TtH • Story • Draco Malfoy and the Summer from Hell

Categories	Author	Rating	Chapters	Words	Recs	Reviews	Hits	Published	Updated	Complete
Harry Potter > General > Mystery	Mirielle	FR15	9	18,826	4	68	33,233	16 May 05	5 Jun 08	No

Prologue

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K Rowling and Buffy and Co. are the property of Joss Whedon.
Summary: A response to challenge 834 'Aunt Buffy', this story takes place a year after the end of Sunnydale and during the summer before Draco‘s sixth year.
Rated: for swearing and Draco’s generally vile personality.
Reviews: are much appreciated and welcome, especially if constructive in nature, as objective readers tend to catch mistakes I don't.

*Please note that this story has been edited and resubmitted in anticipation of continuation. I’ll try not to leave another two years in between chapter updates.*

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Draco Malfoy and the Summer from Hell

Prologue

Somewhere in a comfortable Ministry office in England, two men were engaged in a shouting match. The subject of their argument - a boy approximately sixteen years of age - was sitting quietly and morosely in a comfortable chair that matched the office’s décor, intent on blocking out his surroundings. He was feeling numb, both physically and mentally, and had there been less in the way of an audience he would no doubt have curled up and whimpered.

Not cried though, oh no. The first thing he had ever learned was that amongst a great many other things, a Malfoy did not cry. It was simply not done. Perhaps, he had mused one summer afternoon after his father had lectured him on the benefits of not showing emotions, the Malfoy clan ought to commission a spell to remove their tear ducts. It would be so much simpler really, and it wasn’t as if the family couldn’t afford it.

Pulled from his reverie, Draco Malfoy was forced to return to reality, a place he would under the circumstances rather have avoided for as long as possible.

“…for the last time, Minister, you cannot do this!”

It was odd, thought Draco, to see his godfather in such an unholy fury. As Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Snape rarely displayed emotions besides contempt and/or cold amusement at the misfortune of others (particularly Gryffindors, though sobbing Hufflepuffs were also known to afford him some amusement) and thus appeared almost alien in his righteous anger. Blotches of colour had appeared on his high cheekbones and he seemed moments from wrapping his bony fingers around the throat of the podgy Cornelius Fudge. Said Minister of Magic was engaged in cowering behind the figure of his Assistant Junior Something-Or-Other, Percy Weasley, only to now and again emerge from behind the afore mentioned underling’s shoulders to hurl invectives and spray the general assembly with fine flecks of spit. One could accurately surmise that the Minister was enraged.

“…and if you think that a former Death Eater of all things will have ANY say in this matter, you have another thing coming!” he ended his current stream of abuse, having momentarily run out of steam.

Had he more energy, Draco would have graced the portly Minister with one of his trademark sneers; under the circumstances however, the best he could manage was a flinch.

This did not go unnoticed by the fifth and final occupant of the chamber. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the very school Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy attended in positions of teacher and student, had spent the not insignificant duration of this discussion alternately observing the boy at the centre of argument and worrying quietly to himself. The patented twinkle had left his eyes and a cup and saucer of fine china were shaking lightly in his grasp. This was a bad business alright, and there were no doubts about it, Cornelius Fudge had decided to make a statement and Draco Malfoy was to be its victim.

“…but he won’t have a way to defend himself! What if that harridan of an aunt of his takes it upon herself to look for him or, Merlin forbid, the Dark Lord himself remembers his existence? What then?” screamed Snape, almost beside himself with rage and worry. “This is a death sentence and we both know it! The sins of the father, Minister, are not the sins of the son.”

“That is enough Severus,” added Dumbledore, before Fudge had a chance to once more add his knut’s worth. “While I quite agree with your sentiments, the Minister’s mind is clearly made up and nothing we can say will change that.

Here Cornelius Fudge took the chance to smirk at Snape in a most unbecoming manner from behind his human shield, and would indeed have gloated verbally had Dumbledore not continued, “However, Cornelius, I do have one or two concerns to voice.”

Severus Snape snorted and threw himself into a chair next to that of his godson, who was sitting ramrod straight and staring off into the distance, apparently not hearing a word said around him.

“While I acknowledge that Mrs. Malfoy’s last wishes ought to be honoured, Minister, I feel that your personal feelings on the subject are clouding your judgement. I agree wholeheartedly that Bellatrix Lestrange should under no circumstances be given custody of any child, whether it be Mr. Malfoy or any other. I even understand your misgivings about handing him over to his godfather, unsubstantiated as they are. But to even contemplate foisting him off onto the care of these Muggles, of whom we know nothing other than that they were at one point acquainted with a Mr. William Black, that Minister I truly do not understand.”

“Listen here, Dumbledore,” Cornelius Fudge had taken the opportunity of Snape’s apparent surrender to seek refuge behind his desk, “Narcissa Malfoy’s Last Will and Testament states quite clearly that in the case of anything happening to both her and her husband, care of her son should fall to a Mr. William Black. Several Ministry employees under the supervision of Mr. Weasley here preformed a location spell to ascertain the current whereabouts of said Mr. Black and it was established that he is no longer among the living. Sad as that may be, they did manage to find out that he left behind instructions which asked that all his possessions be turned over to a Miss Buffy Summers, and these now include Mr. Draco Malfoy. Even if I had misgivings about turning him over to these Muggles - which I do not,” here he paused momentarily to smile for the benefit of Professor Snape, “I would still have qualms about contesting a perfectly valid legal document such as this. Therefore it is my decision that Mr. Malfoy will go to live with these people until such time as he is of age and able to make decisions for his own self. As I understand it, he will be seventeen in about a year’s time. To be honest with you Albus, I don’t see what the problem here is and really, if Narcissa hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of her son living with these Muggles, she shouldn’t have killed herself; it’s as simple as that.” Here the Minister leaned back in his chair, feeling for all the world like a king in his castle.

This pronouncement was met with silence by all parties. Dumbledore looked troubled, Snape glowered, and even Percy Weasley seemed momentarily shocked by the callousness exhibited by his superior, though it could have simply been a case of mild indigestion.. Draco, under the circumstances, took the announcement rather well. Paling considerably at the Minister's last sentence, he dwelt once more on just how much he hated Fudge and turning his head quite noisily threw up.