All the Wrong Things (The Rights and Wrongs series) #2

2

Friday, June 5, 1998

It's my favorites for breakfast. Pumpkin pastries, ordered special from someplace where pumpkins are in season. My favorite jams and scones. Eggs, beans, sausages.

And it all tastes like ash.

Father reads the paper, eyes unmoving. Mother stands to pace the room, teacup and saucer in hand. I stare at the pumpkin biscuit on my plate.

The Notts were taken yesterday. And the Goyles. Pansy's father. Pansy was probably taken in for questioning, but I know they won't find any Unforgivables from her wand inspection. She'll be released quickly.

"Why did they wait?" Mother whispers. "Why haven't they taken us yet?"

"To see if we would run," Father replies, and turns the page.

I wish we had. Years back. I wish I'd been sent to Durmstrang like Father wanted.

"Remember," he says, "you may ask for a member of the Wizengamot present while you are questioned." He lifts his teacup. "The Auror's Office must abide by your request. I highly recommend –"

"Thank you, Lucius," Mother says, eyes trained out the window. "But I'm quite done with your 'recommendations.'"

A crack.

Hix, one of the grounds elves pops into the room.

"Master Malfoy," he squeaks, eyes wide. "They are here."

Father closes his paper. Mother finishes her tea, and grabs up her napkin, pressing the cloth to her lips.

I stare at my breakfast, and wonder if I will ever see this much food again.

Father stands, and we follow him out of the dining room and into the entry hall. We stand in a straight line, facing the front doors. I feel Father turn to me.

"Be strong, Draco. This isn't forever."

"You don't know that," I say.

"You don't have to answer any questions until a member of the Wizengamot is available. Remember that," he says, straightening his sleeves. "If you need me, you will need to write to me—"

"What would I possibly need from you," I hiss at him.

I feel his eyes on me as I keep mine trained on the front doors. My mother clutches my hand as the doors explode open, and about twenty Aurors storm through it. Our wands fly from our pockets – not my wand, still my mother's – and a spell kicks my knees out so I fall on them. I raise my hands in the air, as my parents do the same.

They are yelling things, and I'm trying to follow direction. I see my father dealt with first. Restraints placed on him, and he is taken out. Then my mother. That is harder to watch.

Then it's my turn, and a young Auror, barely twenty-five, restrains me. I might recognize him from Hogwarts. As he hauls me to my feet, his fist pops into my stomach so quickly I don't even know what happened. My air disappears and I fold over, seeing lights.

He drags me forward, and tugs my head up to his face, fist in my hair, and sour breath against my nose.

"Happy Birthday, Malfoy."

~*~

Friday, August 27, 1999 - later

Someone must have informed my mother that I was being released. She was to meet me for lunch before the trial reconvened in the afternoon, but when the guards escort me to a holding area, she is there, grinning like a loon.