Title: Skepticism in Grey

Synopsis: What if Narcissa disappeared at the end of Draco's fifth year? With Lucius in Azkaban, who is the nearest family relative for Draco to stay with for the summer?

Spoilers: Books 1-5 respectively

Pairing: Hint of a future D/G, but mostly a story about a boy finding his TRUE family. Not exactly as corny as it sounds, but this fic could be aired on Lifetime, so be warned XD

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It appeared that Draco Malfoy would remain a slug forever.

Not that he minded, in his current slug form. This was the third time in his life he had been transfigured into an animal against his will-at least this time the creature was slightly more sinister than a rabbit or a bouncing ferret. A slow thinking creature, this slug, but impervious to the sharp kicks the occasional students was delivering to his body. Physically impervious, at any rate-Draco was careful to memorize exactly who was maiming his body while he was helpless. His father… when he got out of Azkaban… was going to make these students pay.

Will he? Draco wondered as a giant shadow loomed over him. He swiveled his left eye stalk up to behold the monstrous form of Edith Goyle. Unlike the measly kicks the soft students had delivered to his thick, slimy hide, Edith Goyle's blotchy hand smacking his eye stalk stung like a hard slap on the rump, or a painful kick to the solar plexus.

"Stupid boy!" The woman thundered, the luggage rack shaking worse than a 8.0 earthquake.

Quiet woman or the screws holding this second hand rack will shake out! Draco slowly yelled, but the only audible sound was a glurg-gulp of three slimy bubbles escaping his mouth. Or at least the orifice that Draco assumed was his mouth.

For a half second, Draco was sure the giant of a woman had heard him, for the room was eerily quiet. Either that, or she must have realized there were three slugs in here, and only one of them was her precious Goyle.

But the hot, greasy hand on his back sent all sense of reason out of the slimy lump of flesh Draco had become. No! Get your hands off me you oaf of a woman! I do not appreciate being fondled by an ugly fat old woman! When my father hears of this…!

The greasy hand moved down his back, sending chills of revulsion slowly up and down his slimy form.

Oh Merlin, I promise I'll never have another naughty thought about the Gryffindor Quidditch girls if you just get this woman off me!

Then, the pudgy fingers dug into his skin and jerked him over onto his belly. Draco let out a terrified squeal, praying someone would hear him.

I'm too rich to be violated like this! Someone help me!

The hand did not begin to caress his slimy body, but was instead sifting through his robes. Ok, maybe 'rich' was not the right word-Draco began, but trailed off when the hand left his body. Draco managed to twist his right eye stalk far enough over to see Goyle's mother checking the robes of the slug to his right.

Ah, smarter than she appears to be. No wonder my mother invites her for Bridge once a month. Draco wondered where his own mother was-surely she would enter the train at any moment, furious that her son had been hexed by mere students again. He winced, knowing she would launch into a heavily insult ladened harangue, insulting him from his imperfect toes on up to his 'greasy' hair and obvious lack of wit.

But at least she was family, Draco thought to himself as he watched Edith Goyle slowly reverse the process that had turned her giant oaf of a son into a giant slug of a boy. He felt rather than heard footsteps at the entrance, but was unable to crane his left eye stock back to see his mother as it was being crushed under the weight of his slug-head.

He braced himself for the yelling that was sure to come, and yet never did. He saw Edith motion towards the right, but no hands grasped his form. No magic reversed his transfigured self back to its glorious former shape. No mother welcomed her son home.

Well, my mother was late for the first time in her life. Draco reasoned, trying not to let the fact that his 'goons' were being saved while he, the criminal mastermind, was stuck in slug form hanging precariously on a swaying luggage rack. Unfair, but maybe the two lovely ladies will reset me back and I can leave in dignity…

"No mum, we's only done it 'cause Malfoy. He say we's gonna do it, and we'd gonna do it like you's told us's to's." He caught the grating words that Crabbe wheezed out. Crabbe was the one who butchered grammar with extra s's, so his speaking style was unmistakable against the silence of the room.

Oh, get over yourselves! You can tell your mummy dearest the truth-after you get me out of here! You daft blob of fat! I can't even call you my goon any more! Draco yelled, twisting his right eye stock to see the cold glare Edith Goyle sent her way. He watched, absolutely shocked, as Goyle's mother turned around and lead her son away without a word.

Well, I don't need Goyle or Crabbe's mums to take pity on me. My mother will be here any minute! She will! He mentally yelled as he felt Crabbe and his mother stomp out of the compartment as well.

The train fell silent, and Draco began to worry. Would he be stuck a slug forever? What would happen if his mother was unable to get to the train station? Would the train return to Hogwarts, and he be stuck on it to slowly starve to death?

Maybe I can try and eat my own slime. He thought in total disgust but unable to fathom what to do in this situation. If only that stupid group of Auror misfits had minded their own business and let me trounce that loser Potter, this would never have happened. I would be at home in the Manor lounging about under the enchanted umbrellas, careful to keep the glare from burning my skin a common brown…

There was a clang at the doorway, followed by a light set of footsteps. Ah, there she is. I knew she would come for me, of course. No hysteria on my part. He thought, settling his mass as he attempted a sneer on his face.

Only, his present slime form lacked any real muscle control, and the only movement that happened was a large slimy bubble to be released from the dark cavern of his mouth.

Yes, mum, this slime creature is your son-now transfigure me back to a human form! Draco commanded, but the footsteps had ceased.

Incensed that his mother would be staring at him but not speaking, Draco craned his eye stalk around to see a short woman staring at him in shock.

I doubt anyone would be shocked to see a slug if they had that atrocious pink color of hair. Although, the color does match that Weird Sister's shirt, but there is no saving those jeans. Muggle wear, and the below the poverty line variety I'd guess. Wonder what SHE'S doing here.

"Oh, you poor dear." The woman let out, her eyes darkening from a pale gray to a warm brown.

Wait… the only metamorphmagus I know is…

Oh great, his second cousin was here to save him. As if matters could only get any worse-his mother had spoken at length about the clumsy Auror girl, bemoaning the fact that the girl's mother, Andromeda, had abandoned their family to marry a-

"Oh, you are a Slytherin. I guess you deserved the blast then… but why hasn't any one picked you up?" The girl leaned closer to stare at him, examining him for some trace of an identity.

Of course I'm a Slytherin, you dolt. Draco blasted in his mind, wishing he could really glare at his cousin. Why did YOU have to be here? My mother will yell at you when she comes here! Yell at you!! And you won't like it!

"Well, I guess I'll just have to reverse whatever hex was placed on you and help you find your parents. Although, you can't be too smart of a student, because you forgot the first rule in dueling-"

Cheat?

"-duck." With that, the odd woman Draco had the displeasure to call family, but only by blood, fumbled with her wand and began the slow task of revealing himself in human form.

When Draco could actually hear the sharp inhalation of shock that announced that his cousin had recognized him, Draco had decided that he was enough of himself to finish the job without her mettlesome and mediocre skills.

He struggled to get out of the luggage rack, but too much of the slug remained inside him. He opened his mouth to yell at the girl, but only bubbles-slightly less slimy then before-fell out.

"Well, Draco, it seems like your nastiness has gotten you transfigured into another animal. How many has it been? Three now?"

Draco only simmered in his rage. I bet she's keeping me from being able to speak to her on purpose. Stupid woman.

"I thought as much. Can't say the slug was an improvement, but at least you got some color in your face. Anything was better than that zombie white shade you and Aunt Narcissa seem to prefer."

Don't you dare insult my mother you wretched waste of magic. Draco cursed, wriggling his body forward to try and lung at her for speaking as such. Dimly he remembered that a similar set of factors had resulted in him being turned into a cuddly white rabbit all those years before, but the only thing Draco could think about was destroying the woman who had insulted him… and his mother of course.

"Ah, the glare of death-I see that you haven't improved it in all those years. Have you found any girls your age who find it dashing?" The insufferable woman laughed, a pleasant sound without any distaste or false sincerity in it.

Just get me out of this form so I can go find my mother with some dignity. Draco hissed, wishing he had the power of speech so he could blast the woman out of his way.

But she was tricky, that girl, and apparently WAS holding off on giving him back his powers of speech. He felt his legs split into two limbs and had finally had enough of this hanging in a rack-he scooted hard forward, his hands trying to find purchase in the slime covered metal. His swift motion sent the cheap luggage rack swinging, and another shriek escaped from his throat.

"A little impatient, Draco?" she said with a laugh, and leaned forward to hold out a hand.

He considered it for a moment, but decided that his revenge against her could wait-the swinging motion of the rack was making him nauseous. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, and suddenly Draco found himself standing on two shaky feet, his clothes covered in slime.

"Thank you." He managed to grit out, and was surprised that the words had escaped his mouth with only a minor release of bubbling.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked around the room. "Where's your mum, Draco? It isn't like her to be late…"

Unable to shout out an obscene word and dash off because SHE was still blocking his path, Draco could only return her shrug. "I have no idea." He said stiffly, reaching down to his knee to swipe off a patch of slime from his dark robes.

His cousin rolled her eyes and reached out to grab his arm, but he shielded away from her. "I'm not going to bite you Draco." She said in exasperation and grabbed his arm anyway, pulling him from the luggage room. "Go grab your trunk and we'll find your mum, alright?"

"But she-"

"Hates me?" She supplied with a laugh, shaking her hand and letting go of his arm. She looked down at her hand and winced at the slime that had transferred to her hand, but wiped the goo onto her patched jeans and shrugged again. "Well, we're family-we all hate each other, except for when there's Wills to be made and Eulogies to be read."

Draco paused, considering her words. It was true…

"What's the matter? Why did you stop?" She asked, staring at him in concern.

Draco couldn't remember the last time someone had stared at him in concern… at least concern for HIM. Umbridge had stared at him in concern for HERSELF a few times, but never for him, and his mother AND father had never in all his life stared at him in concern for anything. "Uh, my trunk is in that compartment." He managed to say, reaching out to open the door.

"Whatever you say kid." She said, scratching her spiked hair. She stared at him for another second then scrunched her face in a funny sort of way, and her hair slowly changed back to its natural silvery blonde color.

"I am not a kid." Draco said indignantly, but reached in and grabbed his trunk without further questioning. He hadn't placed it in a luggage compartment because they had been full by the time he had reached the train-he had been planning his attack on Potter for a week now, and was incensed that it had failed.

He caught her rolling her eyes, and saw them as they changed back to a gray color he assumed was their original shade. Many people had said that Nymphadora Tonks had looked exactly like her Aunt Narcissa as a child, so she had probably had the same color of eyes as him mum to warrant such praise.

"Whatever you want, Draco." She said carelessly, turning to walk to the front of the train, leaving Draco to struggle to carry his huge trunk all to himself.

"You could have… cast a levitating… charm." Draco said between pants for air, but gritted his teeth and slowly pulled his way to the front of the train.

"Took you long enough." She said, reaching around to grab the other end of the trunk and begin to exit the train. Draco had to rush forward to keep up with her, wincing at the pain shooting through his arm. He hadn't carried anything this heavy in a while… probably had been years, in fact.

"Where do you think Narcissa could be?" She asked after a moment, looking around the deserted platform.

"I don't know… maybe at Diagon Alley? She usually picks up some robes there before coming to pick me up… with my father."

He saw her stiffen at the mention of his father. She should, she was an Auror, had helped put his father in PRISON. But he couldn't feel angry at her-she, unlike Potter, had been doing her job. Maybe it was his father's fault for-

No, my father was set up! My father is not to blame! He's innocent! Draco assured himself, nodding his head violently.

"Ok, so we'll head to the Alley then. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be carrying this trunk about London, so why don't we drop it off somewhere? I have a couple of friends who are just outside…"

Draco considered the situation. Either he could leave his precious belongings in the hands of strangers-more than likely MUDBLOODS, as those were the sort of folk his mother had said Nymphadora had befriended-or he could lug the heavy trunk all over London.

His muscles decided for him.

"Ok." He muttered, trying to feel the will to add a little glowering to his words but feeling only sullen.

They passed through the border between the platform and the rest of the station without incident. The Muggles brushed past them, casting odd looks at his Wizard Robes and the fact he was covered in slime. Stupid peons, thinking you own the world. Wait until my father…

Does what? Gets himself out of Azkaban and plays it safe for a few years? Draco shook his head again, wondering what would really change at his house when his father returned. He knew Azkaban could change a person-his mother had told him all about her cousin, the criminal Sirius Black, who had finally met his fate the same night as his father had been incarcerated.

"Where are your friends?" Draco finally asked, for the two had been wondering down the platform isle for a while.

She nodded towards a corner. "Turn there." She said, and together they cleared the corner…

Draco stared, his nerveless fingers dropping his side of the trunk despite the groan of protest from his cousin. Wordlessly he stared in horror at the savage figure of a man in front of him, wearing a ridiculous hat but staring at him with that unnatural eye…

"Oh, OH! No, Draco, that's the REAL Moody!" Nymphadora shouted, dropping her end of the trunk to come around to his side.

He tried to hold back the whimper, but all he could see was that unnatural eye, foretelling his ferret doom…

"Ah, Tonks, perhaps you can explain why you are accompanying a… Malfoy?" a familiar voice asked from behind the form of Mad-Eye Moody.

Draco turned his terrified eyes from the terror with one eye to the beast that had taught D.A.D.A. that one year. The one his father had worked hard to get kicked off the position.

Lupin the werewolf; the one who had been friends with Potter's parents of all people and was now standing next to the most feared man Draco had ever had the misfortune to meet… or at least see someone in the shape of.

"Oh Remus, this is Draco. He's my cousin and his mother seems to have forgotten … to pick him up."

He noticed the way the werewolf sized his cousin up and down and realized that he had called her by her surname. "Tonks?" He inquired, wondering why he had been so formal and yet she had not. Especially to a WEREWOLF.

Nymphadora turned towards him and smiled slowly. "Would you like being saddled with a name like Nymphadora? Be glad you were named after a constellation-- I got stuck with 'an insect phase' gift."

He blinked at her. He was named after a constellation? He frowned, wondering if it was true, and exactly why he had been named as such. He had always thought he had been named Draco because it was a serpent-like creature, pre-ordaining his greatness in Slytherin.

But… a constellation? A set of stars? That was incredibly weak! Couldn't be true!

"I guess not." He said slowly, looking down at his trunk.

She followed his gaze and laughed easily. "Hey, do you two think you can manage to look after Draco's trunk while we find his mother? My arm is hurting already, and it will look a little silly to be trudging around London with a trunk between us-"

"Even with Malfoy there covered with… what looks suspiciously like snail slime?" Lupin raised his eyebrows in amusement.

But that amusement was not shared with the boy COVERED in the slime. "It's slug Slime." Draco gritted out. "Snail slime is beneath me."

There was an unhealthy silence, until Moody whipped out his wand and preceded towards him. Draco yelped and took a large step backwards, tripping over his trunk.

"I think I should be the one to un-slime the young Malfoy." Lupin said, holding Moody back with by placing his pale hand against the larger man's chest. "He did have that traumatic experience with your… pretender."

"Eh, guess we know the clumsiness runs in the blood." Moody grunted, his one eye glittering at Draco in a way that made the boy even more uneasy.

Lupin scanned the area for Muggles and pulled out his one wand, swishing it around in the air as if to test it for some magical consistency. And then Lupin locked his eyes on Draco's and whispered a spell-

--and Draco felt his robes, skin, and very being cleansed of the slime. He had never felt cleaner in his life-he almost jumped up to hug the man, but remembered in time that the man wasn't a man, but a living animal trapped in a mortal's body.

He ignored Nymphadora's helping hand, managing to get up off his trunk on his own, dusting imaginary specks from his robes. "Thank you." He directed stiffly to the werewolf, avoiding the eyes of everyone in the small group.

When no one spoke or moved, he felt compelled to ask: "If we could find my mother?"

Nymphadora nodded to her two friends, a half smirk on her face. "I'll take the kid to his mum and then meet you back… at the place, alright? I'll probably come by Floo and take the trunk back to him…"

He saw Lupin nod, and then felt his cousin's hand on his arm pulling him away.

Draco knew it would only be polite to say goodbye as he departed, but given the circumstances and the… people involved, Draco felt confident that he had done the correct thing by ignoring Lupin's soft farewell and Moody's hearty cheerio.

It was, after all, the Malfoy thing to do.

Draco sped up, trying to keep up with his long legged cousin. Although she was the same height as he was, her legs seemed to have twice his stride; making him feel horribly inadequate.

"So, how did it feel?" He caught her ask after they left the Train station behind them and headed towards Diagon Alley.

"How does… what feel?" He asked between pants for air. He had done more exercise today then he had done all year-and that included Quidditch practices. Being a Seeker was easy because it required no muscle, after all.

"Becoming a slug! Was it horrible?"

He was silent for a moment, and not only because he was trying to catch his breath. "No worse than the rabbit." He managed, trying to appear nonchalant.

He caught her shaking her head. "I am sorry about turning you into a rabbit at your birthday party, Draco, but you had made me mad when you insulted my father. I love my father every bit as much as you love yours, Draco. And despite… the fact that I do not agree with what your father… practices, I can understand how you feel about him."

"Oh?" Draco began, but was unable to raise enough anger to continue. She was family, after all-and at the moment she was the only family he had. After all, it wouldn't do to have her turn him into a rabbit again.

He shuddered.

They had reached a cross walk, so both were able to pause to catch their breath. Nymphadora smiled at him, her hair still her natural silvery blonde color. "Your hair is sticking up at all angles-you should probably invest in a gel or mousse product." Draco let out before he could rethink his words.

But his cousin simply raised her eyebrows and pointed at his head. "You should speak." She said, her lips widening into a smile.

His eyes growing wide with horror, Draco reached up to find his hair in what could only be called total disarray. If his mother saw him like this, he'd never live to hear the end of it…

"Oh, it's not that bad! You look less of punk with your hair free-maybe you can attract more feminine attention, eh?" She said, nudging him in the side.

He stopped his attempts to smooth his hair back. "You really think so? Father said that women appreciate men with hair slicked back, because it indicated class-"

"Oh, it suits some men, but with your cheekbones you'd be better off with your hair in a freer style. Does it have any natural curl to it? I thought I remember your hair curling at the ends-"

"That was many years ago." Draco said simply as he began to pat down his hair again, wondering why he'd take the advice of a woman who alternated her hair color by the hour.

A muggle woman who was next to them looked from Nymphadora to him and smiled. "Taking your younger brother out on the town?" She asked, her voice thick with an accent Draco had never heard before.

Nymphadora laughed. "Oh, he's my cousin. He doesn't trust my judgment about his hairstyle-seems to think the slicked back style suits him more."

The woman scrunched up her nose. "Men with slicked back hair scream slime ball, if you ask me. Oh! A break in traffic!" The woman almost pranced out into the street, swinging her many bags around her in a strange windmill fashion.

"Oh, don't think all Muggles are that strange. That was a foreigner-not sure about the nationality, though. Odd accent… wonder if it's a form of an American one…" his cousin wondered, slowly moving out into the street.

Rolling his eyes, Draco followed suit, carefully making sure no Muggle automobiles would come crashing into him. He didn't trust Muggle technology, and automobiles frightened him even more than Moody did. His parents never walked about the Muggle streets and would probably disown him if they discovered him out and about, especially in such colorful company.

The two walked through London's busy streets for another half an hour, not speaking a word to each other. Draco was actually enjoying himself-a few girls, even if they WERE Muggles, had whistled at him-something that had never happened in the Wizard World. Well, except for Pansy, but she did all sorts of strange things. But Muggles they were, and he had been careful to scowl at them despite the sudden want to show off his perfect body for them to gawk at.

Except he didn't have a perfect body, just a nice one-- when it wasn't covered in slime, that is, or sweating profusely, as it was now. He wondered how much farther the two would have to walk when he realized they were within sight of The Leaky Cauldron.

The two entered the smoky inn that was crowded with people who could only be described as the usual cliental as well as a few of the students from Hogwarts and their parents. Draco ignored all of them, for there wasn't a Slytherin in the crowd and he rarely associated with non-slytherin. Instead he found himself being pulled towards the man he remembered owned the inn, a shady looking man named Tom.

"Hallo Tom!" His cousin greeted the owner heartily, but Tom's eyes were fixed on Draco.

"Is that… is that Mr. Malfoy's son?" The man managed to squeak, taking a step backwards.

It seemed to Draco that all the conversation in the room ceased as everyone turned to stare at him. Inwardly Draco knew that there were still people looking at their food and other interesting things, but he allowed himself to fantasize that EVERYONE was staring at him.

He shrank back from the man, wondering why he was afraid of him, and not in a good way, like a Hufflepuff shrinking away from you in the hall was. It wasn't like Draco was going to send him the Killing Curse for giving him an odd look, after all.

Draco didn't really know HOW to perform a Killing Curse, but he'd never admit that to anyone, least of all someone who was afraid of him.

"Why yes, Tom, this is Draco! He's my cousin, you see, and we're trying to find him mother-"

Tom looked from Nymphadora to Draco, his eyes bulging out in a most unbecoming way. I wonder if he's related to Pansy. He wondered.

"Haven't you heard? Mrs. Malfoy… she disappeared today! Ministry came to her… your house today for questioning, and the woman was gone!"

Draco felt the world spinning around him. His mother… was gone? Without him?

The day had grown inexplicably worse, but the only thing running through his mind was: At least no one remembered to bring any salt on the train.

**

Authors Note:

Hallo every one! Hopefully the length of the first chapter hasn't frightened anyone away! And yes, this will be a far more updated fanfic than Delusions! Mostly because I'm still at loss as to how to handle Delusions after book five. XD.

Grey will not feature too much romance (at least that's the plan), but will revolve around Draco having to grow up a bit. Not a real redemption story, because Draco hasn't done anything truly horrible yet to cause him to be needed to be redeemed. However, if seeing Draco in a moderately positive light is not for you, I'd recommend another fanfic, because he will be seen in a positive light as the story moves on. Well, a rather snarky positive light, but a positive light just the same.

As for Tonks… I've been itching to put Tonks in a story for ages now, but I hadn't had the chance until this idea popped into my head at 10pm on July 16th. Yes, this chapter is several months old but I waited until I was almost finished with chapter two before I uploaded it onto fanfiction.net. I'm currently working on a Neville-centric project which will consist of ten private investigating cases (and a lot of mischief), so look out for that project in March!

As for chapter two, I'm six pages into it and will probably post it in two weeks—but as I'm on vacation right now until late next week I'll probably have it posted sooner. MUA.

~Lainie