The Letter that was not given II

Draco P.O.V.

"50k pounds to Galleons. 7500 Galleons and 8500 Sickles in a mokeskin. The rest in my vault. No. 1048. Tom Stark."

I placed down 10 stacks of a hundred £50 bills on the table that was far too high for my liking. The Gringotts Goblin grunted, baring his teeth for a moment in displeasure. The displeasure is shared vile disgusting creature. The displeasure is shared.

"Signature"

A small sheet of paper that was pinched by the ends of the Goblin's unpolished and hideous fingernails was draped over the edge of the table. I nicked my thumb and pinched the paper before letting it go to be dragged back into view of the vile character.

I heard some shuffling of papers, clacking of wooden drawers, and scribbling of quills while waiting for his crooked hand to appear over the table and hand me my money so I can get out of here.

The Goblin grunted once more before the bag finally appeared within my field of vision. I clasped the bag careful not to touch the creature's hand, before turning on my heel and dashing out of there.

Finally.

I stashed the pouch into an inside pocket of my coat. Stepping out of Gringotts, I held my hand up over my eyes, shielding me from the glare of the morning sun. How strange. Since when did England have this much sun?

I went over the list of necessities I needed to quickly purchase before going to visit my father. 'This is going to be a long day' I thought as I ambled through the familiar streets.

.

.

.

*Timeskip to Malfoy Manor*

Third-person P.O.V.

Lucius paces in his room, staring at the small trunk atop the desk of what was once his wife's vanity mirror.

It was nearing his son's birthday, and as such, he needed a birthday present. With the limited time and power he had, he was only able to purchase a simple limited edition beginner's potions kit with 'Tom' written on a tag attached with a single golden string. He hopes that Tom wouldn't be too disappointed.

Apart from that, Laying innocently on the trunk was an ivory white letter with a name written in golden calligraphy.

His father, Abraxas, has been able to convince Madame Maxime to admit one 'Draco Lefrançois', regardless of the name currently being absent on the family register with a promise that this would be taken care of soon enough. 'Narcissa has always spoken about how she would want to name him Draco if he were a boy.' Lucius thought as he went over his plans in his head.

The Lefrançois were Abraxas's mother's maternal family, and they have shown that they were more than willing to adopt Tom as their own until the Dark Lord had been caught. They have simply required a few signed cooperations with the Malfoys as compensation. The Malfoys and the Lefrançois both held power and prestige in France, thus it would be difficult for the dark lord to reach them there. He could only hope that Tom would willingly follow him there without much opposition.

Afterall, though his power doesn't reach as far as it did 12 years ago, Lucius was confident that through him the Lefrançois would be able to provide for Tom more than any muggle could. And maybe, on the occasion where it is safe, Lucius may be able to visit him swiftly and unnoticeably enough that it would seem as though he was never there. He was also certain that Tom would pick wizards over muggles any day since to him the opposition was simply ludicrous.

Meanwhile, just outside the Manor, Draco had gotten off the wizarding bus and walked through the gates that were enchanted to let in no one but those with Malfoy blood as well as their invited guests. Draco looked up at the manor with melancholy in his eyes. With a smile tugging on his lips, he quickened his pace through the long hedge path that leads straight to his destination.

Feeling a heavier weight on his shoulder, he gave a tug on his coat and noticed something hit the back of his shin. Looking down, he sees that a rat was biting on the tail of his coat for dear life as though it didn't want to let go of its prey.

Draco shuddered, and he immediately shook it off with a yelp. The rat had been flung off of his coat and dashed into the hedge wall on his right.

"Weltch! Ah no, Weltch's dead. Bobby!"

With a pop in the air in front of him, a wrinkly elf with droopy ears and large green eyes appeared.

"Yes master, Dobby heard Sir's calling. What does mister Tom need of Dobby to do sirs?"

'Ugh. Again with that appalling grammar.' Draco transiently thought, before barking out his order.

"Clean the garden of vermin. I don't want to see a single rat or any other pest the next time I step on these grounds."

"Yes mister Tom sirs. Dobby will do as sir orders." The elf bowed with a shake in his step and left with a pop, just as quickly as he appeared.

Draco shook his head and muttered while complaining to himself that the nutty elf keeps forgetting to call him master despite Father telling the elf to refer to him as such. But he quickly let's go of the thought for more anticipated ones about the day ahead that he will spend with his father.