𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄

Chapter 18

Chapter 18: "Chapter Eighteen"

When Draco had passed the house next door that evening, he had looked in at the window, which was, for once, not covered by the curtain, and had seen the inside of the room. "It has been rather a long time since I saw such a nice place from the inside," he murmured aloud, shifting the package in his arms. He admired the beautiful, warm fire, the comfortable furniture, the elegant room arrangement, and let his eyes fix for a moment on the slumped shoulders of the Indian Gentleman.

"Poor man," he murmured. "I wonder what you are supposing."

Inside, Snape was hunched over, his face in his hands, and was supposing this: Suppose - even if Weasley traces the people to Moscow - the boy they took from Monsieur Pascal's school in Paris is not the one we are in search of. Suppose he proves to be a different child altogether. What steps shall I take next?

When Draco entered the Seminary, he was met by Fudge, who was looking at him with a very severe gaze. "Where have you wasted your time?" he snapped. "You have been out for hours."

Draco kept his eyes lowered, although his face whitened a bit with anger. "It was so wet and muddy out," he replied, struggling to keep his voice even, "and it was hard to walk, because my shoes slipped about."

"Make no excuses," Fudge barked, and gave Draco a sharp rap on the knuckles with his wand.

Draco didn't make a sound, knowing that that would only give Fudge pleasure, and instead curled his fingers in on themselves and handed over the package. "Here, sir," he said in a low voice.

Fudge snarled, and yanked it from him with a sharp motion. "Go to your room."

Draco kept his eyes on the floor. "May I have something to eat first?" he asked faintly.

Fudge looked as if he wanted to thrash Draco to within an inch of his life. "Supper is over and done with," he growled. "There is some bread on the table downstairs that you may have. That is all you will get this time of day."

Draco went downstairs and found the small chunk of bread, which was hard and dry. The house elves ignored him, going about their business, and Draco was not about to ask them for something they could also get into trouble for. He choked down the bread, dry, and wearily climbed the stairs to his room.

When he got there, his tired heart was warmed by the sight of a light coming from under the door. He walked in, and Blaise was seated on the floor, wrapped in a warm cloak, reading a book by wandlight. He smiled when he saw Draco and moved aside to reveal Melchisedec standing there on his hind legs, wiggling his whiskers.

"Oh, Draco, thank goodness," Blaise said softly. "We were quite beginning to despair of your ever coming back."

Draco crossed to the small party and eased himself down onto the floor. When he saw Melchisedec looking at him hungrily, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Mel," he replied sadly. "I utterly forgot. Fudge was so cross today, and...I don't have one crumb left. Please forgive me."

Melchisedec looked at Draco for a moment, blinking his beady black eyes, and then seemed to forgive him, turning and shuffling resignedly back to his home.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight, Blaise," Draco said, leaning against the wall.

Blaise sighed and pointed to the corner. "Father sent me more books," he explained tiredly. "He wants me to know all about them by the next time he comes, which is in six weeks. How shall I explain to him that it takes me ever so much longer to read than that?"

A light came into Draco's eyes. He got up and moved over to the corner, examining first one book, and then the next, his face taking on a rosy sheen as he did so. When he had reached the fourth or fifth, he looked up and smiled, his teeth flashing in the light from Blaise's wand. "Why, if you will lend them to me, I shall read them and then tell you them in stories, like we've been doing with your history text," he said excitedly. "You remember those stories, and you will remember these as well!"