But perhaps there was an opportunity now to correct the mistakes of his past…Potter had declared a truce on the basis of upholding family honour. Granger had even told Draco that Potter took it seriously enough he'd warned the Weasel off provoking Draco. With his own vow of neutrality, Draco was prevented from the type of confrontations he'd made in the past anyway. Potter and Granger had even been surprisingly good company at the country estate especially since they didn't have the Weasel hanging around them.
So, a clean slate.
Draco could take advantage of that. He could talk with Potter at Simeon's farewell meal on Friday and discuss how Draco could help him with the Slytherin students. He nodded slowly, acceptance finally creeping in and stealing over him. In a way it was a good thing he was part of the House of Black. Maybe he wasn't the Heir but he had Black blood and that counted even if his name was Malfoy. It would certainly help him see off any pretenders like Nott trying to usurp his place…
But he was going to have to work with Nott that was clear. The House of Black was allied and Nott clearly had intentions on making himself useful to Potter. Draco bit his lip and thought hard about how he could sway Nott, how he could keep him under control…
"Well, that was a bloody waste of time!" The sound of Lord Wilkes's voice booming out from the open window below the balcony had Draco almost jumping out of his seat as his heartbeat accelerated alarmingly.
He'd forgotten his father's study was directly below the music room.
He sat still and silent, keenly listening.
"I hate to agree with Norman, but he's right, Lucius," Nott Senior's voice said quietly, "that was a waste of time."
"Not a complete waste of time," Lucius argued calmly, "we did discover from Yaxley that whoever it is making these death threats owns a house elf."
"We already knew that!" Wilkes barked. "We knew that from the first death threat!"
Death threats? Draco's eyes widened realising what they were discussing.
"No, we knew they had used one to send a letter the first time," Lucius said, "which meant it could have been any guest staying with someone who had a house elf. This tells us that whoever it was had the ability to call a house elf themselves although I'm surprised Augusta doesn't have wards preventing any but her own elves from entry."
"Everyone who owns a house elf in our group has denied doing the deed!" Wilkes snapped back.
"And nobody in our group would stoop to lying?" questioned Lucius mildly.
Draco almost snorted but he stopped himself, knowing if he gave away his position his father would be furious – more so that he'd been caught than that he was eavesdropping.
"I don't think anyone is lying," Nott said with quiet authority, "everyone knows not to draw unwanted attention to us especially now."
"Travers is fuming because someone is stealing his limelight." Lucius commented dryly. "You should read the letter I received."
"Do you think that this idiot, whoever it is, will disrupt the plan for the World Cup?" Wilkes asked brusquely.
There was a pause before his father responded.
"I am uncertain." Lucius admitted, and Draco could hear the chagrin, "but whoever it is seems to be working against us rather than with us."
"Bloody idiot!" Wilkes snarled. "I'd like to get my hands on them and hex them into next week! Do you know how close I am to securing a détente with Black? Selwyn too?"
"I shouldn't worry about that, Norman." Lucius soothed him. "I have already hinted to Black that it wasn't any of us and I will assure him again when we go to the match tomorrow."
"He's still intending to go to the World Cup?" Nott asked, surprise colouring his tone.
Lucius laughed, low and dark. "Of course. You didn't think a Gryffindor would be deterred by a death threat?"
"He sent the boy home last night." Nott pointed out.
"He could hardly keep him there knowing whoever had sent the death threat had gained entry and was likely in the same room as Potter." Wilkes growled. "But he has balls of brass going to the match in the face of two threats."
"I'm sure he will arrange for some additional security." Lucius said.
A silence fell and Draco's heart raced as he assimilated the information.
"Do you think it's Him?" Wilkes asked suddenly. "Or Pettigrew?"
"The Dark Lord had no serving house elves and neither did Pettigrew." Lucius replied immediately. "I'm not certain these threats originate with the Dark Lord."
"Then who?"
"Another party, obviously." Nott surmised. "Either another follower of the Dark Lord's we did not know or someone else who has a grudge against Potter."
"The latter is more likely surely?" Wilkes asked.
Lucius cleared his throat. "Pettigrew. Need we say more?"
"So, the Dark Lord had Pettigrew as a secret spy! That doesn't mean he had a dozen of them!" Wilkes retorted.
"There were also many associates of his followers that were kept secret but known to the Dark Lord," Nott countered, "the Carrows had that vampire they kept secret until they went off to live with him after the war. The LeStranges had Crouch Junior living with Rab apparently…and those are the ones I know about now. I suspect Selwyn has someone who was his contact in the werewolf community during those years and Mulciber probably had someone tucked away; he was rarely at home in the final days of the last War."
"You have a point." Lucius said. "Perhaps we should turn our attention to those in Azkaban. There may be connections we have missed. Many of those incarcerated had house elves which may have remained loyal to a secret lover or retainer."
"It's an avenue of investigation." Nott agreed. "You'll take it to Black?"
"Indeed." Lucius said.
Wilkes snorted. "Well, if we're done talking about that, we should discuss the bloody Muggle Affairs Committee, Lucius…"
Draco slumped back in his chair, thinking hard. Someone other than his father's old crowd was sending the death threats? The old followers of the Dark Lord weren't involved? And whoever it was owned a house elf? His head felt stuffed with information.
Silently, he made his way from the balcony and hurried back into the Manor. He wandered down the main stairs and froze at the sight of his mother in the hallway, evidently waiting on him.
"Mother." Draco said cautiously. His mother had always been kind to him, loving in his childhood before he had turned away from her hugs and comfort, but he knew she didn't like to be crossed.
"Tell me, Draco," his mother said softly, "where is your guest?" She was already sketching a privacy bubble around them and Draco blanched as he realised his error.
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