Coming Home I: Familiarization of Liberty, chapter two
Chapter list
Previous Chapter
I don't own anything; it's the property of JKR, Raincoast, RTD, Cowlip, Showtime, et al.
"Cecily Boden's shocking marriage to Kirk Strange" belongs to Beren (from Gold Tinted Spectacles) and is used without permission.
Warnings for this story: slash, of course, language, adult themes.
Additional notes, including spoilers, etc, can be found before the first chapter.
For Rainbow2007.
Originally posted: 15 Feb. '09
Coming Home I: Familiarization of Liberty
Chapter Two
Draco arrived at his destination, grateful that he didn’t appear to have been barred from the residence preventatively and a bit scornful at the naïveté of the occupants for not doing so, at least until he tried to exit the fireplace. He found himself caught there, unable to raise his arms or move his legs. After a few moments of repeated trying, he finally gave in and called out to the house like a common hooligan, “Hello?”
He noticed movement across the room a moment later and had time to identify the form of a woman - Aunt Bella? - before she drew her wand and stunned him.
He woke slowly, in that groggy manner unique to Enervate, and that was enough to remind him what had happened. He hesitated before opening his eyes, not knowing what he would find when he did. There was no doubt the spell had worked, however, so the longer he delayed, the more cowardly he looked. Since that would only diminish any power he would have in the ensuing discussion, the pause he permitted himself was short.
The first thing he saw was his wand, lying next to the tea service on the table in front of him, taunting him with its tantalizingly inaccessible proximity, and there, next to his wand, were the items from his pockets, including the letter, the trunk, and the emergency Portkey he'd carried since he'd been deemed mature enough to wander Diagon Alley on his own. He felt violated that they'd searched him while he was unconscious but simultaneously less scornful since he understood why they had done it.
He was sitting on the settee, as perfectly dignified as if he’d come to take tea with his aunt, not bound in any way, magically or physically. Seated across from him was the woman who stunned him, and, fortunately for Draco's peace of mind, the similarity in appearance between Andromeda Tonks (for that was who she must be) and her elder sister lessened with decreasing of both the distance between them and Draco's level of panic. The only other occupant of the room was leaning on the frame of the door to the rest of the house - with a direct line of fire to both himself and the fireplace, he noted. She was a uniformed Auror whose pink hair clashed horribly with the red robes, and her identity was equally easy to guess. With her arms crossed and her posture slouched, she looked like nothing so much as a sullen teenager making a forced appearance; however, he knew, without a doubt, that her wand was trained on him and that she wouldn’t hesitate to use it if he attempted to reach for his own.
The room was decorated as tastefully, if less expensively than the house he'd grown up in. Before he'd noticed more than a general impression, his perusal was interrupted by his aunt's voice. "I apologize for the lack of a proper greeting; it was inordinately rude. Tea?" With as much grace as his mother had ever shown, she reached for the pot and began to pour two cups. Draco suspected that the Auror refused more because she would have had to change her position than any other reason.
“Please. And think nothing of it; it was perfectly understandable, under the circumstances. I apologize for not giving proper notice of my intent to call.” He accepted the cup she offered him. “Thank you, Mrs. Tonks.”
He brought the cup to his mouth but blew on his tea rather than drinking - because it was hot, not because he suspected it was laced or otherwise contaminated, despite the Auror’s accusing smirk. He was glad he’d chosen to delay drinking when the next words out of the elder Tonks’s mouth were “You’re very welcome. And you may call me Aunt Andromeda, or even Dromie, if you'd like.”
The younger woman’s jaw dropped as she stared at her mother in disbelief. Draco, unfortunately, was much too shocked himself to properly appreciate it, and he kept his own jaw locked by sheer force of will.
Raised in a strict pure-blood household herself, his aunt understood the shame of being forced to show emotion and turned to her daughter, courteously giving Draco a moment to collect himself. "Who has the right more than he?" Draco recognized the challenging tone as one his own mother used, and he understood completely when his cousin backed down with nothing more than a shake of her head. When Andromeda - Dromie? - looked back, the younger woman glared at him, daring him to mock her capitulation, but he was still absorbing what he’d learned.
"You're Dromie?" That put an entirely different spin on his mother's stories of her childhood. “Dromie” had played prominently in nearly all of the tales, caring for her, playing with her, creating entertainments for her…. He’d assumed Dromie had been an extremely dedicated house elf.
She smiled at him, a gentle combination of understanding and amusement, then waved to the other woman. "And this is your cousin, Dora."
"Tonks," she corrected defiantly, and her mother sighed softly. Draco thought the reminder both unnecessary - it wasn’t as though he’d been unaware of her parentage - and rude.
“Draco, please.” He extended the courtesy to both of them, partly to show his cousin that he would not stoop to her level.
For a few moments, Draco and Aunt Andromeda spoke of the most general pleasantries. It was a careful conversation, given the number of topics that were entirely out of the question and the number that could have unexpected pitfalls. They stuck to the most banal topics - they actually discussed Celestina Warbeck's recent release and Cecily Boden's shocking marriage to Kirk Strange, but the pure-blood Slytherin in him was delighted at the exercise, and he rather thought Andromeda was enjoying herself as well.
The younger Tonks, clearly, was not. She remained a sentinel in the doorway, sullen and quiet, until she finally interrupted Draco mid-sentence. “Why are you here?”
“Dora!”
"It's fine, Aunt Andromeda," Draco could see his cousin's expression from where he sat, and it had been getting darker by the moment. Regrettably, he needed the good will of these people, so rather than testing her patience further, he picked up the letter lying on the table next to his shrunken trunk and satchel. "When my mother told me to give this to my aunt, I assumed she didn't mean Aunt Bellatrix, and I think I was right." He tried to hand it to Andromeda, but she glanced at it and nodded, distractedly, her attention shifting to the trunk. She reached out and ran her finger gently along the edge. "Where did you find this?"
"It was in our Gringotts vault. My mother gave it to me."
"When?" she asked, not with suspicion, but purposefully.
"This afternoon."
She nodded again. "What did she say?"
Draco looked at her, wondering what relevance that would have, but Andromeda must have assumed he'd misunderstood because she repeated the question, somewhat impatiently. "When she gave it to you, what did she say?"
"That is belonged to my many times great grandfather and that he'd duel the monsters under the bed when I was sleeping," he replied, knowing it came out more sharply than it should have, under the circumstances. He took a deep breath and bit his tongue. Hard. Maybe the pain would serve as a reminder to watch his words.
"Verbatim, please." There was a note of something desperate in her voice, and her daughter looked as though she were thinking of casting a series of scanning spells or hexes at the trunk, so Draco repeated what he could remember. "She said it belonged to a distant relative on the Malfoy side. That having something from home would be comforting while I was away. That it was better made than anything I'd buy in a store, and that 'family, above all, should be remembered, treasured, even if it is indirectly.'" Thinking about how little his family treasured him, he nearly scoffed aloud at the irony and shook his head to clear the regret. "Then, she shrunk it, and we left."
Andromeda's expression relaxed and she sighed. "Oh, Cissy. You always were a drama queen." The description was so unlike his elegant, restrained mother that Draco nearly snorted. He wanted - hoped - Andromeda would continue, but she didn't.
"She shrunk it." Tonks said carefully, but a hint of accusation came through.
"Obviously. I'm not allowed outside of term." That hadn’t stopped him within the wards of Malfoy Manor, of course, but he knew the letter of the law.
"Without opening it."
What she meant, Draco realized, was without knowing what was in it. They'd been warned at Hogwarts from their first transfiguration lessons about the dangers of doing that. It could be incredibly dangerous if the contents were potions ingredients for example, or other substances that could react badly.
He realized, too, that the goblin had seen her do it, and that could put her at great risk. Fortunately, the chance of Lucius Malfoy deigning to speak to one of the goblins outside of business transactions was minimal and of the goblin volunteering the information, non-existent, but if Lucius had reason to suspect her complicity in his escape and was searching for evidence of it, he would eventually get there. Draco needed to find a way to protect her.
Considering the enormity of the risk, Draco wondered what was in it, and he clearly wasn’t the only one. Still shaking her head, Andromeda put the trunk on the floor and enlarged it.
"Wait!" Draco and Tonks exclaimed in unison.
She ignored them and gently traced the monogram with her finger. Draco looked up at Tonks, hoping to find a clue to what was so fascinating, but she was looking back at him just as curiously.
"What do you want?”
“Leave him alone, Dora.”
He knew that if he were going to need their help - and he was - it would be easier if they understood his motivation. As much as he disliked the idea of telling virtual strangers - ones who had traditionally been enemies at that - his most intimate secrets, Draco explained what he'd been ordered to do. "I think telling Muggles about the Magical world is tantamount to suicide," he finished, "and I think that welcoming Mu-ggleborns the way we do currently dilutes the integrity of our society. I do not think Muggles need to be exterminated, I do not think one of the most powerful Wizards in three centuries needs to be assassinated, and I most certainly do not think that children should be ordered to become murderers before they've taken their N.E.W.T.S.!" He took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. He was only marginally successful.
"I'd be all noble and offer to switch sides, but I've not had lessons enough in Occlumency to become a spy, and, frankly, I don't trust your side to defend a Malfoy with the diligence that would be necessary.” Knowing Tonks would take offence at that, he quickly cut off her protest. “I'm a traitor now, and an example will need to be made. Protecting me would require the same dedication and resources that are used to defend Potter. That won't happen, so I'll be dead in very short order. Or worse. So I need to hide somewhere they won't think to look for me."
He took a deep breath, still shocked that this had become his only option. "The Muggle world." He turned to Andromeda, the more sympathetic half of his audience. "Will you help me, please?"
“You don’t need to ask.” She tapped the sealed envelope on the table. “Your mother already did.”
Draco's jaw dropped.
The following days were interminable.
Despite the translation of 'ante omnia, sorores' - sisters above all - the letter was intended for neither Andromeda nor Bellatrix, though Draco was right to bring it to Andromeda, since she was the only one who could connect Draco to the woman - the Muggle - for whom it was intended. How Narcissa Malfoy knew a Muggle at all was beyond his imagination, but it would, at least, be a connection of some kind, which was better than attempting to navigate a strange world without one.
Nymphadora - he understood, hearing that, the preference to be called by her surname - couldn't remove the Trace on his wand, so he was given a replacement, a wand that had belonged to an uncle he had barely remembered existed as he'd been disowned by the family long before Draco had been born. His father had lent him another at times, but it was kept in his desk behind complicated locking charms, and he’d deemed it not worth the risk of attempting to liberate.
This wand wasn't a terrific match, but it would work well enough in an emergency, which would be the only time Draco could use it if he hoped to remain hidden. It was a relief, since he'd known he wouldn't be able to use his own. Not that he would need it any time soon, as Draco was restricted to the house with no contact with the outside world while they planned his escape.
The possibility of returning to Malfoy Manor and spying had been raised, almost immediately; it was such an obvious use of the qualities Slytherin was known for. Possibly, Draco could have returned home, several hours late, with an excuse that would mollify his father and Voldemort, but Draco couldn't think of one. Admittedly, he didn't try very hard, but neither could anyone else.
In addition to the difficulties he’d raised in that initial conversation with Andromeda and Tonks, which he’d overheard her repeating to Shacklebolt, she had added, with a significant look, a warning about the dangers of exposing someone to that sort of life so young as sixteen. Draco took that to mean that something had happened to someone in a similar situation, and he wondered who it could have been. After several days of contemplation - it wasn't as though he had much else to do - he decided that Wormtail must have been sent in to spy but been converted instead. Having seen the rat-like man fawning over his master both in the Dark Lord's presence and out of it, Draco could have assured them that he, Draco, had far greater strength of character, but that would have threatened Draco's life expectancy far more than the satisfaction would have been worth. So he didn't say anything, on that subject at least.
He did take the first available opportunity to draw Tonks and Shacklebolt's attention to the fact that his mother had put herself in great danger going against the Dark Lord. They assured him she would do what she could for his mother, but all three were aware of how little that was, given the animosity between the Tonks and Malfoy families and that they were on opposite sides of the war.
A few days later, Tonks took a moment to assure him that she’d seen his mother when she was working security for a society event the previous evening, and that she'd seemed in good health. Draco, knowing how adept his mother was at concealing her emotions, knew better than to ask if she'd seemed worried.
One of Ted Tonks' Muggle relatives was asked to make the travel arrangements, and Tonks had provided him with a sort of cloth trunk that included several changes of Muggle clothing. Draco assumed the procurer wasn't Tonks, as there was a note included, and she could have just told him the information. There were collared shirts, jumpers, and dress trousers, as well as t-shirts and denim trousers, which. according to the note, would allow for casual wear to somewhat formal. The author of the note specified which combinations would fall into which category and also recommended that the denim would be more practical for traveling long distances since the trousers weren't spelled with an anti-wrinkle charm.
Once Tonks and whoever else she'd had look at it had determined that there were no traps hidden on or in the trunk, Draco was allowed to open it. Inside, they found galleons stacked nearly to the brim, and a photo of Narcissa that frozen in place so Draco could take it with him into the Muggle world.
Draco was happy to be able to repay the expenses incurred by the travel and clothing once the galleons had been exchanged (by whom, Draco did not know) for Muggle currencies. Not only did they use paper, primarily, instead of gold of any kind - and Andromeda had had the devil's own time convincing him that he hadn't been cheated - but they couldn't agree on a uniform system. It had been a long, frustrating discussion, but Draco eventually understood currency and rates of exchange.
It had been one of many lessons in Muggle society that Draco had endured while trapped behind the wards of the Tonks residence. The only thing that made them bearable - aside from Draco's reluctant acceptance of the necessity of them - was that he wasn't being questioned about the activities of his family, their friends, anyone who'd ever entered Malfoy Manor.
Once, over dinner, Narcissa had commented that it was a shame that the mongrel (meaning Tonks) was tainted; under other circumstances she’d have been a very useful convert to the cause. He understood now, what his mother had meant. She was bright, talented, and a skilled interrogator.
Draco revealed the location of as much contraband as he was aware of, in Malfoy Manor and elsewhere, and reported on what else he'd seen passing through. He named all the Death Eaters he could and what he knew about their activities - though he was careful to avoid linking Snape to any significant current activities whenever possible. The lesser charges they could accrue from Draco's testimony would be enough to arrest Snape if they wanted but not serious enough to put him away for long. As much as Draco would have preferred to give them nothing at all, if all senior Death Eaters were captured but one, it would look suspicious. As it was, the Aurors seemed surprised that he was unable to tie Snape to more. He was careful not to lie outright; he didn't want to risk casting doubt on the rest of his testimony, but he was equally careful to point out that he had no proof. Technically, other than his word, he didn't for many of the others, either, but he didn't draw attention to that.
Draco would have felt guilty - Snape had to be the Dark Lord's spy closest to Dumbledore and was no doubt wreaking havoc on their side, but he was needed in Slytherin. He was a good head of house, and contrary to the accusations of others, he did not actively recruit his students. There was no one else on staff that Draco would trust with the Slytherins. Besides, Draco knew he'd given them enough to arrest Fudge, had given them more than enough to prove that he was Lucius' willing lackey and unfit for office. If they wanted Snape, on anything major, they'd have to catch him themselves.
The night before leaving, Draco realized with surprise that he regretted that he hadn't had more time to get to know this portion of his family, but in the end, he had to do what he had to do, including one small betrayal of their trust. He sent one owl.
Next Chapter
Previous Chapter
I don't own anything; it's the property of JKR, Raincoast, RTD, Cowlip, Showtime, et al.
"Cecily Boden's shocking marriage to Kirk Strange" belongs to Beren (from Gold Tinted Spectacles) and is used without permission.
Warnings for this story: slash, of course, language, adult themes.
Additional notes, including spoilers, etc, can be found before the first chapter.
For Rainbow2007.
Originally posted: 15 Feb. '09
Coming Home I: Familiarization of Liberty
Chapter Two
Draco arrived at his destination, grateful that he didn’t appear to have been barred from the residence preventatively and a bit scornful at the naïveté of the occupants for not doing so, at least until he tried to exit the fireplace. He found himself caught there, unable to raise his arms or move his legs. After a few moments of repeated trying, he finally gave in and called out to the house like a common hooligan, “Hello?”
He noticed movement across the room a moment later and had time to identify the form of a woman - Aunt Bella? - before she drew her wand and stunned him.
He woke slowly, in that groggy manner unique to Enervate, and that was enough to remind him what had happened. He hesitated before opening his eyes, not knowing what he would find when he did. There was no doubt the spell had worked, however, so the longer he delayed, the more cowardly he looked. Since that would only diminish any power he would have in the ensuing discussion, the pause he permitted himself was short.
The first thing he saw was his wand, lying next to the tea service on the table in front of him, taunting him with its tantalizingly inaccessible proximity, and there, next to his wand, were the items from his pockets, including the letter, the trunk, and the emergency Portkey he'd carried since he'd been deemed mature enough to wander Diagon Alley on his own. He felt violated that they'd searched him while he was unconscious but simultaneously less scornful since he understood why they had done it.
He was sitting on the settee, as perfectly dignified as if he’d come to take tea with his aunt, not bound in any way, magically or physically. Seated across from him was the woman who stunned him, and, fortunately for Draco's peace of mind, the similarity in appearance between Andromeda Tonks (for that was who she must be) and her elder sister lessened with decreasing of both the distance between them and Draco's level of panic. The only other occupant of the room was leaning on the frame of the door to the rest of the house - with a direct line of fire to both himself and the fireplace, he noted. She was a uniformed Auror whose pink hair clashed horribly with the red robes, and her identity was equally easy to guess. With her arms crossed and her posture slouched, she looked like nothing so much as a sullen teenager making a forced appearance; however, he knew, without a doubt, that her wand was trained on him and that she wouldn’t hesitate to use it if he attempted to reach for his own.
The room was decorated as tastefully, if less expensively than the house he'd grown up in. Before he'd noticed more than a general impression, his perusal was interrupted by his aunt's voice. "I apologize for the lack of a proper greeting; it was inordinately rude. Tea?" With as much grace as his mother had ever shown, she reached for the pot and began to pour two cups. Draco suspected that the Auror refused more because she would have had to change her position than any other reason.
“Please. And think nothing of it; it was perfectly understandable, under the circumstances. I apologize for not giving proper notice of my intent to call.” He accepted the cup she offered him. “Thank you, Mrs. Tonks.”
He brought the cup to his mouth but blew on his tea rather than drinking - because it was hot, not because he suspected it was laced or otherwise contaminated, despite the Auror’s accusing smirk. He was glad he’d chosen to delay drinking when the next words out of the elder Tonks’s mouth were “You’re very welcome. And you may call me Aunt Andromeda, or even Dromie, if you'd like.”
The younger woman’s jaw dropped as she stared at her mother in disbelief. Draco, unfortunately, was much too shocked himself to properly appreciate it, and he kept his own jaw locked by sheer force of will.
Raised in a strict pure-blood household herself, his aunt understood the shame of being forced to show emotion and turned to her daughter, courteously giving Draco a moment to collect himself. "Who has the right more than he?" Draco recognized the challenging tone as one his own mother used, and he understood completely when his cousin backed down with nothing more than a shake of her head. When Andromeda - Dromie? - looked back, the younger woman glared at him, daring him to mock her capitulation, but he was still absorbing what he’d learned.
"You're Dromie?" That put an entirely different spin on his mother's stories of her childhood. “Dromie” had played prominently in nearly all of the tales, caring for her, playing with her, creating entertainments for her…. He’d assumed Dromie had been an extremely dedicated house elf.
She smiled at him, a gentle combination of understanding and amusement, then waved to the other woman. "And this is your cousin, Dora."
"Tonks," she corrected defiantly, and her mother sighed softly. Draco thought the reminder both unnecessary - it wasn’t as though he’d been unaware of her parentage - and rude.
“Draco, please.” He extended the courtesy to both of them, partly to show his cousin that he would not stoop to her level.
For a few moments, Draco and Aunt Andromeda spoke of the most general pleasantries. It was a careful conversation, given the number of topics that were entirely out of the question and the number that could have unexpected pitfalls. They stuck to the most banal topics - they actually discussed Celestina Warbeck's recent release and Cecily Boden's shocking marriage to Kirk Strange, but the pure-blood Slytherin in him was delighted at the exercise, and he rather thought Andromeda was enjoying herself as well.
The younger Tonks, clearly, was not. She remained a sentinel in the doorway, sullen and quiet, until she finally interrupted Draco mid-sentence. “Why are you here?”
“Dora!”
"It's fine, Aunt Andromeda," Draco could see his cousin's expression from where he sat, and it had been getting darker by the moment. Regrettably, he needed the good will of these people, so rather than testing her patience further, he picked up the letter lying on the table next to his shrunken trunk and satchel. "When my mother told me to give this to my aunt, I assumed she didn't mean Aunt Bellatrix, and I think I was right." He tried to hand it to Andromeda, but she glanced at it and nodded, distractedly, her attention shifting to the trunk. She reached out and ran her finger gently along the edge. "Where did you find this?"
"It was in our Gringotts vault. My mother gave it to me."
"When?" she asked, not with suspicion, but purposefully.
"This afternoon."
She nodded again. "What did she say?"
Draco looked at her, wondering what relevance that would have, but Andromeda must have assumed he'd misunderstood because she repeated the question, somewhat impatiently. "When she gave it to you, what did she say?"
"That is belonged to my many times great grandfather and that he'd duel the monsters under the bed when I was sleeping," he replied, knowing it came out more sharply than it should have, under the circumstances. He took a deep breath and bit his tongue. Hard. Maybe the pain would serve as a reminder to watch his words.
"Verbatim, please." There was a note of something desperate in her voice, and her daughter looked as though she were thinking of casting a series of scanning spells or hexes at the trunk, so Draco repeated what he could remember. "She said it belonged to a distant relative on the Malfoy side. That having something from home would be comforting while I was away. That it was better made than anything I'd buy in a store, and that 'family, above all, should be remembered, treasured, even if it is indirectly.'" Thinking about how little his family treasured him, he nearly scoffed aloud at the irony and shook his head to clear the regret. "Then, she shrunk it, and we left."
Andromeda's expression relaxed and she sighed. "Oh, Cissy. You always were a drama queen." The description was so unlike his elegant, restrained mother that Draco nearly snorted. He wanted - hoped - Andromeda would continue, but she didn't.
"She shrunk it." Tonks said carefully, but a hint of accusation came through.
"Obviously. I'm not allowed outside of term." That hadn’t stopped him within the wards of Malfoy Manor, of course, but he knew the letter of the law.
"Without opening it."
What she meant, Draco realized, was without knowing what was in it. They'd been warned at Hogwarts from their first transfiguration lessons about the dangers of doing that. It could be incredibly dangerous if the contents were potions ingredients for example, or other substances that could react badly.
He realized, too, that the goblin had seen her do it, and that could put her at great risk. Fortunately, the chance of Lucius Malfoy deigning to speak to one of the goblins outside of business transactions was minimal and of the goblin volunteering the information, non-existent, but if Lucius had reason to suspect her complicity in his escape and was searching for evidence of it, he would eventually get there. Draco needed to find a way to protect her.
Considering the enormity of the risk, Draco wondered what was in it, and he clearly wasn’t the only one. Still shaking her head, Andromeda put the trunk on the floor and enlarged it.
"Wait!" Draco and Tonks exclaimed in unison.
She ignored them and gently traced the monogram with her finger. Draco looked up at Tonks, hoping to find a clue to what was so fascinating, but she was looking back at him just as curiously.
"What do you want?”
“Leave him alone, Dora.”
He knew that if he were going to need their help - and he was - it would be easier if they understood his motivation. As much as he disliked the idea of telling virtual strangers - ones who had traditionally been enemies at that - his most intimate secrets, Draco explained what he'd been ordered to do. "I think telling Muggles about the Magical world is tantamount to suicide," he finished, "and I think that welcoming Mu-ggleborns the way we do currently dilutes the integrity of our society. I do not think Muggles need to be exterminated, I do not think one of the most powerful Wizards in three centuries needs to be assassinated, and I most certainly do not think that children should be ordered to become murderers before they've taken their N.E.W.T.S.!" He took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. He was only marginally successful.
"I'd be all noble and offer to switch sides, but I've not had lessons enough in Occlumency to become a spy, and, frankly, I don't trust your side to defend a Malfoy with the diligence that would be necessary.” Knowing Tonks would take offence at that, he quickly cut off her protest. “I'm a traitor now, and an example will need to be made. Protecting me would require the same dedication and resources that are used to defend Potter. That won't happen, so I'll be dead in very short order. Or worse. So I need to hide somewhere they won't think to look for me."
He took a deep breath, still shocked that this had become his only option. "The Muggle world." He turned to Andromeda, the more sympathetic half of his audience. "Will you help me, please?"
“You don’t need to ask.” She tapped the sealed envelope on the table. “Your mother already did.”
Draco's jaw dropped.
The following days were interminable.
Despite the translation of 'ante omnia, sorores' - sisters above all - the letter was intended for neither Andromeda nor Bellatrix, though Draco was right to bring it to Andromeda, since she was the only one who could connect Draco to the woman - the Muggle - for whom it was intended. How Narcissa Malfoy knew a Muggle at all was beyond his imagination, but it would, at least, be a connection of some kind, which was better than attempting to navigate a strange world without one.
Nymphadora - he understood, hearing that, the preference to be called by her surname - couldn't remove the Trace on his wand, so he was given a replacement, a wand that had belonged to an uncle he had barely remembered existed as he'd been disowned by the family long before Draco had been born. His father had lent him another at times, but it was kept in his desk behind complicated locking charms, and he’d deemed it not worth the risk of attempting to liberate.
This wand wasn't a terrific match, but it would work well enough in an emergency, which would be the only time Draco could use it if he hoped to remain hidden. It was a relief, since he'd known he wouldn't be able to use his own. Not that he would need it any time soon, as Draco was restricted to the house with no contact with the outside world while they planned his escape.
The possibility of returning to Malfoy Manor and spying had been raised, almost immediately; it was such an obvious use of the qualities Slytherin was known for. Possibly, Draco could have returned home, several hours late, with an excuse that would mollify his father and Voldemort, but Draco couldn't think of one. Admittedly, he didn't try very hard, but neither could anyone else.
In addition to the difficulties he’d raised in that initial conversation with Andromeda and Tonks, which he’d overheard her repeating to Shacklebolt, she had added, with a significant look, a warning about the dangers of exposing someone to that sort of life so young as sixteen. Draco took that to mean that something had happened to someone in a similar situation, and he wondered who it could have been. After several days of contemplation - it wasn't as though he had much else to do - he decided that Wormtail must have been sent in to spy but been converted instead. Having seen the rat-like man fawning over his master both in the Dark Lord's presence and out of it, Draco could have assured them that he, Draco, had far greater strength of character, but that would have threatened Draco's life expectancy far more than the satisfaction would have been worth. So he didn't say anything, on that subject at least.
He did take the first available opportunity to draw Tonks and Shacklebolt's attention to the fact that his mother had put herself in great danger going against the Dark Lord. They assured him she would do what she could for his mother, but all three were aware of how little that was, given the animosity between the Tonks and Malfoy families and that they were on opposite sides of the war.
A few days later, Tonks took a moment to assure him that she’d seen his mother when she was working security for a society event the previous evening, and that she'd seemed in good health. Draco, knowing how adept his mother was at concealing her emotions, knew better than to ask if she'd seemed worried.
One of Ted Tonks' Muggle relatives was asked to make the travel arrangements, and Tonks had provided him with a sort of cloth trunk that included several changes of Muggle clothing. Draco assumed the procurer wasn't Tonks, as there was a note included, and she could have just told him the information. There were collared shirts, jumpers, and dress trousers, as well as t-shirts and denim trousers, which. according to the note, would allow for casual wear to somewhat formal. The author of the note specified which combinations would fall into which category and also recommended that the denim would be more practical for traveling long distances since the trousers weren't spelled with an anti-wrinkle charm.
Once Tonks and whoever else she'd had look at it had determined that there were no traps hidden on or in the trunk, Draco was allowed to open it. Inside, they found galleons stacked nearly to the brim, and a photo of Narcissa that frozen in place so Draco could take it with him into the Muggle world.
Draco was happy to be able to repay the expenses incurred by the travel and clothing once the galleons had been exchanged (by whom, Draco did not know) for Muggle currencies. Not only did they use paper, primarily, instead of gold of any kind - and Andromeda had had the devil's own time convincing him that he hadn't been cheated - but they couldn't agree on a uniform system. It had been a long, frustrating discussion, but Draco eventually understood currency and rates of exchange.
It had been one of many lessons in Muggle society that Draco had endured while trapped behind the wards of the Tonks residence. The only thing that made them bearable - aside from Draco's reluctant acceptance of the necessity of them - was that he wasn't being questioned about the activities of his family, their friends, anyone who'd ever entered Malfoy Manor.
Once, over dinner, Narcissa had commented that it was a shame that the mongrel (meaning Tonks) was tainted; under other circumstances she’d have been a very useful convert to the cause. He understood now, what his mother had meant. She was bright, talented, and a skilled interrogator.
Draco revealed the location of as much contraband as he was aware of, in Malfoy Manor and elsewhere, and reported on what else he'd seen passing through. He named all the Death Eaters he could and what he knew about their activities - though he was careful to avoid linking Snape to any significant current activities whenever possible. The lesser charges they could accrue from Draco's testimony would be enough to arrest Snape if they wanted but not serious enough to put him away for long. As much as Draco would have preferred to give them nothing at all, if all senior Death Eaters were captured but one, it would look suspicious. As it was, the Aurors seemed surprised that he was unable to tie Snape to more. He was careful not to lie outright; he didn't want to risk casting doubt on the rest of his testimony, but he was equally careful to point out that he had no proof. Technically, other than his word, he didn't for many of the others, either, but he didn't draw attention to that.
Draco would have felt guilty - Snape had to be the Dark Lord's spy closest to Dumbledore and was no doubt wreaking havoc on their side, but he was needed in Slytherin. He was a good head of house, and contrary to the accusations of others, he did not actively recruit his students. There was no one else on staff that Draco would trust with the Slytherins. Besides, Draco knew he'd given them enough to arrest Fudge, had given them more than enough to prove that he was Lucius' willing lackey and unfit for office. If they wanted Snape, on anything major, they'd have to catch him themselves.
The night before leaving, Draco realized with surprise that he regretted that he hadn't had more time to get to know this portion of his family, but in the end, he had to do what he had to do, including one small betrayal of their trust. He sent one owl.
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