18 Eavesdropping

The whole summer in France was spent either training or visiting different sights. Draco's parents couldn't stay in a foreign country for the whole summer, though they did visit the grandfather and grandchild duo quite often.

Draco felt a bit lonely, not being able to accompany his friends to various birthday parties and other events, however they did exchange letters frequently. The blond boy actually felt a bit weird missing eight-year-old children, when his actual age was over thirty. He could only conclude that he got used to being a child, to the point where he didn't even find children his age to be too annoying.

Abraxas' training was very intense and, in a month since its beginning, Draco could already cast the three spells with some measure of success. It was hard, learning how to direct the magic and let it concentrate on a specific point or do a very specific action - such as unlocking the doors.

However, Draco was quite satisfied with his own progress. After all, what kind of wizard would he be if he couldn't even cast any spells? Of course, he wasn't very proficient with them yet. 'Lumos' came easier than the others and 'Alohomora', the Unlocking charm, was quite hard - there were too many types of locks out there and the more complicated they were, the less likely that the charm would succeed. But Draco was resolved to master casting it without a wand - the possibilities alone were worth it! If he wanted to, even a robbery of a bank wouldn't be a dream!

Draco's physical training was a lot more straightforward, though he couldn't say it was any easier. After a month of jogging, doing various exercises and training with different equipment, Abraxas started to teach him how to wield a sword.

As his grandfather put it, the objective of fighting with a sword is to cut down the opponent. It isn't to be showy or to distract the enemy with swings - the moves have to be unpredictable, confident and well-timed. The victory comes to those, who are calm, cautious (though never timid!) and aren't afraid to use deception. After all, actual fights and duels are not at all fair.

A good duelist has to make sure that he is in a superior position and that there are winning factors present - such as standing with the sun behind, so that the glare of it distracts the opponent, or chasing the enemy in such a way that they trip over inanimate objects behind them.

In his last life, as a teenager, Draco enjoyed playing soccer and practiced modern martial arts, primarily judo. So he was quite good at grappling techniques, knew how to break a fall or how to throw someone. However, he hadn't practiced in a long time and, considering that he hadn't tried any of the aforementioned techniques in this life, the blond boy wasn't sure how much he could remember or be able to execute in reality. He also wasn't sure whether knowing martial arts would somehow help him with sword training, after all swords have a longer reach.

The actual sword training started with being taught how to make cuts, how to go from one position to the next and how to react to the opponent's changes of position. Draco clearly felt the difference of skill between himself and Abraxas when they practiced actual fights. The boy knew that it would take a lot of time for him to become proficient and automatically consider all the factors (opponent's unconscious signals, where the dirt was softer, seeing the surroundings in peripheral vision, etc.) while fighting.

Even though he could tell some of what his opponent intended to do in the next moment from practicing judo before, it wasn't completely the same. Right now, at the beginning of the training, his grandfather could play with him and lead him around the field just as easily as a dog on a leash.

---

When the summer approached the end and Draco was getting ready to leave France, one day he heard an interesting conversation between his father and grandfather as he was passing the study. He quietly pressed himself against the door and curiously listened. A smacking sound of paper hitting a table was the first thing he heard. Then came the actual words:

"You shouldn't have helped Gibbon get that position in the Ministry. He is well-known to have been associated with the Death Eaters during the war," Abraxas' enraged voice faintly carried through the closed doors. "Now the Daily Prophet is reporting that there will soon be another war because a lot of 'Dark Wizards' are working in the Ministry and the Minister himself is also in their pocket."

"You know as well as I do, father, that they report whatever gibberish they want. It doesn't matter whether I am involved or not," Lucius could also be heard furiously protesting. There was a sudden noise of a chair being pushed roughly. Draco assumed that his father stood up and started pacing back and forth, because he could hear shoes rhythmically hitting the floor without any sign of stopping.

Another creaking sound was made, which meant that Abraxas also stood up. His voice came through once again, now sounding irritated:

"It would actually help if you wouldn't associate yourself with those low-lives. I understand Yaxley and Avery - they are part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight - but you should put more effort into making acquaintances in other circles too. Being too involved with politics is also detrimental, when you don't actually belong to the Ministry. Look at the other families - they only appear in the Ministry building during the season, yet you are there almost every day, like it's your job! Why don't you just go and work there if you like it so much?"

"The others belonged to the opposite side and even if some of them aren't mudbloods, they are filthy blood-traitors! I won't associate with them! You may like to play nice with everyone, however I am at least loyal to our cause!" Lucius' voice was getting louder with each sentence.

"There is no cause! The Dark Lord perished and personally, I am quite happy with this outcome. You should think of your family first instead of gallivanting with your little friends, whose only use is to tarnish your reputation! If you are so loyal to this 'cause', maybe you should have just joined Hufflepuff, at least then I would have been prepared for this nonsense you are spouting!" Abraxas' tone matched his son's. Draco didn't even have to stand with his ear pressed to the door, to clearly hear them arguing.

"I know that the Dark Lord is dead, however, his followers aren't! We don't have to, once again, stage a war but we can influence the Ministry to change the laws to our advantage!" it seemed that Lucius couldn't give up his point and completely refused to back down.

"Do whatever you want, Lucius, just don't come to me complaining when it all crashes down," the older wizard said with finality, his tone full of resignation. "I can only expect that your son won't be so foolish in the future - from what I have seen, he at least carries some common sense."

Draco quickly leaned back and took a few steps backwards. The doors of the study opened and both men came out wearing displeased expressions on their faces and not even trying to hide them.

Draco acted like he was just passing by.

"I heard some shouting, everything alright?" he casually asked.

"Fine," his father gave a short replied, which said that everything wasn't actually 'fine', and with large strides walked down the corridor, quickly disappearing behind the corner.

Abraxas observed his son's back tiredly. When Lucius could no longer be seen, he turned his attention to Draco.

"Heard our shouting, did you?" he asked wryly. "It's an old argument resurfacing again, don't pay any attention to it. When you grow up, I am sure that you will also infuriate your father in some ways - can't say I am not eagerly waiting for that day..."

With those words Abraxas turned to go, however, Draco's question stopped him.

"Grandfather, you dislike the Dark Lord?"

There was a moment of silence.

Abraxas slowly turned back and looked into his grandson's eyes. "Yes, I do dislike the Dark Lord quite a lot. At first I supported him because his goals seemed noble and reasonable, Dumbledore's side was also gaining too much swing in Wizengamot. Many of my old friends were also of the same opinion. However, when Voldemort started his purging war, which unnecessarily wasted a lot of magical blood and only worsened his supporters' position, I changed my mind. Even Grindelwald's war didn't bring so many losses in whole of Europe, as did Voldemort's war here, in Britain. If he actually won, only Merlin himself knows what would have happened - not just to his enemies, but also to his 'friends'."

After those words Abraxas once again turned around and went down the hallway.

This time Draco didn't stop him.