The Thing About Family by JillandTam

Molly looked out of the kitchen window over the weedy garden overrun by chickens and gnomes.

She’d have to set the children on that this morning before it became too hot out. She needed to finish the darning for the week. She could do that whilst they were all outside, and still have time to prepare lunch. It would have to be something simple, for even with Arthur’s new duties, he hadn’t received a pay rise yet. After that she’d finish the wash and let Ginny hang the clothes whilst she set the boys to dusting and general clutter removal. Most of the clutter was theirs, after all. She’d fit in dinner preparations whilst they cleaned, that way she could…

She was cast from her planning as Arthur snapped the Daily Prophet shut.

“The Ministry might be behind the times in most ways, but I like the idea of this new Department they’ve created.”

“What’s that, Dear?” Molly hastened to turn her mind fully on what her husband had to say.

“This new Department of Family and Children.” Arthur said as he reached for his tea. “It’s modelled after the different services the Muggles have set up for child protection.”

“Protection?” Molly asked.

“Yes, from their own families .” Arthur wiped his mouth primly with the napkin next to his cup. “I know you don’t like to think about it, my Mollywobbles is so soft-hearted.”

“Why would they need protection from their own fam…” Molly’s mind went to the one child she knew who needed such help. “You mean children like…Y-you mean Muggleborn children whose families don’t understand magic.”

“Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t be only that scenario.” Arthur said, “The children of those sent to Azkaban would benefit from this new department. Not all those children have extended families to rely upon. But that’s not my department ,and not my concern at the moment. We’ve had more reports on a certain Knockturn Alley shop that deals in Dark Artifacts. They seem to be dealing in several of the types of items we’ve been investigating, and we’re keeping a close watch on them. Field work today, so I may be a bit late tonight, Molly dear.”

Arthur looked at his watch absently, and then grabbed his work satchel from the chair beside him as he made quick work of what was left of his tea. He stood as he said, “Speaking of, I must dash! I wasn’t aware of the time.”

“Very well, Dear.” Molly sighed, picking up his lunch pail. “Don't forget your lunch.”

She lifted her lips to him as he skirted the table and sketched a quick peck. He took the pail from her hands and left the kitchen with a loud bang of the door followed by the muffled sound of disapparition.

Molly surveyed the garden once more, and then turned her back to it, hands on her ample hips. “Where are those children? If they think they’re sleeping the summer holidays away… there’s plenty of work to be done.

***

Draco counted how many times his mother sipped daintily from her delicate tea cup just to keep from going mad. The Manor was as it always was, a monument to fine taste and good manners, with little excitement to be had, unless you counted Father’s machinations as exciting. Draco definitely did not.

She was up to thirty-seven on the sips of tea and five mincing bites of toast. Her coddled egg remained untouched as usual. Mother wasn’t one for gustatory excess. Between these actions she would stare off into the room, a mistily vacant smile on her perfectly rouged lips. This was all Father ever required of her, a sense that she was listening vaguely whilst Father expounded on whatever caught his attention in the rag that passed for journalism. Draco wished the same applied to him. Father would quiz him on what he deemed important,and there would be hell to pay if Draco couldn’t regurgitate the facts in their entirety. Luckily enough, Father hadn’t found anything of interest in this morning’s Prophet yet.

Mother took another sip of tea and a little nibble on her toast. Thirty-eight and six.

The silence of the room was broken as Father chuckled darkly, “It seems the Ministry is run by Nosey Parkers these days.”

He read, “Breaking news from the Ministry this morning as Cornelius Fudge announced the formation of the Department of Family and Children. Charity Burbage, on sabbatical from her position as Professor of the controversial subject of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is a key player in the formation of this new department. Burbage, it is said, has loosely based the new department on a similar Muggle institution named the Child Protective Service.

“Burbage, who works closely with known Muggle sympathiser, Albus Dumbledore, is well known for his assertion that Muggles are really no different from Wizards. How true can this so-called fact be if Muggle children need to be protected from the very adults who care for them? That the Ministry supports this idea and the formation of this new department begs the question, just what exactly wizarding children need protection from? A question that your’s truly posed to Minister Fudge.

“According to Fudge, the Ministry's concerns lie mainly with the fate of children whose parents are unable to care for them. Those parents who are deceased or have been sentenced to Azkaban with no other family available to care for them. He also said, “We have seen an uptick in halfblood and Muggleborn children receiving harsh punishments because of the ignorance of the members of their family when their wizarding children exhibit perfectly natural accidental magic.”

“Minister Fudge also stated, “Anyone that knows of mistreatment of any child, pureblood, halfblood, or even Muggleborn, is bound by morals as well as statute, to report such abuse to the newly formed department immediately.

Draco snorted as his father finished. He didn’t care one way or the other if some filthy Mudblood or halfblood was distressed by their embarrassing family connections. He did wonder if Potty and Granger would be affected by the law, however. The Mudblood seemed to be cared for by her Muggle parents. It was probably the only reason she kept surpassing him in all their classes.

Father had already expressed his distaste upon his arrival home for summer holidays, that a Malfoy could be bested by someone so unworthy. Draco’s palms were still stinging from the hexes he had received over his marks. Granger had even surpassed him in Potions, and that just wasn’t fair. Obviously Snape’s hands were tied when it came to grading, either that or he was a secret blood traitor. Draco smirked at that thought. Snape.was as much a blood traitor as the Malfoy family were Muggles. The Old Fool must have influenced the grades like he did the House Cup.

Potty, on the other hand, might actually be forced to buy some decent clothes and do something about his atrocious hair.

“It was very good that Amelia Bones was there to take in her niece, isn’t it?” Mother commented idly. “Imagine the horror of having a family member taken into custody.”

Mother gave a small, theatrical shudder, “The scandal of it all would be too much for a pureblood child to overcome.”

Lucius smirked, “Perhaps the Ministry might do something about wizards having children that they can’t afford.”

He laid down the paper and put his fingers into the lemon-scented water of the finger bowl that was situated right above his plate. “Well, enough of this unpleasantness. I do have a few errands to run this morning. Draco, walk with me. We need to discuss your study plan I’ve drawn up for the summer. We can’t have any more disappointing performances in the coming year, can we?”

As Draco rose, his face red, Mother asked Father, “ Will you return for luncheon, Darling?”

She tilted her cheek up for Lucius’ customary brush of lips.

“I shall do my best, Cissy, Darling.” Lucius replied. He guided Draco from the room, his large hand squeezing Draco’s slight shoulder painfully.

***

It was already too hot for Harry as he pulled the weeds from the flowerbed near the front walkway by the street. Dudley had followed him out, bouncing his newly acquired basketball, the very same ball he’d knicked from a neighbourhood kid whose parents were from Canada just the other day. He had bounced it off Harry’s back several times already, nearly knocking him over with the force.

Harry pushed the sleeves up on his overly large hoodie. He’d donned it trying to cover the bruises that Polkiss and another of Dudley’s gang had put on him as they held him during a game of Harry hunting. They’d all taken a turn at drubbing him, littering his ribs and arms with black and blue marks, but as ever, careful to leave his face alone. Dudley didn’t want to deal with Uncle Vernon’s scolding. If no one could see the marks, there was no proof of harm, at least that’s what his uncle had said last time there’d been a game ofHarry hunting that had got out of hand.

Dudley dribbled the ball closer to Harry again. Harry braced himself for the impact, and nearly toppled over when the ball smashed into his neck.“What’s the matter, ickle Harry? Is the ickle baby going to cry?”

Bounce, bounce, smack!

”Ickle baby Hawwy! Gonna cry now?”

Harry saw black specks in his vision as the ball made contact with his head again. He shook his head and became aware of familiar sensible black shoes and support hose encased legs stopped in front of him. He looked up at Mrs Figg, who held a net shopping bag primly before her, filled with cat food and treats. A small, feathered cat toy sat atop the cans and sacs. He attempted to smile up at her, knowing the expression was more a grimace as he worked through the latest pain inflicted by his cousin.

“Is everything all right here, Harry?” she asked as her sharp-as-a-bird eyes seemed to focus on his bruised wrists.

Harry hastily shook down his sleeves as Dudley greeted her, “Good morning, Mrs Figg. I see you’ve been shopping for your sweet little cats.”

Mrs Figg gave a small disbelieving snort as Harry said, “Morning, Mrs Figg.”

Aunt Petunia called from the door with a saccharine, “Dudders, Harry, breakfast! Come along! Hallo, Arabella! Don’t let the boys keep you from your business!”

Dudley had already dropped the ball and was inside the doorway as Harry struggled stiffly to his feet. He turned away and heard Mrs Figg mutter, “You don’t fool me one whit, Petunia Dursley. Don’t worry, Harry, it’s all going to be alright. The right people have heard what goes on here.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant him to hear it, but the words filled him with a sense of dread. Adults noticing him in Little Whinging had never worked out. He hastened into the house.

His aunt was waiting for him. She yanked him aside, sharp fingers digging into the flesh of his upper arm, “I trust you haven’t been telling tales out of school, have you?”

“N-no, Aunt Petunia” he answered as she glared at him.

She pushed him into the kitchen with a rough shove, “Don’t dawdle over breakfast. I need you to do the washing up and then get on with the list of chores Vernon left you.”

***

Albus Dumbledore flooed into the Ministry of Magic nodding and smiling at the various greetings from workers and visitors alike. He was stopped by Mafalda Hopkirk, in an attempt to chat, but he foiled her with a jovial,"Oh, no time now, Mafalda my dear, I've been summoned by none other than Madam Bones herself! I must run! Yes, dear, good day."

He continued on, nodding and smiling until he reached Amelia Bones door, striding in and presenting himself to her clerk. "Albus Dumbledore, I believe I have an appointment"

His greeting caused her to snicker. "Of course, Professor, Madame Bones is waiting for you"

He strode in, mildly surprised to see not only Cornelius Fudge, but Charity Burbage as well. Curious. He hadn't realised the special project she'd requested sabbatical for had to do with the Ministry.

"Good Morning, Amelia." He smiled.and said with a chuckle of amusement, "you rang?"

"Cornelius." He nodded at Fudge, who was fidgeting with his hands."And Professor Burbage! I must say, I'm rather surprised to see you here."

He didn't wait for an answer and with the required pleasantries out of the way, he helped himself to an empty chair.

"Now, Amelia, how may I be of service to you?" he enquired. He smiled pleasantly, ignoring her frown and the slight shake of her head.

"As you are aware, Albus, the Ministry has instituted a new department devoted to the care and well being of all wizarding children, be they pureblood, halfblood, or Muggleborn, with particular focus on those who may be experiencing less than desirable situations at home, orphans, children who..." She stopped with a sour expression ghosting across her face as Albus raised a finger.

"Excuse me for interrupting, Amelia, but does this have anything to do with the unfortunate events of the past school year? Because I assure you –as I have Cornelius here– our professors, parents, and the Board of Governors that..."

Madame Bones sighed heavily and said over his speech "No, Albus, this has to do with you… You and Harry Potter, to be precise."

Albus again made to interrupt her, but she drew herself up and continued on firmly, "It has come to our attention that since placing Mr. Potter with his Muggle relatives, you have not once, in nearly thirteen years, gone to check on the boy, to see how he is treated in that household. Neither have you sent anyone in your stead. You also placed him there over the strong objections of your Deputy Head and second in command of the Order."

"May I remind you, Amelia, when I placed Harry with his aunt and uncle, I also placed several wards, charms, and spells of protection over the dwelling to ensure Harry's safety"

"Be that as it may, Albus, I don't think your wards are as strong or as encompassing as you may think.” Amelia smoothed her hand over the papers that lay on her desk.

Dumbledore was slightly taken aback at this, but he was careful to maintain a jovial expression. "I assure you, Amelia, my wards and spells are unbreakable. Voldemort himself could not break through the blood protection from Lily's sacrifice, and that has been doubled by my own protection spells."

"Perhaps your wards and spells will protect Harry from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Albus, but they have failed spectacularly at protecting him from the evil within those wards.”

"Evil within, Amelia?" Dumbledore chuckled dismissively. "Aren't all children made to do household chores? Even Molly Weasley gives chores to her brood..."

"We are not talking about keeping his room tidy, Dumbledore! Surely even you noticed how the boy returns from summer holiday in rags, undernourished..."

"He's a teenaged boy, Amelia!" Fudge interjected, speaking for the first time. He was quickly silenced again by the frosty look Madame Bones threw at him.

"Amelia," Dumbledore said kindly, "Harry is a growing boy, at the awkward, gangly stage. All the boys are ravenous at meals, Harry is no different.."

He caught the look and nod Madame Bones directed at Charity Burbage, who cleared her throat and said, "Professor, we at the Department of Family and Children have received reports of actual abuse in the Dursley home. Harry has been seen with bruises, sometimes cuts, sore limbs. He is bullied relentlessly by his cousin, his uncle has been heard shouting terrible things at him. We have it on good authority that the boy is given a list of chores aily, yet the cousin seems to only spend his time tormenting Harry. We have an eyewitness account..."

"Perhaps your eyewitness is mistaken," Dumbldore said. "I can tell you that although I may not have visited Privet Drive myself, I have quite the reliable source keeping an eye out for Harry myself"

His seeming refusal to take this seriously seemed to affect Amelia Bones' temper as her fist clenched spasmodically over the papers on which her had rested. Albus continued breezily, "Arabella Figg may be an old cat lady to most, but I can tell you that she keeps a sharp eye on Harry."

"Indeed she does", Fudge sighed. "She's the one who reported this nasty business."

Albus was unable to maintain his calm facade, to Amelia Bones' apparent satisfaction. Albus just managed to cover his astonishment at this news.

Madam Bones was all formidable business now, drawing herself up again, adjusting her monocle, and fixing Dumbledore with an impassive expression. "Harry Potter is to be removed from his aunt and uncle's home, and taken into custody until a suitable home can be found for him."

At this Dumbledore stood and protested "May I remind you, Madame Bones, Harry must return to where his blood dwells to keep the blood protection..."

"You will remove the blood protection charm, and all other wards placed upon Mr. Potter, Dumbledore. Harry Potter will be held here at the Ministry until suitable arrangements are made, whereupon you will cast new wards and protection spells. Yes, you, Albus, by order of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Minister of Magic. If you refuse or interfere with the boy’s removal, you will be taken into custody yourself.”

Albus rose to his feet, with an outraged huff.

Amelia took a steadying breath and held up her hand as if to quash any of his arguments before she continued.” You would be wise to concede, Professor. You may be the great Albus Dumbledore, able to cast wards strong enough to repel He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, but they did nothing to protect him from his own family, a fact you ignored. Yes, Arabella Figg told us all about you dismissing her concerns time and again. That makes you complicit, Albus, and unless you would like to try and wriggle your way out of child abuse charges, you will comply."

Dumbledore stood there his jaw lax, momentarily dumbfounded, unable to believe this turn of events.

"I see,’ he eventually said, "will he still be allowed to attend Hogwarts?"

"Of course, Professor," Charity Burbage said. "We are not taking Harry away from the magical world, we are ensuring he survives to thrive in it."

"And when will this all occur?" he asked, hating the weak sound of his usually confident voice.

Madame Bones stated. "As soon as you dismantle your wards and protections, we will dispatch a team of Family and Children staff, as well as Aurors to the Dursley residence. You need not be present to remove your wards. You will do so here and now, with us as witnesses. The Aurors will then move in while the FAC staff inform Harry and his relatives, gather his things, and bring him to the Ministry where temporary quarters have been arranged for children like him. An Auror will perform a memory charm on the Dursley family. Petunia Dursley and her family will forget that Harry ever lived with them. Unfortunately, we are unable to enforce any punishment for their crimes, since they are Muggles.” and then said with steel creeping into her words, “Wizards are, of course, a different cauldron of potion."

"Well", Dumbledore said."It seems I have no choice in this matter. I certainly hope you know what you are doing, Amelia. You'll excuse me when I say I disagree most heartily.”

“You may disagree all you like, Albus,” Fudge interjected, “It doesn’t matter. We only ask that you do as ordered."

Dumbledore turned as he heard the door open behind him. Kingsley Shackelbolt and another young man entered. Both wore their red duty robes.

"Really, Amelia? Aurors?" Dumbledore said.

"Albus, your neglect of Mr. Potter borders on the criminal, yet you refuse to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. I am sorry if you are offended, but the child is the primary concern here, not your wounded sensibilities. Remove all wards, charms, and spells from Privet Drive and Harry's person now."

With aurors on either side of him, Albus, seeing no way out at this moment, drew his wand and complied, leaving Harry utterly defenceless.

"I'm sorry, my boy," he whispered quietly.

His heart felt heavy in his chest. He truly had only the best intentions toward Harry. Feeling older and much more tired than he had in years, he asked softly, "May I ask how you will go about finding a place for Harry?”

"Suitable people who are willing to take in a child are encouraged to contact the FAC. There is, of course, an interview process, investigation, and in-home visit before placement is determined, but anyone with a concern for child welfare will be considered," Professor Burbage offered. " He will be safe, Professor, you have my word."

"I sincerely hope so," Dumbledore said defeatedly, then turning to Madam Bones. "May I be dismissed, Amelia?"

She nodded, her expression softening for her old friend for a moment as he turned to go, but before he exited the office she said, "Albus. I trust Arabella Figg will continue to coddle her cats in peace."

Dumbledore heard the implied warning and said wryly, “Would you like an Unbreakable Vow, Amelia?”

"Your word will be enough.” she answered with a tart note of asperity.

Albus returned, "Of course, Amelia. You have my promise."

She nodded with a sharp motion of her head in dismissal, and said, “Good day, Albus."

He left without his usual pleasantries, at once chagrined and chastened by the last half hour’s business.

***

"Alright then, boys", Arthur Weasley said to the small, nondescript group of men sitting round the table in the Leaky Cauldron. "We'll wander out one by one, and make our way toward Knockturn Alley and Borgin & Burkes. We don't want to arouse suspicion, and have someone alert them. Once I see we're all assembled, Auror Parker here,” He nodded toward the other bland looking man to his left, "Will cast an anti-apparition charm so they can't escape. I'll give the signal, and we'll converge. Yes?"

Everybody nodded their agreement. "Very well, off you go, Harris, the rest of us will follow in five minute increments."

Harris finished his drink, stood, and said loudly, " Ah, good to see you lads, but I'm off. The missus got a whole list for me to fetch. You know how it is! Cheers!"

He took his leave through the Diagon Alley entrance. The others, with various made up excuses and hearty farewells to Arthur, followed suit, and when they were gone, Arthur settled up and started on his way.

He arrived at his destination, spotting his three field workers and Auror Parker at various vantage points, all pretending to browse the shop fronts while surreptitiously watching Arthur for the signal. He felt a small ripple of excitement course through himself; this would be his first operation since his promotion and new level of authority, and he didn't want to faff it up. It had been a long time in coming, this promotion, and he felt a bit of pressure to prove he was worthy of it.

He was about to give Parker the signal to cast the anti-apparition charm, when his attention was caught by the telltale crack of apparition nearby.

"Well, well, well," he muttered to himself. "Look who we have here".

He raised a hand to stay the others, and stepped back into the shadows to avoid being seen, as he watched Lucius Malfoy stride purposefully toward Borgin & Burkes. Malfoy gave a cursory glance about, then entered the shop.

Arthur casually made his way toward Auror Parker. "Now what do you suppose Lucius Malfoy is doing in Borgin & Burkes on this fine morning?"

“Look at the big fish our little net just caught,” Parker said quietly, with a quirk of his brow. "I can cast the charm and ward the door so he can't escape now, if you want it. It's your show, Arthur."

"A big fish indeed, Nigel, " Arthur replied, " Unfortunately, we've got no hard evidence against him, only suspicion, and vague at that. He's a slippery one, Malfoy. I'd need more to go on to catch him. However, depending on what we find inside, perhaps Borgin could prove to be useful. Let's let Malfoy leave, and then move in. As soon as he apparates away, cast the charm."

Parker nodded, and Arthur moved back to his place in the shadows. As he waited, he mulled over his course of action. Lucius Malfoy, the self-described leader of the Sacred Twenty-eight, had long been under suspicion for various nefarious deeds, but always managed to slither his way out of trouble. Of course, being on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, carrying Fudge about in his pocket, and his seemingly bottomless Gringotts vault always greased his way nicely. How ironic it would be for the untouchable Lucius Malfoy to be brought down for something as pedestrian as selling dark magic enchanted Muggle artifacts?

Arthur quietly smirked as he admitted to himself that it would be nice to give pay-back for what Malfoy had done to Ginny, nearly causing her death.

Eventually, the man in question stepped out of the shop, wearing a self satisfied smile. He walked a few steps away, glanced about, and disapparated with a crack! Auror Parker wasted no time casting the charm, and Arthur gave the signal for his team to converge on Borgin's shop door.

Borgin himself was behind the counter, but before he could launch into his customary unctuous greeting, Arthur slapped down the parchment with the Ministry order for a search, and snapped, "Save it Borgin. This is an official Ministry order for search and seizure of illegal artifacts."

"We have a license to deal in enchanted objects and artifacts," Borgin said calmly. Arthur was aware that this wasn't the first raid on the shop, and most likely wouldn't be the last. Both proprietors had a great deal of experience dealing with the authorities.

"But you don't have one to deal in dark enchanted artifacts, Borgin, and we now for a fact the rash of biting doorknobs, spitting teapots, and such came from your shop," Arthur replied just as calmly, "Stay where you are and don't try anything."

Borgin raised his hands and sat himself on his stool, his expression cool. A small trickle of sweat from his hairline belied his calm. Arthur was sure they had him.

Nobody else here, Arthur." Simmons, the newest member of Arthur's office reported, sticking his head out between the curtains that separated the shop from the office and stockrooms. "Plenty of other items of note though."

"Gather it all up, and any paperwork or anything else suspicious.” Arthur ordered.

Borgin sat calmly as Arthur watched the pile of artifacts in the middle of the floor grow, and felt a bit disappointed. They had enough to arrest both Borgin and Burke and shut down their shop for a bit, but nothing dangerous enough to close them down completely. Arthur hoped they would get more incriminating evidence once forensic accounting went over the books.

"Here, what's this then?" Auror Parker suddenly exclaimed, pointing his wand at what appeared to be a wall covered in door knockers, old portraits, and various landscape paintings.

"What is it, Nigel?" Arthur questioned.

"Well, it’s a wall," Parker said, turning to eye Borgin. "A wall with a very heavy load of wards and questionably legal curses on it."

"Is that so?" Arthur said to Borgin, who was looking a bit shifty now.

"It's just a wall, " Borgin said uneasily, "those are valuable objects, of course it's warded. Against theft."

"Interesting fact about Auror Parker here, Borgin," Arthur said silkily, "He's also a cursebreaker. Used to work for Gringotts and actually had a hand in training my son. I trust his instincts. Take it down, Nigel."

After some complicated spellwork dismantling the wards and charms, the wall disappeared to reveal another behind it, in which a large vault door appeared.

"It's the vault that's cursed, Arthur", Parker said, "give me a few moments."

Eventually, and not without a few stings to his person, Parker was able to break the curse, and open the vault, revealing a veritable treasure trove of artifacts. The dark magic pulsed out of the vault in waves, making everyone take a step back.

"Don't touch anything," Parker cautioned. "Everything is heavily cursed. I'll have to put a containment spell around it all until I can get it to the Ministry and let the Unspeakables have at it."

"Objects this dark don't bode well for you, Borgin," Arthur said harshly, turning back to the now fidgeting, guilty looking shopkeeper. "Who sold you these items?"

"I..i bought them ..overseas..in, in the States...these things are legal there, so I didn’t enquire about the seller.and no one offered. So I… I-I didn't think to ask for a name! It was a perfectly legal transaction!"

Arthur turned to Parker, who was peering at the objects through his containment spell.

"Nothing here appears to be American made," he said. "European, I'd say, some definitely French, and most not over thirty years old."

Parker and Arthur both raised brows over that, and Arthur turned back to Borgin. "Since we both know that the States haven’t allowed the import and export of dark artifacts since the Grindelwald War, I'll ask again, Borgin. Who sold these to you?"

"I..i can't violate my customers confidence!" Borgin cried. "This is business! I would lose my reputation!"

"You'll lose more than just your already questionable reputation, if you don't tell me who sold you these things," Arthur said fiercely. " These are Class A dark enchanted Muggle objects, cursed objects. These aren't silly prank items like biting doorknobs, these objects are meant to seriously injure, even kill! You don't want that over your head, Borgin."

The man remained silent, his slumped shoulders and head drawn down, he looked like a cornered rat..

"Is a lifetime in Azkaban worth it, Borgin? You'll go down on charges of dealing in cursed artifacts, cursed Muggle artifacts, which you know carries a heavier sentence. But these aren't your everyday cursed objects, these are cursed with dark magic that can kill. That makes you a murderer, Borgin, and Burke an accessory. You'll lose everything. You'll go to Azkaban for life. You'll never see the light of day again.”

“Might even be kissed." Parker added as he peered at the vault taking notes. “It would help your case if you were seen as being cooperative, I would think.”

Borgin paled at that and began to huff heavily, his eyes darting quickly between the pile of contained objects, Auror Parker, and Arthur.

"For the last time, Borgin, who sold you these objects?" Arthur asked.

Borgin looked around wildly, trapped, on the verge of tears, but remained silent, clearly terrified.

"Arrest him," Arthur said with finality, and Parker moved forward.

"Wait! Wait!" Borgin cried out, "I...I...L-Lucius… Lucius Malfoy s-sold them to me. H-he said he's got more, if-if the price is right…a-at his Manor." Borgin shrank further in on himself, breathing heavily, and Parker went round the counter, pulling him to his feet.

"Epatticus Borgin, you are under arrest by order of the Ministry of Magic. Surrender your wand."

Arthur couldn't help the smile that crept across his face at the thought of serving Lucius Malfoy his just desserts. His work here was done. He would let the others finish up, he thought as he stepped outside the anti-apparition wards to return to his Ministry office.. He had bigger fish to fry, and just in time for lunch.

***

Severus gave a cursory nod to the gargoyle at the foot of the stairs. The door to Albus' office was open and he could hear Minerva's voice, more strident than usual.

He had been in the middle of his final paperwork for the school year when Albus' phoenix Patronus had flitted through the room. to land in front of him. He couldn't, for the life of him, imagine what crackpot scheme the Headmaster had that needed a summons by Patronus.

As he rose to the top of the stairs he heard Albus say, in a much more stern voice than was his wont with Minerva, "You and your strong objections just because they're Muggles."

Severus stepped through the doorway with a purposeful scuffle of his feet.

“Albus Dumbledore, you know I did not object to the fact that they were Muggles, only that they were distasteful.. The worst sort of Muggle…” Minerva stopped mid-diatribe, but Severus could see that it cost her as her lips pinched shut and her cheeks flamed with unexpressed Gryffindor sentiment.

Severus was in no mood for emotional scenes, especially if that scene included, he inferred from the mention of distasteful Muggle families, the topic of one Harry Potter.

He assumed a seat in front of the Headmaster’s desk and poured himself a cuppa with his customary three sugars as he drawled, "Albus, you know my summer hols away from the chaos of hundreds of undisciplined barbarians is sacrosanct. What is so important that it requires my immediate attention? I was in the middle of finalising my end of year paperwork and minutes away from a well-deserved rest at my humble abode."

He flicked an imaginary speck from his black frock coat, attempting to still the uneasy feeling that this meeting was already causing him.

Albus cleared his throat and with another disparaging look at Minerva he began explaining his tumultuous meeting at the Ministry. Severus’ feeling of unease increased.

“As unfortunate as it may be that your influence on Potter will be diminished, Headmaster, if the boy’s purported abuse is actually true,” Minerva’s hissed inhalation punctuated his comment. “It can only be a boon for Potter to be out from under their fawning influence. Regardless, I fail to see how any of this concerns me.”

Albus seemed to brace himself as he glanced once again at Minerva. When he turned his attention towards Severus again, he answered with unusual solemnity, “It has everything to do with you, my boy. It is my wish that you apply to take Harry in.”

Severus was sure his dumbfounded expression mirrored Minerva’s as she said, “But Albus…Severus is certainly not the most appropriate… I mean…Severus and Mr Potter don’t get on with each other, do they?”

As Dumbledore resumed his normal twinkling facade, she all but stamped her foot in frustration. “You have finally gone round the twist if you think this preposterous idea has any merit! Surely the Weasleys would be a better choice. They are a family, Albus, whereas Severus is a single man with obviously limited experience dealing with… children in…”

Albus interjected with a swish of his hand, as if the motion dispelled the madness of his plan. “Yes, Minerva, they are, undoubtedly, a good family. The boy would be in excellent hands if that were my only consideration, but we must consider Harry’s safety. In that regard, Severus is our best choice.”

“No.” Severus found himself standing, looming over the Headmaster’s desk. He would not be forced to take care of Potter’s spawn, no matter what the Headmaster held over him. Through clenched teeth he said “Absolutely not.”

Albus turned his attention fully on Severus, his eyes cold as he said, “You do recall our arrangement, Severus.”

“I do, Headmaster.” he replied with a calm he did not feel. He began pacing. “I have never failed to protect the boy, mostly from his own dunderheaded impulsivity. That arrangement does not include raising him. The boy is spoiled and has obviously been telling tales. I will not be tasked with attempting to raise him. I refuse to have that brat invade both my free time and my home. You ask too much of me, after I have done everything you have asked of me.”

"Severus…" Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

"No, Albus,” Snape spat, " Minerva is right, this is the most preposterous idea you've spouted yet. Who in their right mind would think I can or would raise any child, much less that one? You have truly lost the plot, especially if the boy has been so damaged by the care he’s received.”

“Surely you’ve noticed the signs of neglect, Severus” Minerva said. “This is why he should not be considered for this position, Albus. He’s always allowed his own prejudices…”

“If that isn’t the Cauldron calling the kettle black.” Severus snipped back at her. “Or do I recall my bullying at the hands of your marauding Gryffindor cubs in error?”

Albus raised both his hands in a placating gesture, “Severus, Minerva, we are discussing how we can keep Harry safe, given the Ministry’s interference.”

Minerva’s jaw snapped shut, and Severus folded his arms across his chest.

Dumbledore sighed in exasperation, and Severus scoffed. Surely the old man knew that Severus wouldn't take his proposal lying down.

"It must be you, Severus.” Albus said. “You are best equipped to protect the boy. You know that we may be up against Voldemort’s return, and return he will. It's only a matter of time. The Ministry forced my hand, and without Lily’s blood protection charm, as it is, Harry is now vulnerable to any one of your former comrades who has an axe to grind. Until he is placed, and I can cast another protection charm, he is a sitting duck. If he is with you, you can simply stay in the dungeons during the holiday, and, of course, he'll be here during the school year.

“I am positive that once Molly Weasley learns Harry was removed from the Dursleys, she will waste no time getting to the Ministry to apply, therefore time is of the essence. Jf Minerva here will support your application for placement, there will be interviews and a home visit. You will point out all the reasons you can keep him safest, including housing you both here at Hogwarts”

"You would need to Confund the person in charge of placements to ever make them believe I could possibly be the best choice, Albus,” Snape snorted, rolling his eyes.

Albus continued, "As Charity Burbage seems to be shaping this new department, Severus, and you and she seem to have struck up a friendship, I feel that you should have no problem convincing her that you and Hogwarts are the best option for placing Harry. She is aware of the potential dangers Harry faces, as we all are."

At Severus' scowl, Dumbledore said, "You might also point out that, as excellent parents Molly and Arthur may be, with five children of their own still at home, their plates are rather full, and Harry deserves the benefit of individual attention. You, as a teacher and Potions Master, can also offer educational benefits Molly and Arthur cannot. I'm sure you will agree, Severus, that whatever it takes, but it must be you.”

“Given all those reasons, why not Minerva? She was duelling champion in her year, wasn’t she?” Severus interjected and then he glanced her way.

“Don’t be preposterous, Severus!” Minerva said, “I’m much less of a candidate than you. I don’t have the experience in dealing with… that type of threat.”

Severus glared at Minerva, disgusted that the old codger's words seemed to have worked on her. She gave a little shake of her head.

"He does raise some valid points, Severus,” she murmured quietly.

"Traitor!" Severus huffed under his breath. Severus turned and resumed his seat in defeat, “Very well, Headmaster, you seem to have won the board, but I will require some concessions”

“I have no doubt you do,” Albus said with his usual twinkle.

Snape scowled and said, "I will do as you ask, and apply for custody of Potter. But know this, Albus, I will be his parent, and I will brook no interference from you in how the boy is raised. Anything you wish to ask of, involve the boy in, or any other harebrained ideas you may have concerning him will come through me. This is not up for negotiation, and do not think that you may agree now and go behind my back later. I will be the boy’s legal guardian and therefore can and will take him out of your sphere of influence if needs must, our agreement be damned."

Severus met Albus’ steely gaze with his own of flint. After several beats of their hearts Albus looked away. “As you wish, Severus.”

"Since my foreseeable future is mired in this Potter problem, I must take my leave to take care of some loose ends at Spinner's End." He rose and stalked to the door.

Minerva joined him and she pulled the Headmaster's door shut.

"Severus", Minerva clutched his elbow. He refused to turn to her, however. He had needed her backing and once again, the old tabby disappointed. "You know that I will always be available to help out as need be. You will be Harry's parent, so to speak, but we will all support you in this. You must know that"

Severus unceremoniously shook off her hold and made his leave.

***

Harry, on his hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor while Aunt Petunia kept a sharp eye on him, paused as he felt a ripple of...something. He didn't know what it was, but it seemed almost like the quality of air had subtly changed, or...he shook his head. It was probably nothing.

Aunt Petunia eyed him from the table where she sat making her market list and snapped, "Why are you stopping? You're not finished. You missed a spot in front of the stove."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry droned, and went back to scrubbing.

Harry continued slaving away as Uncle Vernon, in his long summer shorts, ankle socks, and sandals, waddled into the kitchen making sure he tracked up the floor that Harry had just cleaned. Vernon said to Aunt Petunia. "Mail, Pet, along with our holiday itinerary. Bath here we come! "

He turned to Harry, who was now rinsing suds from the floor that his uncle had muddied, and said, "You, of course, will stay with Mrs Figg. You’ve been a right terror since you came back from that freakish school of yours. You don’t deserve a holiday."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry intoned, and turned his attention back to the floor. Harry consoled himself that it wasn’t as if he’d want to go anywhere with them anyway.

Harry finished the floor quickly so that he wouldn’t have to be in the same room as his uncle. As he was gathering the pail and mop his uncle said, “And since you already ate this morning, no lunch for you Now get on with it.”

Harry cleaned the downstairs loo, hoovered the above stairs rooms with his aunt’s top of the line vacuum. His stomach rumbled as the smell of cooking wafted up the stairs. He heard his Aunt call for Dudley as Harry made his way down to the lounge, lugging both the vacuum and the box of dusting supplies. He listened to the clatter of cutlery against china as he resignedly began dusting the many framed photos of Dudley that sat on the mantle. The scent of lemon and dust was cloying in the heat of the room. A trickle of sweat snaked down Harry’s back. He still wore the hoodie from that morning. Dudley had threatened him more than once about exposing his abuse to Aunt Petunia’s eyes.

As Harry pulled down the next photo to dust, he stuck his tongue out at the particularly smarmy photo of Dudley in a straw boater and blazer of his school uniform. Harry was distracted by a very loud and sharp knock that came from the front hall. That noise was followed by a wave of magic and commotion in the entryway. To Harry’s surprise the form of the Muggle Studies professor, Miss Burbage, appeared in the lounge doorway.

He heard Uncle Vernon bellow and Aunt Petunia screech, followed by a high-pitched squeal of pure terror from Dudley. Harry closed his mouth with an audible click as his fingers nervelessly let go of the picture he had been holding. It crashed to the hearthstones on the floor, glass exploding out of the frame.

“Hello, Harry," Professor Burbage said kindly as she held out a slim hand. "Come with me, please."

As Harry looked dumbly down at the shattered glass at his feet, she said, "Don't worry about that. It doesn't matter anymore."

“But my Aunt will…” He bit off the words. He knew from painful experience what would happen if he talked to anyone about what happened in his home. He stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity and only found his footing when the professor began to enter the lounge. He'd be in for it if anything magical happened there.

"Harry, please come with me,” Professor Burbage repeated in that kind voice as he approached her. She stepped out into the hallway and Harry followed. They entered the kitchen where his family sat with three people dressed in red robes guarding each one of the Dursley. Harry didn't recognise them or their uniform, but he assumed they were Aurors since they each brandished a wand at the Dursleys. Dudley and Aunt Petunia were frozen in place, eyes round, Dudley visibly shaking, but Uncle Vernon was still bellowing.

"Now see here!" Uncle Vernon blustered, " You have no right to…"

One of the men swished his wand in a complex motion and whilst Uncle Vernon’s mouth still moved, no sound escaped him.

Professor Burbage waited until he quit moving his lips and then she said, "I'm afraid you're wrong there, Mr. Dursley, we're from the Ministry of Magic Department of Family and Children. We will be removing your nephew from your home and from your care."

Petunia blanched and sputtered. “But Dumbledore said he must stay here!”

Under different circumstances Harry would have laughed at the way Uncle Vernon and Dudley gaped at her.

"Albus Dumbledore's authority does not exceed the Ministry of Magic, Mrs. Dursley. Think of it as your court ordering a child removed from his home because of neglect and abuse. Your councilman would not have authority over a court order, Albus Dumbledore has no authority in this matter," Professor Burbage said.

“I will need your statements on your return to the Ministry gentlemen” The professor nodded to the Aurors She turned to Harry and said, “Please fetch the things you wish to take with you “

Harry stepped into the hallway and one of the Aurors followed him “I’ll just go… “

“Give him a few moments, Lawrence, he needs it.” He heard the professor say as he fled upstairs.

Once in his room, he shoved his school clothes in one of the Tesco sacs that was left over from his shopping trip earlier in the week. Aunt Petunia had allowed him to keep them so that he could clean up his room. He dawdled over the bits and bobs he had accumulated over the years, but decided against taking any. They were mostly Dudley’s broken toys anyway. He knelt down and lifted the floor board where he hid all his treasured things. Out came his book of photos, the presents from last Christmas that his friends had given him, and his invisibility cloak. He shoved them into another bag, then picked up Hedwig’s cage. He felt lucky that she was out hunting. He had no doubt that she would be able to find him, wherever he was going.

When he was done, he left Dudley’s second room and went down the stairs to the cupboard. He waited as Professor Burbage finished talking to the Auror who had tried to follow him. “Erm, Professor?”

“What is it, Harry?” She asked as she approached him.

“Erm….my school things are locked in the cupboard,” he mumbled as blood rushed to his face.

“Oh my.” She said and then gave a small quirk of her lips. “Well, that ‘s not an insurmountable problem.”

She flicked and swished her wand and the door popped open, revealing several scraps of paper on the back of the door and the walls, unmistakable as Harry’s, as he had scrawled his name at the bottom of each crayon etched picture. Harry ducked his head further and dragged out his trunk. He opened it and dumped the sac into it and then closed the lid and locked it. He couldn’t look at anyone as he said, “That’s it. I’m ready.”

Shame made his skin prickly as he walked past both the pretty teacher and the Auror beside her. As he passed them, the professor reached out to him, her hand over one of the worst of his bruises. He flinched away from the contact, not sure if he was trying to protect his painful shoulder or his bruised ego. It was one thing for him to tell about how the Dursleys treated him and quite another to have a witness, particularly a professor, see it.

She pulled back her hovering hand and said, “You’ll be safe where you’re going, Harry, I promise.”

***

Draco took his place in his customary chair. Afternoon tea was a ritual ingrained into him practically from birth. He looked at his mother as she fussed over the heavily laden tea tray the elves had provided, and eyed up the luscious looking cakes. They were awaiting his father's arrival. They would not begin without him.

"Four o’clock, Lucius, and we wait," He heard his mother say to herself in whispered annoyance as she picked up the timepiece on her chatelaine. Mother was stickler for punctuality no matter on whom she waited.

Presently, the sound of the elves greeting their master floated through the doorway, and Draco watched his mother school her beautiful face into a pleasant and welcoming smile. He took her cue and did the same, despite the wariness he felt inside. Father had been volatile of late, given the harassment that the Weasel’s blood traitor father had directed at the more prestigious families who made up the Malfoy’s sphere.

His father strode into the library and over to Mother, leaning down to brush her cheek.with dry lips "My apologies, Cissy, my dear. I ran into Claudius Greengrass and his wife on my way back home. You know how that woman can natter on… However, I am here now. How was your afternoon, my darling?"

He sat in his customary chair across the dainty table between them,smiling at Mother. Draco suspected he didn't actually care how Mother spent her afternoon. Still, Draco was a bit surprised, and, he admitted to himself, relieved that Father's mood was considerably more pleasant than it had been at breakfast, so he allowed himself to relax a fraction. He smiled a thank you to Mother as she handed Draco his own steaming cup of tea and plate of finger sandwiches.

Draco glanced warily at Father. Mother must be quite annoyed with him, having missed luncheon as well as being late for tea. She usually served him first. Father, however, was smiling benignly at them both.

"Thank you, my dear," Father said, accepting his own tea and plate from Mother. He turned his attention to Draco. "Have you had a good day, Dragon?"

Draco hesitated a moment, but Father's smile seemed genuine. Perhaps this tea wouldn’t trend to the unpleasantness concerning a certain undesirable’s grades and how she once again bested Draco Father couldn’t seem to let the subject go.

"Yes, Father," he said, and turned to his tea.

Mother nibbled her own sandwich and said to Father, "Obviously you've had a good day, Lucius. You're in a jovial mood."

"I am indeed," Father agreed. "That matter with Borgin is settled. He was quite pleased to hear the well runs deep, and is more than willing to accommodate. After all, it is to his benefit as well."

Mother appeared quite pleased to hear this, and smiled warmly at Father, saying, "Well, that is good news, Darling. I'm happy to hear it. Now, what was Columbine Greengrass bending your ear about?"

Draco tuned the gossip out and drank his tea. He didn't know exactly what Father was talking about, but if Mr. Borgin was involved, it couldn't be above board. After all, the man's shop was full of immensely interesting, though questionably legal, dark objects.

Perhaps Father had got rid of some of the more vicious books from his private library, the one Draco wasn't allowed into. It was warded so that even the house elves couldn't access it. It would take one of Gringotts' best curse breakers to breach that stronghold. Draco, consumed with curiosity, had tried, and hadn't even been able to approach the door before the wards sent him trotting in the opposite direction.

A great boom shook the Manor as elf and human voices chaotically mingled and drew rapidly nearer. The family momentarily gaped at one another in astonishment, all three bounding to their feet. Mother’s wand slipped out of her wrist holster and father gripped his cane with both hands, ready to pull his wand from its hiding spot.

"What in Merlin's name…" Father’s exclamation caused Mother to pull Draco behind her, just as the library doors burst open.

The elves fled into the room, screeching, their fists beating their heads. "We tried to stop the blood traitor Ministry men, Master Lucius! We tried to protect Master Lucius’ family from the blood traitors!"

A large group of Aurors and other Ministry functionaries by-passed the knot of house elves. The group was headed by none other than the Weasel’s father, whom Draco recognised from the embarrassing altercation at Flourish & Blotts the year before.

The elves, swiftly and without prompting, formed a ring around Draco and his parents, and Lucius bellowed above the hubbub, "What is the meaning of this, Weasley? You have no call to raid us again!"

Wide-eyed and shocked, Draco stared at the invaders. He turned his attention to the Aurors in their red uniforms, who looked like open wounds in the gothic library decor. Draco had been away at school the other times the Manor had been raided, and although he'd heard his parents grouse about them in disgusted tones, the reality was quite frightening.

"Search the place." Mr Weasley nodded at the men,."Take down all wards, break all curses, take everything."

Most of the group fanned out into the rest of the house. A few Aurors remained scanning the walls with expertly cast spells. The blood traitor turned back to Father, his voice gruff, "Oh, this isn't just a raid, Lucius, you and your wife are to be taken into custody. I have a Ministry order for search and seizure of any and all dark artifacts, as well as an official order for your arrest."

"Arrest…” Mother blurted inelegantly, "Lucius! What… This is outrageous talk, even from you, Arthur Weasley!"

Father quelled her panicked questions with a cold look and snapped, *On what spurious charges, Weasley? You are required by law to present your Ministry order. I am well aware of my rights."

Mr. Weasley merely smiled as he stepped nose to nose with Father, and pushed a sheaf of folded parchment against his chest. Father sneered mightily as he put one hand over the bundle, and used the hand holding his cane to push Weasley back.

The man sneered right back and said, "Shall we add, ’accosting a Ministry official’ to the charges?"

One of the Aurors paused his spellwork to take out a small notepad flipping through it and then jotting something onto a page “Noted, Arthur.”

Father took his time perusing the Ministry orders whilst Weasley looked on with a disgustingly smug expression. Draco knew Father was stalling, as, seemingly did Weasley, who began to polish his glasses as father read. He took the time to blow on them and then procure a white handkerchief out of an interior pocket of his off-the-rack robes.

Draco looked up at his mother, silently beseeching her for some explanation or reassurance. She smiled down at him, even though he could see the strain beneath the calm exterior, and grasped his shoulder. "Do not be afraid, Dear. Father will make everything alright."

Draco wanted to reach out for her hand, but he knew both of his parents expected him to remain stoic. He had learnt at an early age to show no fear. He needed to have faith in Father and to be brave. He squared his shoulders and mother gave him a sharp pat of approval before she withdrew her hand.

Suddenly the air was rent with a high pitched wailing sound, and Draco saw both Mother and Father visibly pale. There was an air of general calamity, and shouted spells could be heard over the alarum that had been raised. One of the Aurors who had previously left to search came running back and said with a calm gravity belied by his ruffled appearance, "You had better come, Arthur."

Weasley snatched the bundle of orders out of Father's hands, and nodded to the Aurors. Whilst the other Aurors immediately raised their wands, one stepped forward and demanded harshly, "Surrender your wands. You too, boy. Immediately!"

Draco was dreadfully confused and felt the first threads of genuine fear sneak up his spine. He was fairly certain the ear blistering sound had been the wards on Father's private library being torn down. The expressions on Mother and Father's faces, the way their eyes bore into one another's, that way they had of speaking without words, seemed to confirm it.

Mother held out her wand, which the closest Auror rudely snatched from her elegant hand. She let out a tiny inordinate gasp.

How dare he be so rough with Mother! Draco thought as he frowned at the Auror. He didn't voice his outrage because he knew she would not be pleased if he spoke it aloud.

Father looked at Mother again with an unreadable expression before he unsheathed his wand from his cane and fiercely slapped it into the Auror's outstretched hand with a grimace.

"Sit!" barked the Auror who had treated his mother with such disrespect. Draco was sure that Father would make a stand against the outrage occurring in their home, but both of his parents complied with alacrity. Draco gasped when the Auror cast Incarcerous on his parents.

One of the Aurors went behind Mother and began yanking on the strips of conjured cloth that bound her. Draco rushed to her side, “Oi! Take your filthy hands off her!”

"There is no need to be coarse, Draco “ Mother chided gently, "We musn't be rude. He's only following orders."

Draco wanted to protest, but a small moue of disappointment on her face stopped him.

"Yes, Mother," he said glumly.

"You just stand next to your mum and keep quiet, young man," the Auror said, ignoring Draco's glare.

He watched some of the Aurors pulling the darker volumes of books from the shelves and piling them in the middle of the carpet. A few other things joined the stack of books, but this was a room Mother entertained in, and there wasn't much here to interest the Aurors . The books they'd pulled down mostly contained a few questionable spells and potions, and one or two some writings about necromancy.

Draco knew some of the family heirlooms were dark indeed, but he'd never been allowed near those, so he couldn't say how dark exactly, but he felt sure his father wouldn't keep anything truly heinous in their home.

Would he?

Draco fretted with the hem of his lamb's wool robe before voices in the corridor heralded the return of Weasley and the Aurors. Finally the Ministry drones entered the library levitating various objects before them. Draco couldn't suppress the guttural sound that escaped his lips at the oily feel of dark magic emanating from the items. The Aurors lowered the objects into a separate pile and cast containment spells over them.

Draco glanced between his parents, but they were staring at each other with stony faces, although their eyes remained alert. They spoke volumes without saying a word.

Draco's attention was diverted from his parents by Weasley's approach. He stood looking first at Father, then Mother, then back to Father, his voice hard and without a shred of emotion when he spoke, " The Ministry honours the Muggle ban on the possession of Nazi artifacts with intent to sell, Malfoy. Did one of your ancestors serve Hitler as well as Grindelwald?"

Father didn't answer, simply glared at the man, his eyes now icy. "That book is covered in human skin. Another ancestor, or just a random Muggle?"

"You have no right to speak of my fa..." Draco's eyes widened and he shrank back as Weasley’s face flushed red with anger.

The blood traitor spat ."You… you have the temerity to call me a disgrace to purebloods! At least I am not the disgrace to humanity that you are, Lucius Malfoy! That chalice is cursed to poison anyone who drinks from it! That is a Muggle religious relic! It's used in the name of their god! And it has been profaned! What kind of monster does such a thing?"

"Arthur," Draco heard the Auror in charge say warningly, and Weasley took a deep breath and composed himself. "The Ministry charges will be amended to include attempt to commit murder for you, Malfoy, and your wife will be charged as an accessory."

He turned to the head Auror, snapping," Arrest them both and take them to the Ministry holding cells."

He then waved his wand, and Draco saw a silvery mist emanate from the tip, and watched in amazement as it coalesced into a shimmering weasel. "Tell Charity Burbage she is needed at Malfoy Manor."

He flicked his wand, and the sliver creature scuttled off, vanishing through one of the tall library windows. Draco wondered what the Muggle Studies professor was wanted for, and turned to his parents to ask. Both their mouths were moving furiously, but no sound emerged, and Draco realised they'd been silenced. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet with uncertainty, not quite knowing what to do, unsure if he was being detained as well.

Draco turned and looked from Mother to Father several times, seeking some sort of assurance. His parents stopped trying to talk, and Mother smiled at him, her blue eyes wide and kind. She held his gaze and he felt a little more sure with her reassuring expression. He turned to Father, who also held his gaze a moment, his icy blue eyes conveying a different form of reassurance. They were Malfoys. The Ministry could play their games, but Malfoys were untouchable.

Draco pulled his face back into a mask of stone, squared his shoulders, and presented the haughty Malfoy exterior he knew his parents expected of him. A confident outside that masked his roiling interior. He was terrified, confused, and wary, but he would not fail his parents by letting his cool facade slip no matter how tenuous his control was.

Noises from the entry hall signalled the arrival of Professor Burbage, who entered the library, a neutral expression on her face. Draco and his parents watched her greet the blood traitor Weasley, and after glancing at Draco and his parents, they moved away a bit for a whispered conversation.

Draco looked again at his parents, still confused as to why the Muggle Studies Professor was called. Perhaps to verify some of the objects as truly Muggle in origin? That was the only reasonable explanation Draco could think of.

Eventually Professor Burbage and Weasley finished their conversation, and Weasley nodded at the Aurors. The Auror who had cast the spell to bind his parents, waved his wand to remove it, and barked at them to stand.

"Move over by Mr. Weasley," he said gruffly to Draco. Both his parents nodded at him to comply. Mother’s gentle smile quivered, and Father’s jaw clenched, the only outward sign of their emotional turmoil. Seeing their self-control slip even a little, Draco knew if he did not comply it would cause them more distress, so he stepped away, the sick feeling of apprehension making his mouth dry and his breath to come faster.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Narcissa Anastasia Malfoy, you are under arrest by order The Ministry of Magic for…” Draco couldn’t seem to understand the words issuing from the Auror’s mouth. How could a day that started out so normally have turned to this?

"Say your goodbyes, Malfoy," Weasley said to Father, "Mrs. Malfoy, your son will be in capable hands."

"What do you mean?" Mother said sharply," he's done nothing wrong. You cannot arrest him! Our elves are perfectly capable of looking after him until this farce is over!"

“I'm afraid it no longer works that way, Mrs. Malfoy, " Professor Burbage said, stepping forward and speaking for the first time. "I'm here on behalf of the Department of Family and Children, to take your son into our custody..."

She was cut off by Mother, eyes wide, as her pitch and volume rose, "Custody? Lucius!"

Father drew himself up imperiously,"You will not touch our son! He stays here!"

Draco found himself shouting at the same moment, "What??!? NO! I'm not going anywhere!"

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter," Professor Burbage said over the din of raised voices. "An underaged child cannot be left to his own devices or in the care of house elves. I assure you, he will be cared for and safe.."

"Not better cared for or safer than in his own home," Mother countered, "Our elves have looked after our son since he was born. He has always had the best care. Our elves are unmatched in..."

"Cissy!" Father hissed and she abruptly stopped, closing her lips tightly, and schooling her face.

Draco stared at his parents in disbelief. Surely they weren't going to allow him to be removed from the Manor to be taken Merlin knew where, subjected to who knew what. He would no doubt be forced to share a cell with inferior people.

"I advise you to say your goodbyes, Lucius, Madam Malfoy. Your son needs your support right now," Weasley told his parents gruffly.

"Draco," Mother started , her voice catching. She took a shaking breath, closed her eyes and then said, "Dragon, g-go with them.."

"What?" Draco yelped, incredulous, "No! NO! Father– Mother– DO something!!"

"Draco, you must go with them, Son, everything will be set right, and then we will all go home." His father's words couldn't stop the wave of panic crashing over Draco upon realising there was nothing his father could do, and he would be abandoned to whatever fresh hell the Ministry had devised for their youngest prisoners.

"No!, " he shouted, "No! You can't leave me! You can't...no! I won't go! Mother! Father! You..you can't seriously think..."

The Aurors cast Incarcerous to bind both his parents' hands behind them, then directed them toward the door at wand point.

It seemed as if the world dimmed as his parents were taken out of the room. The blood traitor followed the Aurors out, closing the doors behind him.. Professor Burbage began speaking, but Draco, who had been frozen to the spot, couldn’t seem to make sense of her words. His heart felt as if it would blow out of his chest and his field of vision diminished to a pinpoint of light in a tunnel of darkness. His parents had been stolen from him. His life, as he knew it, had ended. He wouldn’t go without a fight, not like Father had.

Draco suddenly found himself in front of the Professor, his hands on her upper arms. He was shaking her. “I will not fucking go with you! I won’t and you can’t make me!”

She somehow broke from him, he didn’t know how, and he was satisfied to see her expression of fear mingled with pain. He took a quavering breath, hating the sobbing note at the beginning of it. He would not be weak, not in front of a person, a blood traitor that taught that Muggles were more than mere animals.

The foolish woman reached out to him and attempted to touch his shoulder, and he ran to the door, pulling on the handle to leave. Weasley had locked it to imprison him until he was ready to take Draco to the children’s prison. He began crashing into it with his whole body.. He slammed into it over and again, until his shoulder ached and his breath was coming in hard, hot chuffs, his cheeks drenched with what had to be sweat. He would not cry. He wouldn’t.

He hit the door one more time and screamed until his throat could bear no more. He sank to the floor, his legs unable to hold him any longer, his eyes burning, and that strange wetness on his cheeks increasing.

“Draco….” Burbage said again, she knelt on the floor, her drab robes spilling into his peripheral vision, her hand held out in supplication, ‘Draco, I know you’re frightened…”

“I’m not frightened!” he cried and made his legs hold him so that he could escape. He dodged to the large window that dominated the only exterior section of the room. “Fuck you, and fuck your pity! You worthless piece of goblin shite!”

He reached the window and began scrabbling against the sill trying to open it, knowing that Father’d had them sealed by the elves to keep out mildew and insects. He clawed at the wood, breaking fingernails past the quick as he heard one of the doors open and soft footfalls approach him.

"Draco,” Weasley said, but Draco renewed his efforts with the window, even though he knew it was hopeless. He didn't have his wand, and not only were they spelled shut, they were spelled Unbreakable as well.

"Draco,' Mr Weasley said again, and Draco gave a last feeble attempt before climbing down. He stood with his back to the man, his shoulders hunched and shaking, trying not to cry at the hopelessness of his situation. After a moment, he gulped in deep breaths, getting somewhat of a grip on himself. He turned around, intent on making a last futile run for it. He knew the Manor, they didn't. He'd simply hide til they gave up. The elves would help.

When he turned round, Weasley immediately gripped Draco's shoulders. The hold was firm, yet not hurtful, designed to hold him in place.

"Draco, look at me please," the man said kindly but Draco knew an order when he heard it, no matter how benignly it was said. Grudgingly he looked up at the bespectacled man with his earnest expression.

"Draco," he repeated, " I understand how confusing all of this must be for you. How wrong-footed and unsure you must be feeling. This must seem like a nightmare, everyone bursting in, strangers all over your home. Your parents were taken away. You're probably feeling quite resentful toward me right now, and that's understandable. You blame me, and that's also understandable. I don't fault you at all for feeling any of these things. I want you to know that you are not being arrested. You are not being incarcerated. You will not be punished, locked up, or mistreated. What will happen is that Professor Burbage, who is the acting Assistant Head of the Department of Family and Children, will take you to the Ministry, where there is housing for young men and women in your situation.”

Weasley took a breath and continued. “This is not a jail. Think of it as more like one of the dormitories at Hogwarts. You'll be given a room, you may bring your own things, clothing, books, and such. Meals will be provided. Rather like a hotel. You'll stay there until it's determined what will happen with your parents. The important thing to remember is that it's temporary. You must do this, and you must remain calm. "

Mr. Weasley lifted one hand off his shoulder,and Draco bit his bottom lip until he had fought his tears down and managed to croak "W-will I get my wand back?"

With a look of regret, Mr Weasley said " I'm sorry, but no. It will be held for you and kept safe, until you leave the facility."

“Will I be allowed to see my p-parents?"

Mr. Weasley glanced at Professor Burbage, who said, "At some point, most likely, but it's difficult to say exactly when, Draco. There's a process that must be followed."

"I don't understand why I can't simply stay here," Draco said, hating the pleading note in his own voice. "Smidget will look after me. She always has! You…you can even keep one of your Aurors here! Y-you already took my parents, you can at least leave me in my home! There's no reason to make me go stay in your.... hotel!"

"We can't do that, Draco,” Professor Burbage said, "You're under-aged.."

" Yes, so you already have a trace on me!" Draco said, grasping at any straw available.

"Draco," Mr Weasley said again, in that voice that somehow compelled Draco to pay . "You know that we cannot leave you without an adult present, no matter how capable your elves are. It's the law."

Draco and the ginger man looked at one another for a moment. Draco could see no out. He had no arguments left. He was defeated.

"Will you go with Professor Burbage ?" Mr Weasley asked.

Reluctantly, and against every inner voice telling him the opposite, Draco huffed out a breath and nodded his head in resignation.