How the Mighty Have Fallen

Chapter 1

"Sherbet Lemon," Professor Snape said to the large gargoyles guarding the entryway to Professor Dumbledore's office. They slip apart soundlessly, revealing the spiral staircase leading to the Headmaster's study. Draco Malfoy looked back at his head of house, who inclined his stoic face toward the staircase, urging him forward.

Draco ascended the steps, Snape following.

"Welcome, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "Severus, Draco, please have a seat," he gestured toward the two chintz chairs on the other side of his desk, and both men sat.

"Mr. Malfoy, I suppose you're wondering why I've asked you and Professor Snape to come speak with me this evening." He paused, glancing at Draco's expressionless face. Realizing the sullen seventh year had no intention of responding, the Headmaster continued.

"I've just received an owl from your father." Draco stiffened, almost imperceptivity. "He told me that your family has had some recent disagreements. Would you care to tell me about them?"

Draco shook his head.

"Very well. Though Lucius did not specify the nature of your dispute, I have a vague idea." He grazed his long fingers over his extensive beard, as if trying to determine the best way to continue. He looked at the boy with pity - though clearly unresponsive, Draco had potential. Yes, he, Severus and Minerva had all agreed about that. It was unfortunate he lacked the proper family support to develop that potential.

"I'm afraid the owl contained bad news, Mr. Malfoy. Your father wrote that you and he have parted ways. He has requested that I return his payment of your Hogwarts tuition."

Chapter 2

Draco stared at the elderly headmaster. He knew his father had been angry the previous evening as Draco boarded the Hogwarts Express to begin his seventh year, but he would not have guessed he would have done something so drastic.

"So he's disowned me." It wasn't a question. Draco understood now; refusing his father's dreams for him had made him a disgrace to the Malfoy name.

Dumbledore nodded, and Draco stood to leave.

"I'll go gather my things."

Dumbledore stood - quite rapidly, especially for a man of his age - and, reaching across his desk, placed a firm hand on Draco's shoulder:

"Surely you don't believe that we would send you away after six years of study?" Draco stared at the man incredulously.

"No, no, my dear boy, you will remain here at Hogwarts, if you so desire. However, the financial aspects will remain a concern. I have contacted the Ministry to discuss the situation -" Draco closed his eyes in humiliation. Everyone would know of his poverty. "and, against my advice, they refuse to allow you to attend without charge."

Anger and humiliation flashed in Draco's face. He could never face his Slytherin housemates now: he'd refused to get the Mark, and now he was poor.

And no matter what the old coot said, Draco couldn't see how he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts. Not trusting his voice to conceal his fury, Draco kept silent.

Snape spoke up. "Perhaps, Headmaster, you should tell Mr. Malfoy your plans for him."

Dumbledore laughed mirthlessly. "Yes, yes, of course. Mr. Malfoy, you will remain at Hogwarts this year, if you so choose. I have arranged for you to enroll in a work study program - you will work eight hours a week helping Madame Hooch with the Quidditch supplies, around your own Quidditch practices, of course."