The Family Name
By Elbereth in April
It was Artemis Fowl's influence that led to the holding of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. As events had conspired over the summer to prevent Artemis from finding a new place in Hogwarts to practice alchemy in secret, he figured that the Tournament would keep everyone occupied while he searched the castle. The officials were unaware of the boy genius's subtle leading, of course, just the way he wanted.
As no one else was aware of the upcoming event yet, the talk on the Hogwarts Express revolved around what everyone had done over the summer. In one compartment, Fowl sat with Zabini, Chevalier, and Bole. In another, Malfoy sat with Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode, and Parkinson. None of them was particularly happy about Fowl and Malfoy's continuing rift, but nothing was said.
Marie had a new owl that she had used to communicate with Blaise all summer. She sent her over to ask the others how they'd been. Most of them had seen each other at the Quidditch World Cup, but Millie and Fowl hadn't been there, and she hadn't had a chance to actually talk to Malfoy.
Draco unrolled her note and read it out loud. "To all, how were your summers? What did you think of the to-do at the World Cup? What are your plans this year?"
They took turns replying at the bottom of the page. Absorbed in this, none of them noticed Malfoy's far-away look. He was thinking back.
--He'd been excited about the chance to see the World Cup. Even being there with his father couldn't quite dampen the anticipation. He followed his parents to the seats they'd been saved by the Minister. Unfortunately, they turned out to be right behind the Weasleys, Granger, Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.
It was an intensely awkward moment. Draco wouldn't have minded saying hello and finding out what they'd been up to, but he knew better. It would make his father furious.
For the moment, Lucius was ignoring them, focusing on the Minister, shaking his hand. "Ah, Fudge," he said, "how are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or my son, Draco?"
"How do you do?" Fudge smiled and bowed to Narcissa. "Actually, Draco and I met during that unfortunate incident at Hogwarts two years ago. The whole—Chamber thing." Fudge grimaced. "But, never mind! Lovely to see you all!"
Lucius gave his son a level look. "Ah, yes. The—Chamber thing."
Draco barely managed not to flinch away.
"Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Obansk—er, well, he's Bulgarian and can't understand us. Anyway. Oh, well, of course you know Sirius Black, Mrs. Malfoy…"
Narcissa gave her fake society party smile. "Hello, cousin."
"Cousin?" Potter blurted out.
"Didn't you know, Potter? Your godfather is the son of my grandfather's brother." Draco smirked, unable to help himself. "I told you to learn more about wizarding culture. That includes noble lineages."
Black patted Potter's shoulder. "I'll show you my family tree sometime—yours, too."
"Hello, Draco. Are you keeping up with your studies?" Lupin asked, trying to keep things civil.
"He's not a professor anymore," Lucius corrected maliciously. Of course, being on the Board of Governors, he'd learned about Remus's werewolf status and how the Aurors had forced him to resign.
Fudge continued on obliviously. "Oh, and you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"
The tension ratcheted up as Lucius and Arthur locked eyes. Lucius shook his head insultingly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box, Arthur? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"
Strangely, Draco didn't feel like smirking at this. It was just, well, the money insults were getting old and boring. Couldn't they come up with something else? But he'd been trained to sneer when his father gave the right cue, so he did. Potter and Granger were both looking at him and his family with unveiled disgust. He smirked at Potter as a matter of course.
Now Granger and his father were staring at each other. His father despised Muggle-born. Draco shifted uncomfortably.
Black moved to partially block their view of one another. "You shouldn't stare at young girls," he hissed, only loud enough for Lupin and the Malfoy men to hear. "People might get ideas about you."
Lucius recoiled with a venomous glare. "You're the criminal, Black."
Remus cleared his throat. "I'm looking forward to this match," he said loudly. "It should be quite a game."
"Oh yes," said Fudge. "Quite a spectacle, I'm sure."
Suddenly Granger smiled at Draco. "Artemis is doing well. We've e-mailed a few times over the summer."
Draco stiffened. First, he didn't want to hear about Fowl. But second, his father would not be happy to think he was on friendly terms with a Mudblood.
Draco raised his chin. "I am uninterested in Fowl," he sneered at her, doing his best to project an air of 'how dare you speak to me.' It must have worked, for she looked offended. Her two best friends scowled at him.
"Come, Draco," Lucius commanded with a last contemptuous look at the party in general, and swept away. Narcissa followed.
Draco gave Hermione a half-apologetic grimace once his father's back was turned, and found his seat with the image of her confused, somewhat taken aback expression.
The game was superb. What followed was horrifying. Death Eaters causing chaos and destruction. The torture of a Muggle family. The Dark Mark floating overhead.
Of course, the Fab Trio would be in the midst of it all.
Draco had wandered out into the confusion, trying to find out what all the noise was about. People were screaming. Dark figures were roaming through the trees. Wizards with masks on had used magic to float a Muggle family in the air—a man, woman, and child. They were flipping them upside down when Draco had to look away. And the first thing he saw was the three Gryffindors.
Weasley had just tripped and fallen on the ground, which, while amusing, didn't relieve Draco's feelings of wrongness about this whole situation. It was one thing to dislike Muggles, with their persecution of witches and polluting of the bloodlines, weakening the magic, but he couldn't condone this. His disapproval was, in many ways, a shock to his own self.
But looking at the three of them now, he found impatience rising up as the strongest emotion in the mish-mash of his feelings, because… "Are you stupid? Granger, you need to keep out of sight!"
They jumped, startled by his voice, and turned to face him. "Malfoy!"
"What? Why?" Hermione demanded.
"They're after your kind," he said sharply, as if she was a child. "Do you want to join the lady in showing off your knickers? They're headed this way."
"Hermione's a witch," Potter snapped.
Draco shook his head. "They can pick out a Mudblood, you know."
Ron stepped toward him, fists clenched. "Watch your mouth!"
"I'm trying to look out for her!"
Granger pulled Weasley back. "Yes, why is that, Malfoy?"
Draco's mouth opened and closed. "I don't want this!" He waved his arm in the direction of the Muggles.
"Sure you do," Weasley snarled. "You want to become a Death Eater like your daddy. You want to be over there with those mask-wearers—"
"Right, cause that explains why I killed Tom Riddle!"
They all stared at each other tensely.
A loud bang was heard in the distance. More people screamed.
"Look, we should find Sirius," Harry said.
"If you really want to keep me safe, why don't you come with us?" Hermione offered suddenly. "Wouldn't they listen to a Pureblood like you if you told them to back off?"
It was a test of some kind, Draco supposed. Fine. He was up to anything they threw at him. "All right."
"Hermione," Weasley complained immediately.
"No, let's have him where we can keep an eye on him."
"Four-eyes, in your case, Potter."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
They walked further along the path among the trees. A number of people were milling about, looking nervous, but no one they knew. They passed a huddle of teenagers in pajamas. One girl stopped them, saying, "Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue—"
"Er—what?" Ron responded.
"Oh… 'Ogwarts." She turned her back on them.
"Beauxbatons," Hermione said.
"What?" Potter scratched his head.
"They must go to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, in France. I read about it…"
"They asked if we knew where their Headmaster was," Draco informed them casually.
"You speak French?"
"I am intelligent, you know. My father made sure I had a proper education."
"Yeah, in the Dark Arts," Ron muttered. He was ignored. They started walking again.
"Oh no, I've lost my wand!" Potter exclaimed suddenly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "You are an idiot. How have you survived this long?"
Draco and Hermione both had their wands out and lit, to better see the path. Weasley quickly checked for his. He gave a sigh of relief at finding it, and pulled it out. "Lumos."
They checked the path around them. No wand.
"Maybe you left it in the tent."
"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running."
"Maybe you'll never see it again," Draco drawled comfortably.
Potter glared at him.
Then the bushes in front of them rustled. A house elf fell out of them, moving strangely, as if something invisible were holding her back. She jumped up and made to keep running. "There is bad wizards about! Winky is getting out of the way!" she squeaked, disappearing into the trees on the other side of the path.
"Why can't she run right?" Weasley frowned, puzzled.
"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," Potter replied.
"House elves get a very raw deal!" Granger exclaimed, full of indignation. "It's slavery! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"
"Well, they're happy, though," Weasley said.
"It's people like you, Ron, who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to—"
"This is hardly the time for a discussion as stupid as this one," Draco said, not without a bit of fascination and amusement. "Keep moving."
They reluctantly conceded this was a good idea.
When they reached the heart of the wood, it became quieter. No other people were around here. They looked around, happy to be somewhere quiet. "Think we should stay—" Ron began, but stopped as a figure burst through the clearing. It was Sirius Black, looking somewhat wild-eyed, but when he saw Harry, he relaxed in relief.
"There you are," he said, "I've been looking everywhere."
Potter smiled widely. "We've been looking for you." He hugged the older man.
"Do you know what's happ—" Ron was interrupted once again.
"Hush. I hear footsteps."
They all listened. It sounded as if someone was staggering toward their clearing. Sirius raised his wand, but the footsteps abruptly stopped.
"Who's there?" Sirius called cautiously.
Silence. Then a loud voice shouted, "Morsmorde!"
And a green light rent the darkness from where they'd all been peering, a vast, glittering green rose above the trees and into the sky—a huge skull, made of green stars, with a serpent coming out of its mouth.
All around them in the woods, people began to scream.
"The Dark Mark," Draco breathed.
"What?" Potter was still scanning the darkness, looking for whoever had conjured the spell.
With a roar, Black charged straight for that spot.
Potter started to run after him, but Hermione grabbed his arm. "Harry, no! It's You-Know-Who's sign!"
"All the more reason to help!" Potter shook her off and moved to follow.
Before he could go more than half a step, 20 wizards had popped into existence around them. They pushed Black back into the clearing with the teenagers.
"Duck!" Potter yelled, registering the 20 wands pointed at them. Quickly, they all dropped to the ground, just as the wizards exclaimed, "Stupefy!" The spells flashed directly above them as they hit the ground, with a rush of wind and a burst of red light, from 20 different points. The spells criss-crossed each other, bouncing off trees and rebounding into the dark.
'Come with us, she said,' Draco thought. 'Sure, I said. What was I thinking? I should have known they'd head straight into trouble and drag me along!'
"Stop!" one wizard suddenly shouted. "That's my son!"
It was Mr. Weasley. He lowered his wand, looking terrified. "Are you all okay?"
He broke the circle, striding toward them, but was brushed aside by Mr. Crouch and the other Ministry wizards.
"I should have known," hissed Mr. Crouch, jaw tight with rage. "Sirius Black. You're a criminal after all. You conjured the Dark Mark."
"What!" Potter exclaimed, as Black scowled and snapped, "No, I did not!"
"And yet, here you are, at the scene of the crime," Crouch purred.
Potter sprang to his feet. "He didn't do anything!"
"I hardly think you are an unbiased witness," sneered another wizard. "He is your godfather, I've been told." Draco recognized the man as the Auror, Bledstoe, who wanted to kill Lupin during Pettigrew's escape last year.
"How about me?" Draco stood, too, eyes narrowed with dislike. "Black was with us; we know he didn't cast anything. The Mark came from over there. We heard the incantation."
"He's your second cousin." Bledstoe and Crouch didn't look even remotely believing, although one or two others seemed inclined to listen.
"Why don't you at least investigate over there?" Granger suggested, looking angry as she and Ron also got to their feet.
"Yeah," Weasley said. "I'm a Ministry official's son. I'm a reliable witness."
One wizard scratched his beard, shrugged, and approached the indicated spot.
Black stood up now. The others all tightened their grips on their wands. "Just cast Prior Incantatum on my wand," he demanded angrily. "I didn't conjure anything. That'll prove it."
The wizards shifted uncomfortably. "That's true," a witch spoke up. "Prior Incantatum should show it, one way or the other."
"There is someone here!" the bearded wizard called, disappearing into the trees and then returning, carrying a tiny unconscious figure.
"It's that house elf," Draco blurted.
"Your house elf, Mr. Crouch," said the wizard, placing her on the ground next to Mr. Weasley. "She had a wand." He held it up.
Mr. Crouch turned pale, then went to investigate the spot where she'd been found. "There was no one else there," Bearded Wizard informed the group.
"That's my wand!" Potter exclaimed. "I dropped it earlier—before we entered the woods."
"What a coincidence," Draco drawled. It just figured.
Potter glared at him.
"It is interesting," said Bearded Wizard, "but I hardly think Harry Potter conjured the Dark Mark."
There were nods all around.
Mr. Weasley addressed Bearded Wizard. "Mr. Diggory, why don't you Enervate the house elf so we can ask her what happened."
Crouch returned from the clearing as Diggory raised his wand, just as Mr. Bagman Apparated into the clearing. "What's going on?" he asked, looking all around.
"First, if you would be so kind as to give me your wand, Mr. Black?"
"Sirius Black cast the Dark Mark!" Bagman squealed, hiding behind Mr. Weasley.
"That's what we are attempting to determine," said Diggory sternly. "Now, the wand in my left hand is Black's. The wand in my right hand was found with the house elf, Winky. I will cast Prior Incantatum on both wands. Then we will revive and question the elf."
Everyone nodded. Draco noticed that the wizards' wands were still pointing unwaveringly at Black. He had to admit it did look suspicious, to the general public.
"I will begin with Black's wand," Diggory continued. He cast the spell. "Prior Incantato!"
The first spell that emerged was "lumos", followed by the one used to set up their tent. Potter unconsciously let out the breath he'd been holding. Some of the wizards looked disappointed.
Diggory cancelled the spell. "Now Mr. Potter's wand. Prior Incanto!"
Granger gasped as the skull and serpent erupted from the wand. Diggory quickly cancelled it. "So," he said into the wizards' murmurings, "let us wake the elf."
He did so. "Elf!" he roared as she woke, looking around and starting to shake. "I am with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! You have been caught red-handed with the wand that cast the Dark Mark!"
Winky burst into hysterical sobs. "I is not doing it, sir," she pleaded. "I is not knowing how, sir!"
"Where did you find my wand, Winky?" Potter interjected gently.
Winky looked at him. "There… in the trees, sir…"
"It's not likely a house elf would know that spell," Mr. Weasley put in. "Where would she learn it?"
"I certainly do not make it a policy to teach it to my house elves," Mr. Crouch said angrily.
"No, of course not," Diggory stuttered as Crouch turned his thunderous glare on him.
"It wasn't an elf's voice," Granger added. "It was a deep, human voice."
Her friends nodded.
"Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which would betray them. And Winky had the misfortune to come across the wand a few moments later and pick it up." Weasley looked at her with sympathy.
"They may have Disapparated," Bledstoe agreed, "or they may have walked out of the trees and calmly joined their godson…"
"I object!" Black shouted.
"He would, after all, have been able to get ahold of his godson's wand to use, easily enough…"
"You have no proof! You're just making accusations!" Black was furious.
So was Potter. "It wasn't his voice. I know his voice. And besides, he wouldn't do that."
"Elf," Diggory cut in, "did you see anyone? You would have been only a few feet away from the culprit."
Winky swallowed hard. "I is seeing no one, sir… no one…" she answered shakily.
The wizards continued to stare suspiciously at Black.
"He's right, there's no proof of any wrong-doing on Black's part," Arthur said.
"Not to mention the witnesses who saw him standing, spell-free, when the Mark was cast." Draco crossed his arms. "The ones you're ignoring. Hello, I'm a Malfoy. The Minister of Magic himself wouldn't doubt my word. Now can we all go back to our tents?"
There was a tense moment. Then, "I will deal with Winky," Crouch said curtly. "I ordered her to remain in the tent and she disobeyed. I will be giving her clothes." A dismissal.
"No!" Winky fell at Crouch's feet. "Not clothes, master!"
"But she was frightened!" Granger protested. "You can't blame her!"
Crouch simply regarded her coldly. "I have no use for a disobedient house elf who forgets her master's reputation."
Bledstoe scowled at Black. "I'll be watching you."
Crouch nodded. "As will I."
Sirius shrugged with casual unconcern. "Yeah, whatever. Come on kids, let's go."
"I'll accompany you." Mr. Weasley said. "But first, if Harry could have his wand back, please."
"But what will happen to Winkey?" Hermione demanded.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Granger, remember—no time for stupid discussions?"
"I said I will deal with her, girl," Crouch snapped.
"Come on, Hermione," Mr. Weasley insisted sharply, his nerves making him tense.
As soon as they'd left the clearing, Granger resumed her rant about elf rights. Draco raised his voice above hers. "Right, well, as fun as this hasn't been, I'll be going back to my own tent now."
"There could still be dangerous people out there," Black objected. "You need to stay with us till we get back to camp."
"Yes, where are your parents?"
Draco didn't know and didn't want to know. "We got separated."
"Well, we'll escort you back to your tent," Mr. Weasley declared.
He did not want his father to see him with this group again. "That's not necessary. I'll be fine."
"Yeah, he's a Malfoy. He's the safest one here," Ron said snidely.
"Ron!" Weasley's father reprimanded him, to his embarrassment. Draco smirked on reflex. Ron changed the subject.
"Where are the others?" Meaning the other Weasleys, Draco supposed.
"They should be back at the tent by now. Remus, too."
Draco sighed and resigned himself to being delivered to his door. It would have all come out anyway—a number of those Ministry wizards reported to his father.
As they reached his tent, the door flap opened and Lucius Malfoy stepped out, a disdainful expression on his face. "What's all this, then?"
"We came across each other in the woods," Black explained, head high. "We thought we should make sure he got back safely."
"I told them they didn't need to, but they were determined," Draco said in his best upper-class accent.
Lucius looked him over. Draco repressed a shiver.
"You keep interesting company of late, Draco," Lucius noted in that same drawl.
"Oh, it was definitely not intentional," Ron muttered.
Lucius' eyes tracked lazily over to him. "Yes. One would hope."
Mr. Weasley shifted angrily.
Behind them a woman laughed, and the tent flap lifted again. "Sirius could hardly leave his family to wander in the night, now could he?" Narcissa brushed her hand over Lucius' arm, a mocking light in her eyes when she looked at Black.
Black scowled at them both. "Right."
"I trust there will be no more midnight rendezvous, Draco, hmm?" Lucius' stare was intense.
"No, Father," he answered quickly.
"And were you out and about, Lucius? What did you see tonight? Perhaps—up close?" Mr. Weasley burst out.
"Are you insinuating something?" Lucius hissed, taking a step closer to Arthur.
Narcissa stepped forward again. "I'm sure he's simply referring to your closeness to Minister Fudge, and your position within the Ministry. It should be obvious to all that you and the Minister would have been together, working to clear up tonight's… situation."
Arthur looked like he'd bit into something sour. "Of course." He looked at the teenagers. "Let's go," he said shortly.
The group trudged away. Narcissa looked at Lucius. "Go inside, Draco."
Draco moved to slip inside at once.
"Don't go to sleep," his father said, freezing him. "We still have much to… discuss."
The next morning's headlines put his father in a better mood, however. The Daily Prophet ran an article, "Sirius Black once again a suspect—Coincidence or sinister plot?" It amused both his parents to no end.
SS SS SS
Draco came back to himself with a start when Millicent thrust the parchment and quill at him. Oh yes, the reply to Chevalier. "Did all the usual," he wrote, and that was all.