"Always remember: others may hate you, but those who hate you don't win unless you hate them, and then you destroy yourself." - Lucius Malfoy

(Acting) Headmistress McGonagall looked down at the young Malfoy boy sitting opposite her desk. He'd gawked at the various devices scattered around the room, which was only natural. She'd done the same when she'd first been in the office as a student, and during her interview. It had taken years to get used to their strange presence. McGonagall spent an hour every day during the summer investigating them, to no avail. Every item had an obvious purpose or was totally inscrutable. From the dial with eight hands, to a small bulb that changed colors imperceptibly slowly and smelled of oranges, to weirdly shaped thing that vrooped once every few weeks, Minerva had no idea what they did. Worse, she'd begun to suspect that her very desk was more in- than -scrutable. She'd appreciated the sherry that had turned up in the lower left drawer the second night of school, but it certainly hadn't been there that morning.

Draco Malfoy had gawked.

But unlike other children summoned to the office - she still thought of it as Dumbledore's office - Draco Malfoy didn't glance around worriedly. He didn't tremble, or sweat, or reveal any nervousness. She'd left him sitting there because that's what you did to children summoned to the office, checking in a mirror to make sure you looked every inch the Headmistress. But when she'd swept into the room and sat down Draco wasn't examining the room to avoid her piercing stare - he'd already made eye contact, held it for a beat, then released it.

Draco's examination expressed polite interest in his surroundings, and no fixation. As soon as she spoke, Draco focused on her again.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, "I was going to assure you that you were not in trouble, but seeing as how you need no such assurance I will simply ask what exactly happened last night."

"A group of older students thought it would be fun to kidnap me from my room. They stunned Gregory, dragged me out, paralyzed me, and left me down in the dungeons for the night, after dousing me with water and lowering the temperature." Draco's voice held no bitterness, she noted. The reports described Draco calmly composing himself before returning to the Commons and and disappearing with Michael MacNair.

"And how, pray tell, did they get past Mr. Potter as well." It wasn't really relevant, but Minerva had been dying to know. Harry dealt with bullies handily enough last year, she found it amazing that they could have gotten past him so handily.

"Oh, he slept through the whole thing." Draco's voice took on a slightly nasal tone, just for a word or two, and then returned to normal. But he did smirk, some private joke. "Harry can sleep through anything."

"And as to what happened this morning?"

"For which I am assuredly not in trouble," Draco said, making it sound like a statement instead of a question. "I decided that I would have some words with Michael MacNair. I suspect he knows the ringleader, if it isn't actually him. Obviously it had to be a private conversation, to be effective. He couldn't very well tell me the culprit in public. But he chose not to reveal that information."

The annoying thing, Minerva thought, was that it could all be true. If only Draco had flown off into a rage and attacked someone she would have understood. But he seemed so calm and had enough ready answers that she felt her anger slowly rising. She tried to keep it from her voice.

"And did you threaten Mr. MacNair?"

"I let him know that I considered him culpable, and that he should use his considerable influence to handle the situation. Did he say that I threatened him?" Draco sounded mildly intrigued by the thought, and Minerva had to clamp down to keep her anger in check.

"Mr. Malfoy. I rather like you, despite your Father. As Deputy Headmistress I would have never dared say that. But as Acting Headmistress... I find I shouldn't behave the same way." She paused and tried to gather her words, arrange them correctly. "Right now the family resemblance is striking. But you don't remind me of the first or second year Lucius Malfoy, a charming lad like yourself. Now you look like a smaller version of the cold, calculating seventh year that I despaired of redeeming."

Draco's voice took on a hint of sadness. "Last May I knew that I would be Lord Malfoy some day, but that was the distant future, too far away to imagine. It didn't affect my thinking much. Having it suddenly thrust upon me, at such cost...I suppose it has," Draco's voice trailed off.

"Still, I think you should hold onto our childhood for as long as you can. If there is anything I can do to help." She saw Draco's eyes flash, but he just shook his head. She sighed. "Well then, about your cane."

"Yes, Headmistress?"

"There is some concern that a student as young as yourself should not have such a powerful device."

"Openly, you mean." A small twitch of disapproval escaped before she clamped down on her reaction. Draco continued, "Hermione has the good sense to leave her Phoenix in her dorm. That sort of thing. But I haven't taken my Sigil to classes."

"Nevertheless, Mr. Malfoy, You must send it home."

Draco considered for several seconds. "That cane ... what I did, provides everyone a convenient excuse to leave me alone. They can't back down from someone so young. Just like the bullies couldn't back down from S.P.H.E.W. last year. They have to escalate against me, but against something scary and unknown? Against the symbol of my house? They can all quietly agree to let the matter drop and give up the fight without losing face. Without relying on your office or Harry Potter or anyone else."

"Professor Slughorn is certainly capable of controlling his house," she said with more conviction than she felt, and resolved to have a long discussion with Horace about what had been going on in Slytherin.

"Not like Professor Snape," said Draco. "He needs more time, and I need time."

McGonagall considered this. "If all you need is a symbol, I don't see a problem with that." She opened up a drawer and started pulling out a surprising array of objects, shoving others aside, and them mumbling to herself before finally revealing what looked like a beater's club, but slightly longer and flatter. The Headmistress took out her wand and waved it over the club, and it shifted in form to the size of Draco's cane. A few more swipes of the wand and the two objects appeared identical, although the Headmistress could feel the difference, the power in the original cane.

"I will keep your cane here for the time being, or you can have it sent home. This," she said, handing him the Transfigured club, "should work admirably as your replacement. I advise against trying to transfigure anything for so long, Mr. Malfoy. I doubt someone so young could handle the strain, and this club has certain enchantments that will allow me to maintain it at a distance until Christmas break."

Draco took the cane, judging it's heft. He nodded, sadly, while the Headmistress continued. "If you need to beat someone over the head with it in the heat of the moment I will take into consideration the fact that I removed a more subtle option. I should give you detention, you realize, for your comments," she sighed, "and I most certainly would except for the fact that it would encourage your tormentors. You may go."

Draco got up to take his leave when she added, "I do want you to know that I regret what I said about your Father at Hermione's trial. I meant it, but it was in a moment of extreme stress and I certainly did not consider that it might reach your ears. I wish you to be the delightful child I remember instead of the man he became. If not forever then for as long as possible. You may go."

Draco, who had frozen during her speech, made a small bow. "I understand. Thank you, Headmistress," he said, turning to leave.

"Acting Headmistress, Mr. Malfoy," she automatically corrected.

"Acting Mr. Malfoy, Headmistress," he replied sadly as he walked out the door.

Author's Note - Lucius Malfoy's quote was also said by former U.S. president and honorary Slytherin Richard Nixon.