise.

Tracey looked supremely pissed off, and Blaise appeared to be on the warpath.

“THEODORE ARTICULUS NOTT!!!”

Tracey’s voice pierced through the suddenly silent area, allowing the rattling glass to be her only accompaniment.

“Just what is going on?” Blaise practically hissed.

Theo opened and closed his mouth several times, at a complete loss. But that didn’t stop Blaise from continuing.

“Not one letter! Not one! Not since that bloody battle! We didn’t even know if you were dead or alive! Nothing!”

That was when the ever-nosy Tracy saw Theodore’s hand. Well, rather she realized she could only see one, as the other was hidden under a black glove.

She was across the compartment in a half second, utterly ruining the card game Ginger, Weasley, Luna, and Harry had been playing. Ginger narrowly avoided have her fingers crushed, while Weasley was wincing and holding his side, where Tracey had bumped him.

Luna’s eyes narrowed dangerously at Tracey’s back before she began fussing over Weasley.

“What is this?!?” Tracey said as she grabbed Theo’s hand and yanked it up.

He winced but didn’t stop her from yanking the glove off.

She gasped and took a step backwards, tripping over Ginger and landing in Harry’s lap.

She didn’t move, her horrified eyes focused on the silver hand that Theo was now once again covering in black leather.

“Is that why?” Blaise asked, a ribbon of pain and hurt swept along with his silken voice.

He stepped over the game players, his long legs allowing him to avoid injuring anyone.

Theo didn’t protest, and neither did anyone else as Blaise took his gloved hand and pulled him to his feet, then out of the compartment. Tracey scrambled off Harry’s lap, elbowing him in the abdomen as she did so, and followed them.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Draco sent her a quick thought.

Don’t.

She closed her mouth and looked at him.

Why?

The three are good friends. Practically inseparable down in Slytherin. I didn’t know he hadn’t been writing them. They need to talk.

Alright. I suppose if they were Death Eater sympathizers they wouldn’t attempt anything on the train.

I don’t think they are. Well, I know Tracey isn’t. She’s a half-blood. Her mother is a pureblood Selwyn, but her father was a first-generation half-blood.

What about Zabini?

Draco shrugged, forgetting that such physical movements weren’t used when speaking mind to mind.

I don’t know. Snape warned us to be careful about him. His mother and the rest of their family are always on the winning side. No matter what. But, they are very good friends, and right now we look to be winning, even with Dumbledore dead.

“Point,” she said aloud.

Everyone glared at her, and then at him, knowing that she had only spoken aloud to ensure he got an actual point.

She’d noticed earlier that week that the coin didn’t register nonverbal points.

“Should one of us follow them? I have the cloak,” Harry said.

Luna shook her head, “No. Let them talk. I’ll make sure Davis understands things later.” There was a dangerous thread in Luna’s voice.

She had summoned some water and then frozen it, now the ice was nestled against Weasley’s side.

Draco had an idea what Luna was going to explain, but he was sure he didn’t want to know the details. Some things were better to remain forever unknown. And he’d always admit the pale little Ravenclaw was one of the scariest people at Hogwarts.

The compartment returned to normal then, or what he supposed was normal. Longbottom was playing with a small plant and scribbling things in a pocket-sized notebook, Hermione had her nose buried in a book, and the rest were cleaning up and restarting their game.

He sighed and opened his book, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Everything was too quiet. Too normal.

Well, as normal as the train rides ever got.

It made him wonder what would happen to break that peace. Because something had to.

He just knew it.

Still, there was nothing he could do right now. So, instead of worrying, he pushed the thoughts away and went back to his book.

XXX

As soon as he walked into the Great Hall he knew what was horribly wrong.

And it wasn’t just the lack of a brightly robed and bearded individual at the Head Table.

No.

It was the fact that there was now a fat, squat little witch in robes of pink at the Head Table.

No.

Not just AT the Head Table, but rather sitting smack dab in the middle of the Head Table. In the spot reserved for the Headmistress.

He even recognized the nasty witch.

She’d been at Hogwarts during the Defense exam. He’d seen her, during his own practical exam, but she had said nothing.

It had been quite different for Harry. He’d heard of the nonsense this woman had tried to create.

Claiming Harry would cheat.

Hah!

Harry was possibly the most stubbornly honest Gryffindor in all of Hogwarts. Well, Longbottom might trump him, but it was a close race.

He knew the Ministry was still in denial. His mother was sending constant angry letters, trying to get his father’s body released. The Daily Prophet was full of constant lies. This toad of a woman worked for the Ministry.

No good would come of her being here.

No good at all.

“Hem hem.”

The annoying sound went ignored by the student body, all of them more interested in discussing everything that had occurred during the break to show any interest in the pink toad.

“HEM HEM!”

Draco had to bite on his lip to stop from laughing at the woman’s face as everyone continued to ignore her. She stood up, but it made no difference in her height. She looked around helplessly for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed and she turned pointedly to Professor McGonagall.

A few words were spoken, the Deputy Headmistress’ lips narrowed and turned down, but she nodded and stood up.

As soon as she did so the entire hall grew quiet and every eye was trained on her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to complicated circumstances the Board of Governors is unable to appoint a new Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts until this summer. The Ministry, naturally,” Draco couldn’t help but smirk at the disdain dripping from her voice, “has seen fit to evoke the recently created Educational Decree Twenty-two so as to ensure that no one’s education is disturbed. As such, I would like to introduce Madam Umbridge, our temporary Headmistress.”

You could have dropped a pin in the silence these words evoked.

And then the toad began to speak, and Draco thought he was going to gag. He may not have liked Dumbledore, but the man was leagues above this witch.

Leagues.

“Thank you, boys and girls, for your warm welcome. I may only be a temporary holder of this position, but I am sure I will do great things for Hogwarts while here. In fact, to this end I shall be observing all classes and…”

He tuned her out and looked over at the Gryffindor table to see his fellow New Marauders looking almost as pissed off as Tracey had appeared earlier on the Hogwarts Express.

He leaned over and whispered to Theo, “I think Hogwarts just became a battleground.”

Theo nodded, “Point.”

Hermione, had you heard about this?

No, I’m guessing it’s a last-minute play by the Ministry. Look at Neville’s mum.

He looked up at Mrs. Longbottom and winced. Oh, yes, if looks could kill than the new temporary Headmistress would be as dead as Professor Binns.

I see that. I’m guessing she’ll get no support from the staff.

Indeed. And just wait til I get some research done and write an article. She’ll get no support from anyone then.

He snorted out loud.

I bet she doesn’t have any educational experience.

He saw her lips twist in a humorless smile from across the hall.

I refuse to take that bet.

Smart of you.

She didn’t respond to that, but he knew she had to be thinking and planning.

He reached into his robes and ran a hand over the smooth leather cover of the tome there. The gesture soothed him, gave him a feeling of confidence.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly before turning his steel-like gaze on the new temporary Headmistress, becoming one of the many silently thinking of murder as the speech droned on and on, delaying dinner and earning Umbridge no allies.

If Hogwarts hadn’t just became a battleground, it was only because one side hadn’t realized they had an enemy.

XXX

The silence in the Sixth-year dormitory was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Theo kept throwing looks between Draco and Blaise, obviously torn about something as he slipped into his pajamas.

By the time the light was off and Draco was climbing into his own four-poster bed he was close to snapping.

They really should have worked out whatever was going on back on the train.

Actually, he thought they HAD worked it out. Theo had come back to the compartment before they arrived at Hogsmeade - smiling, no less!

And at dinner he had sat between Draco and Blaise, with Tracey across from him. They had even all spoken quite civilly together once the toad had finally stopped blabbering on and let them eat.

But in the fifteen minutes he had taken to do his evening toilet something had changed.

He snapped his bed curtains shut and sat there in the dark, taking deep, calming breaths before lying down and pulling the soft blankets over himself.

Then, as had somehow become his habit, he shot Hermione a thought.

I’m going to sleep.

Alright, goodnight! I’m heading there myself.

Goodnight.

As he got settled under his warm blankets he forced himself to relax and force all thoughts of chains, the Ministry, and toad women away. It wasn’t easy, and it took him awhile, but he did it.

He felt his breathing change and his mind began to drift away. Then, as he was in that soft, floaty place between real life and dreamland he heard a noise that had him instantly awake.

There was the small clink of bed curtains moving, and then the soft sound of feet padding across the floor before more clinking.

A moment later he heard voices.

“Theo, please…”

“Blaise…”

“He’s asleep.”

There was a rustling of blankets and Draco froze, half-afraid of what he might overhear. But after a minute of rustling all noise ceased and he heard them speak again.

“Goodnight, Blaise.”

“Goodnight, Theo.”

A few minutes later their breathing changed and Draco sat up and looked out of his own bed curtains. The room was dark, but enough light filtered in from the window into the lake that he could see that nothing was different from the way it had been before.

Greg and Vince’s beds were eerily empty and the curtains were closed tightly on Blaise and Theo’s beds.

How long had this been going on? How blind was he to what was going on in his own House?

He was a prefect for Merlin’s sake!

He should…

He should…

But what he should do eluded him, because, ultimately, what did it matter? It’s not like they were doing anything truly inappropriate with him in the room. No, as long as he never saw or heard something that he shouldn’t, he would ignore this.

It was better that way.

Plus, Theo needed people in his life that put him first. And while Draco knew they were friends again, Theo wasn’t first in his life.

No, that spot was reserved for his cousin.

And he was beginning to wonder if anyone would ever take it from her.

He wasn’t saying his mother was right, that her plans were something he agreed with, but after the past two weeks…

Well….

No.

He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

Hermione was his cousin and friend. There was an insane dark lord that wanted them dead and their school was temporarily being run by a woman that made his skin crawl. And she likely wanted them - if not dead - silenced.

There were bigger things to worry and think about.

Safer things.

He pulled the blankets up to his neck and burrowed under them.

Yes, much, much safer things.