Chapter 10, JALS
Sep. 5th, 2005 01:42 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
minervaalistor.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
bottom_dracoTitle: Just Another Love Story
Summary: Harry's gay and ready for some loving. Draco hits a few rough spots
Rating: NC-17
Author: minerva alistor
Where: my lj
skyehawke
Draco was sitting in the Malfoy crypt, looking at the drawer that now held his father’s body. Lucius had been dead for nearly a month, and since they’d buried him three weeks ago, Draco had spent a lot of time in the crypt. Sometimes, he simply stared, still not quite able to believe that Lucius was in the drawer, half expecting that at any moment he would hear his father’s voice protesting the cramped accommodations in a loud voice. Other times he would talk to his father, asking why he’d made so many strange choices in his life and why he had forced Draco to follow the same twisted path. Still other times, he would rage at his father, cursing him for expecting so much from Draco, cursing him for killing himself, and cursing him for separating Draco from the one thing he loved most, Harry.
He missed Harry just as much as he missed his father.
Today had been a quiet day, and Draco had sat for hours with Lucius, just thinking. Holiday had begun at Hogwarts that week, and he found himself wondering over and over where Harry would spend his. He wondered if Harry missed him, if Harry thought about him at all. He wondered why Harry hadn’t tried to contact him, and he wondered what he would do if Harry did.
He had no sooner stepped out of the crypt into the twilight when an owl screech and flew at him. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound, but a smile soon spread over his features. It was Pansy’s owl. He hadn’t heard from her since he left Hogwarts either and had been too afraid to contact her. He figured she would never forgive him for striking her.
He held up his arm and the owl landed neatly at the crook and stuck out her leg. Draco eagerly untied the roll of parchment there. He fumbled in his cloak for something to give the owl for a treat; he had most of a scone tucked in his pocket, left over from that afternoon when his mother had sent an elf out with tea service for him. The owl nibbled it gratefully and flew off.
Draco went back inside the crypt, unable to wait until he got back to the manor to read the letter. He sat on the bench and unfurled the parchment. Pansy’s neat hand rolled out beneath his gaze.
Dear Draco,
I still hate you for hitting me, but I understand that you were upset. All I can say is, I wouldn’t turn your back on me for a while if I were you.
It was pretty easy to stay angry with you while I was at Hogwarts. Harry was a constant reminder of what an ass you had been. He has lost considerable weight and withdrawn from nearly everyone. DA meetings have become Hermione’s affair, and there was talk that he was going to quit the Quidditch team, but I think the other Gryffindors fairly forced him to carry on. He doesn’t eat in the hall anymore. The giant is back and after classes, Harry normally makes his way straight to the shack the oaf calls home. I’ve seen him down there, late at night, wandering amongst the dried up garden. And he of course spends an inordinate amount of time throwing rocks into the lake. I don’t think the poor squid has come out from the northeast corner since you left. His poor tentacles are probably cramped from lack of exercise.
But back here at home, it is harder to be angry with you. Photos of us from the time we were small are everywhere. I even have one of you in my pink party dress, having tea with Bertie the Bear. And it occurs to me that I miss you deeply.
Teddy is going to kill you, by the by.
So anyway, I imagine losing your dad has been tough, even so cold and noble a Malfoy as yourself. Knowing you, you are probably ready to speak to someone by now about it without being a total and complete shite. I’m home and I would love to see you. I promise I won’t bring up Harry. I also promise that I will be a complete and utter bitch to you for approximately one hour (I can’t have you think that I am getting soft), but then I will forgive you and play nice.
I love you Draco.
Kisses,
Pans
Draco wiped away the tears with the palm of his hand. He rolled the letter and stuffed it in his breast pocket, where it lay comfortably against his pounding heart.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Draco had not even landed his knuckles on the door a second time when it flew open and Pansy flew out of it. He was so taken aback that they nearly fell in a heap on the steps, but he managed, just, to keep them upright.
“I thought you were going to be an evil bitch for an hour or so,” he said, pulling away so he could see her face.
“I’ll start in a moment. You look horrible!” Pansy was grinning widely. She gave Draco a hard kiss on the mouth.
“It’s so good to see you,” Draco sighed. “I figured for sure you’d never speak to me again. I’m so sorry, Pans.”
“I’ve a good mind to smack you back, but for once, I will let bygones be bygones. You were grief stricken. It’s understandable. Come on in. It’s freezing out here.”
The elves took Draco’s cloak and Wellingtons and he and Pansy disappeared into her room, where they curled up comfortably in the center of her bed, Draco’s head resting in her lap, their old favorite position. She trailed her fingers through his hair.
“So, what are you going to do about Potter? He’s languishing, Draco. It’s not pretty.”
Draco rolled an eye towards her.
“I thought you weren’t going to bring him up.”
“I lied.”
Draco rubbed his hands over his face.
“I miss him more than I ever thought I could.”
Pansy stroked his hair.
“I bet he’d love to see you.”
Draco huffed in disbelief.
“You obviously don’t know Potter very well. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t hit me with every hex he’s ever learned when I get back to school. Besides, I have no idea where he is.”
Pansy leapt from the bed, jostling Draco’s head mightily.
“Hey!” he yelled.
“Oh stuff it.” She dug through her school trunk and pulled out a letter, sealed with a blob of silvery wax. “Here. I was told I should give this to you should you express any interest in seeing Harry.”
Draco propped up on one elbow. He took the letter, turning it between his fingers.
“Who is it from?”
“Dumbledore.”
Draco turned it several more times before lying on his back. He rested the letter on his chest.
“Does he really look miserable?”
“He and Weasley have come close to blows on two occasions that I know of, Granger says because Weasley is shit talking you. Other than that, I can’t give you any info. As I told you, he has very little to do with anyone anymore.”
Draco smiled and stroked the letter, imagining Harry turning red in the face, his jaw clenching as he went after Weasley.
“So you’re talking to Granger now?”
“I figured as soon as I saw you would start asking questions about Harry. Since he is all incommunicado, she’s the next best thing. He’s not even talking to her much, though.”
“Good. At least I’m not the only one who’s been miserable.”
Pansy swacked him across the face with a pillow.
“You’re the reason for the misery, you prat! You could end it all if you’d just find him and apologize!”
Draco pushed the pillow off his face and glared at Pansy.
“It’s not that easy. My mother doesn’t know about us. I…don’t know. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Have you and Teddy told your parents yet?”
Pansy rolled her eyes.
“Of course. We did do first thing when we got back. My mother nearly shat her knickers, I think. The Notts have some money, but compared to your fortune, it’s not much. I think mummy is a bit disappointed with that. Dad said he was fine with it though. Says the Malfoys aren’t what they used to be.”
Draco snorted. “You could certainly say that again.”
“The Malfoys aren’t what they used to be.”
“Oh ha ha Pansy.”
“In fact, I hear the son is a bloody shirt lifter.”
Draco glared.
“Likes to suck on other boy’s willies. One boy’s in particular, what I hear,” Pansy continued.
Draco furtively stretched his arm towards Pansy’s pillows. He grabbed one and closed his fist around the corner.
“I always suspected. A boy can’t be pretty like that and not be a poof. I mean, really. I bet he spends more time in front of the mirror than I do.”
“Yes, but I understand that he’s quite a good wizard,” Draco countered, pulling the pillow within striking distance.
“He’s overrated.”
Draco jumped to his knees and whacked Pansy hard enough that she tumbled backwards. Fortunately her bed was huge, so she didn’t fall off.
A mighty pillow fight ensued.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hours later, Draco was walking under a full moon, taking the path from the front of the Malfoy estate to the door of the manor. It was over two miles long, a cobblestone lane with an arch of oak trees hovering overhead. He had insisted that the driver let him off at the gate so that he could walk; he had a lot of thinking to do.
His father was dead. There was nothing Draco could do to bring him back. He had almost lost Pansy acting the fool over his father’s death, thinking he could take on Lucius’ persona and bring some respectability back to the family. But the truth was that any respectability the Malfoys had left had nothing to do with Lucius. The truth was, Draco didn’t know if anything he could do would ever save the family name.
The wind rattled the trees around him, a soft whisper that seemed to be gently comforting him in some way. He reached in his breast pocket and pulled out Dumbledore’s letter.
The silver wax shimmered in the moonlight. Draco cracked the seal with his forefinger.
Dear Draco,
12 Grimmauld Place, London.
Happy Christmas!
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
The letter burst into a stream of bright white flame that sparkled like fireflies as it died.
Draco took a deep breath, and with a more purposeful stride, headed towards his home.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was late, well past midnight, but Draco knew his mother would be awake. She slept nearly all day now, spending her nights alone in the conservatory, staring out at the sky as she sipped a cup of tea.
This is just as he found her, wrapped in a thick chimera fur blanket, her eyes far, far away.
“Mother?” he said quietly, stepping into the room. It was one of Draco’s favorite rooms in the house with its views of the gardens and the lake beyond.
Narcissa jumped a little and her hand fluttered to her chest.
“Draco! You gave me a fright! How was Pansy?”
Draco sat down next to his mother, looking deep into her eyes. She had been quiet and distant since Lucius’ funeral, more devastated than she would ever admit. But she had seen to it that in the days and nights Draco had spent either lying in bed or sitting in the family crypt that he was fed and taken care of. He knew she loved him. He just wondered if she loved him enough.
“Mother, I have to speak with you.”
“Of course, dear. I’ve been expecting this. Lucius’ death has been difficult. I knew you couldn’t hole up forever.”
“It’s not about Father. It’s about…well; it’s about a lot of things. None of which are going to make you very happy, I’m afraid.”
Narcissa’s brows creased ever so slightly.
“What is it, Draco?”
Draco flopped back and stared up at the ceiling. He pulled a pillow to his middle and clutched it to him.
“Well, first of all, Pansy and I aren’t getting married.”
“I knew that already.”
Draco turned to her, completely shocked.
“What? How?”
“There were contracts, Draco. The Parkinsons came to me several days ago; I think it was the day Pansy came home for holiday. They told me that she was marrying Theodore Nott. Things had to be dealt with.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I figured you had quite enough to get on with,” Narcissa said quietly.
Draco studied her. “I thought you’d be a lot more upset.”
“No, not really. There are quite a few other girls ready to fill Pansy’s shoes. You’re quite the eligible bachelor, dear.”
Draco’s eyes darkened.
“Don’t worry, love. Money fixes everything. Our name is not so smeared that we can’t find you a wife. I simply wanted to wait until you were ready to discuss it. There are two girls in France, one quite lovely, a girl from Russia, though she might be a bit…healthy for your tastes, another from –”
“I don’t want to marry anyone, mother.”
Narcissa’s mouth snapped shut.
“I’m…I’m in love with someone.”
Draco’s heart immediately felt as if it were trying to leap from his chest. It ran a wild circuit through his torso, finally landing in his throat.
“Well, dear, that is wonderful. Being in love always makes marriage so much more agreeable. Who is she dear? Anyone I know? Well certainly, I must know her. She’ll be from Hogwarts then?”
Draco reached out and took his mother’s hand. He looked once again into her sapphire blue eyes.
“Mum, you’re not going to like it. At all. In fact, you’re probably going to be rather angry.”
For the first time, Narcissa looked worried. Her face went flat, marble-like, impossible to read.
“Why, Draco? Surely you’ve not fallen for some, some Mud—Muggle born?”
“No. Half blood.”
Narcissa’s lip curled and her eyes went a shade deeper. Draco felt nauseated.
“A half blood? Well, that can happen to the most respectable families. My own sister married a Muggle. I….” Narcissa swallowed and held her chin higher, “I suppose I can live with that.”
“He’s a half blood,” Draco whispered.
Narcissa’s eyes widened and her hand twitched in Draco’s. He squeezed it tighter.
“What?” she whispered dangerously.
“I said, he’s a half blood. From a very famous family. Potters.” Draco could hardly force his voice out of his chest.
Narcissa sat completely still for a moment before yanking her hand away from Draco’s grip. She stood from the sofa they had been sharing, lips curled away from her teeth as if she smelled something rotten.
“What did you say?” she said, voice dripping with venom.
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He gritted his teeth together and spoke.
“I said, mother, that I am in love with Harry Potter.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Molly had been at Grimmauld for over two hours now and quite frankly, Harry wished she’d leave already. He was tired of hiding under his invisibility cloak. He loved Molly, but was in no mood for socializing. He had even avoided Remus since returning to Grimmauld for holiday.
At last, she showed signs of departing. She drained her tea cup (the third!), put it in the kitchen sink, and reached over and patted Remus’ hand.
“I know it’s hard, love, especially this time of year. But you’ve got to try and not think too much about him.”
Remus smiled ruefully. Harry’s ears perked up. Thought about whom, he wondered.
“It’s very hard, Molly. It was Christmas when he…passed. And we’d only just found one another again.”
“I know, dear, but he wouldn’t want you to pine. He’d want you to find someone else, to enjoy the holiday, to cheer Harry. I know there is something up with the dear, but none of my brood are talking. I was hoping to see him today…but you. You can’t keep doing this. He always frowned on depression. He’d want you to decorate, play loud music, drink and be merry.”
Harry’s mouth gaped. Could it be?
“You’re right, Molly, I know. But honestly, how can I ever replace him?”
Molly patted his hand again, but she had no answer for him.
“He was one of a kind. Thank the heavens. I’m not sure our little world could handle two Sirius Blacks.”
Harry’s mouth gaped wider. This changed everything.
Molly and Remus stood and made their way upstairs to say good-bye. Harry followed closely behind. Remus kissed Molly’s cheek, thanked her for the company. Molly extracted a promise from Remus that he would take care of Harry. The door shut and at last she was gone.
Remus turned to find Harry standing right behind him. He jumped a foot off the floor.
“Harry! You scared me witless! I didn’t hear you come up. You’re getting to be quite the sneak.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry demanded.
“Pardon?” Remus asked, confused and recovering from his fright.
“About you and Sirius. Why didn’t either of you ever tell me?”
Remus’ eyes narrowed.
“How long have you been listening in on mine and Molly’s conversation?”
“Long enough to know that it sounds like you and Sirius weren’t just best friends.”
Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He tugged at the hem of his jumper. He shuffled his feet.
“He didn’t want to tell you because he wasn’t sure you’d understand. You were only fifteen, just starting to really get interested in sex, and he was so afraid you wouldn’t like him anymore if you knew.”
“He thought I was some sort of homophobic arse?”
“No, Harry. He just knew that sometimes boys are uncomfortable with the idea of two men being together when they are just starting to navigate the sexual minefield. He wasn’t sure what sort of beliefs the Muggles had instilled in you, or what sort of influence Ron might have had. Purebloods are notoriously bigoted about this sort of thing, though Molly and Arthur never were. He was just afraid of losing you, Harry.”
“Yeah, well, it would’ve helped me a lot, knowing that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! Why do you think I’ve been moping around since I’ve been home? I’m in love! With a boy! I’ve been dumped in the most horrible way imaginable and I thought I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it!”
Remus’ mouth dropped.
“You’re…? How long have you known?”
“I only came to terms with it last summer.”
Remus clapped his hand onto Harry’s shoulder.
“Let’s go back to the kitchen and have a couple of Butterbeers, shall we? It seems you and I have much to talk about.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It took quite a while for Harry to tell Remus everything. It had been an enormous shock to find that Harry’s paramour was Draco Malfoy, but after that, things became quite chummy. After getting everything— his hurt, his anger, his loss—out of his system, Harry asked numerous questions about Remus and Sirius’ relationship. Remus, sad and lonely himself, was more than happy to relive some of their happier moments with Harry.
“I’m glad he had someone that made him so happy. I’m glad it was you,” Harry said quietly.
Remus just smiled. “Thanks.”
“Er, Remus?”
“Yes Harry?”
“Could you tell me about, um, you know? Er, the sex bit?”
Remus’ face turned beet red in seconds.
“Well, Harry, what exactly are you curious about?”
Harry wriggled uncomfortably and took a large swig of Butterbeer.
“Um, well, we’ve, I mean I’ve done most everything except that.”
Remus rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.
“Harry, do you mind if maybe we take this up tomorrow? It has been an evening full of shocks and really, I don’t know if I’m quite up for this conversation at the moment. It’s late and I think I could, er, handle it better given a night to sleep on things. Is that okay?”
Harry grinned. He was blushing too.
“Yeah, sure. It has been a night full of surprises.”
The two men rose from the table and threw their Butterbeer bottles in the trash. They headed up the stairs and said a hasty good night.
Harry had just gotten comfortable in his bed, trying hard not to think about Draco, when the doorbell rang out through the dark house.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Narcissa’s hand swoop in a wide arc, her large diamond wedding ring sparkling like a star, before making hard contact with Draco’s face. His head reeled back with a snap and his hands flew protectively in front of him.
“Mother!”
Narcissa raised her hand again, but stopped short of striking.
“You get out of my house,” she hissed, voice barely audible. Narcissa didn’t yell when she was truly angry; her voice took on this low, deadly tone.
“Mother, please, can we just sleep on this and talk in the morning?” Draco could feel the coppery tang of blood dripping into his mouth. He touched the corner of his lips with his fingers. They came back red. “I’m bleeding,” he said, voice shocked and hollow.
“You’re lucky I don’t kill you. Get out. Take nothing. If you think for one minute that I am going to allow you to benefit from a lifetime of generosity when you repay me in this way, you’re mad.”
Draco licked the blood away from his mouth and looked at his mother.
“I can’t help it. I tried to tell myself I didn’t love him, but—”
Narcissa landed another blow to Draco’s cheek. Her ring left a slash along his cheekbone.
“Don’t you speak another word about your vileness under this roof. Get out, right now, or I swear I will put you out myself in a most unpleasant way.”
Draco stood, trembling from head to foot. He was surprised by how numb he was. This scene was playing out far worse than he had ever imagined it would, yet he felt nothing.
“Can I just get a few things? Some money from my room? I have no where to go.”
Narcissa snarled at him.
“Sleep in the gutter like the filthy animal you are for all I care. You’re lucky I’m letting you take the clothes on your back! You make me sick. Just get out!”
Draco stared at her in utter disbelief. A choked laugh came from his throat, though he couldn’t feel it.
“You know, for the first time, I think I actually see you, you and father, for the people you really are,” he said. He pulled his cloak tight around him and headed for the door.
Once outside, the tears started to fall, the salt stinging his cheek and his lip. His mother had never hit him before, not even a mild spanking as a child. All of the tension he had built up before his confession now rushed out of his body. He trembled so badly he had a difficult time walking. He reached the gates of Malfoy Manor, took two steps outside and threw up. He wiped his mouth when he’d done, looked back at the gates and cried harder. He knew he would never see his home again. Not his room, the lake, his horse, the hounds, none of it. He had no clothing, no money.
A small pop caused him to jump and clutch at his cloak. It was a small elf, already hitting herself in the head. She extended her clutched hand and unfurled her fist. A small stack of Galleons shone in the moonlight.
“Take these, Master Draco. You’ll be needing them.”
Draco gratefully took the money. He didn’t even know which house elf it was, he paid so little attention to them. Why she chose to perform this act of kindness was completely beyond him.
“Thank you,” he whispered. The little elf nodded, pulled hard on one floppy ear, and disappeared.
Draco walked the remaining distance to the road, breathing hard and trying to regain control of his emotions. He had to think. He could try Pansy’s place, but they had been planning on leaving for Switzerland just after they dropped Draco off. Not to mention that her mother had been more than a little curt with him in the car. He sighed. There was really only one thing to do.
He reached the road, a small dirt lane surrounded by woods on either side. The sound of crickets chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees were the only sounds. It had started to snow, and Draco stuck his tongue out and caught a snowflake. He looked right, then left. He took two steps back so that he was in the thick of dried grass that ran along the edges of the path and held up his right arm.
A loud bang shook the night and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of him. Despite his current desperate circumstances, Draco still curled his lips in a remarkable imitation of his mother. He hated the Knight Bus. It was common wizard transport and certainly a far cry from the Malfoy Bentley. But it would have to do, as he didn’t have a choice at the moment.
“You gonna stand there all night or what, mate?” Stan Shunpike called from the door.
Draco stepped forward and showed his pile of Galleons.
“Is this enough?”
“Depends on where yer goin’.”
“London. Grimmauld Place.”
Stan reached out and took all but one Galleon. He handed Draco a ticket.
“If you want ter spend that last one, you can get a toothbrush and some hot chocolate.”
Draco thought briefly that a toothbrush would be nice. Especially if he might be snogging Harry later. But Harry might have more sympathy if Draco showed up at Grimmauld truly empty handed. Besides, the way his night had gone, there was no reason to believe that Harry was going to make things easy for him.
“No, thanks. Where do I go?”
“Just find a spot and get comfy. And hang on. We’ve got a couple of stops before we get to London.”
Draco was thrown to the back of the bus as it took off into the night. Fortunately, he landed squarely on an empty bed and figured he’d just make the best of it. His body hurt all over from stress. His face and mouth were throbbing from Narcissa’s blows.
Very slowly, he placed his hand over his heart. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, praying to whatever Gods and Goddesses there were that Harry would take him back.
Summary: Harry's gay and ready for some loving. Draco hits a few rough spots
Rating: NC-17
Author: minerva alistor
Where: my lj
skyehawke
Draco was sitting in the Malfoy crypt, looking at the drawer that now held his father’s body. Lucius had been dead for nearly a month, and since they’d buried him three weeks ago, Draco had spent a lot of time in the crypt. Sometimes, he simply stared, still not quite able to believe that Lucius was in the drawer, half expecting that at any moment he would hear his father’s voice protesting the cramped accommodations in a loud voice. Other times he would talk to his father, asking why he’d made so many strange choices in his life and why he had forced Draco to follow the same twisted path. Still other times, he would rage at his father, cursing him for expecting so much from Draco, cursing him for killing himself, and cursing him for separating Draco from the one thing he loved most, Harry.
He missed Harry just as much as he missed his father.
Today had been a quiet day, and Draco had sat for hours with Lucius, just thinking. Holiday had begun at Hogwarts that week, and he found himself wondering over and over where Harry would spend his. He wondered if Harry missed him, if Harry thought about him at all. He wondered why Harry hadn’t tried to contact him, and he wondered what he would do if Harry did.
He had no sooner stepped out of the crypt into the twilight when an owl screech and flew at him. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound, but a smile soon spread over his features. It was Pansy’s owl. He hadn’t heard from her since he left Hogwarts either and had been too afraid to contact her. He figured she would never forgive him for striking her.
He held up his arm and the owl landed neatly at the crook and stuck out her leg. Draco eagerly untied the roll of parchment there. He fumbled in his cloak for something to give the owl for a treat; he had most of a scone tucked in his pocket, left over from that afternoon when his mother had sent an elf out with tea service for him. The owl nibbled it gratefully and flew off.
Draco went back inside the crypt, unable to wait until he got back to the manor to read the letter. He sat on the bench and unfurled the parchment. Pansy’s neat hand rolled out beneath his gaze.
Dear Draco,
I still hate you for hitting me, but I understand that you were upset. All I can say is, I wouldn’t turn your back on me for a while if I were you.
It was pretty easy to stay angry with you while I was at Hogwarts. Harry was a constant reminder of what an ass you had been. He has lost considerable weight and withdrawn from nearly everyone. DA meetings have become Hermione’s affair, and there was talk that he was going to quit the Quidditch team, but I think the other Gryffindors fairly forced him to carry on. He doesn’t eat in the hall anymore. The giant is back and after classes, Harry normally makes his way straight to the shack the oaf calls home. I’ve seen him down there, late at night, wandering amongst the dried up garden. And he of course spends an inordinate amount of time throwing rocks into the lake. I don’t think the poor squid has come out from the northeast corner since you left. His poor tentacles are probably cramped from lack of exercise.
But back here at home, it is harder to be angry with you. Photos of us from the time we were small are everywhere. I even have one of you in my pink party dress, having tea with Bertie the Bear. And it occurs to me that I miss you deeply.
Teddy is going to kill you, by the by.
So anyway, I imagine losing your dad has been tough, even so cold and noble a Malfoy as yourself. Knowing you, you are probably ready to speak to someone by now about it without being a total and complete shite. I’m home and I would love to see you. I promise I won’t bring up Harry. I also promise that I will be a complete and utter bitch to you for approximately one hour (I can’t have you think that I am getting soft), but then I will forgive you and play nice.
I love you Draco.
Kisses,
Pans
Draco wiped away the tears with the palm of his hand. He rolled the letter and stuffed it in his breast pocket, where it lay comfortably against his pounding heart.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Draco had not even landed his knuckles on the door a second time when it flew open and Pansy flew out of it. He was so taken aback that they nearly fell in a heap on the steps, but he managed, just, to keep them upright.
“I thought you were going to be an evil bitch for an hour or so,” he said, pulling away so he could see her face.
“I’ll start in a moment. You look horrible!” Pansy was grinning widely. She gave Draco a hard kiss on the mouth.
“It’s so good to see you,” Draco sighed. “I figured for sure you’d never speak to me again. I’m so sorry, Pans.”
“I’ve a good mind to smack you back, but for once, I will let bygones be bygones. You were grief stricken. It’s understandable. Come on in. It’s freezing out here.”
The elves took Draco’s cloak and Wellingtons and he and Pansy disappeared into her room, where they curled up comfortably in the center of her bed, Draco’s head resting in her lap, their old favorite position. She trailed her fingers through his hair.
“So, what are you going to do about Potter? He’s languishing, Draco. It’s not pretty.”
Draco rolled an eye towards her.
“I thought you weren’t going to bring him up.”
“I lied.”
Draco rubbed his hands over his face.
“I miss him more than I ever thought I could.”
Pansy stroked his hair.
“I bet he’d love to see you.”
Draco huffed in disbelief.
“You obviously don’t know Potter very well. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t hit me with every hex he’s ever learned when I get back to school. Besides, I have no idea where he is.”
Pansy leapt from the bed, jostling Draco’s head mightily.
“Hey!” he yelled.
“Oh stuff it.” She dug through her school trunk and pulled out a letter, sealed with a blob of silvery wax. “Here. I was told I should give this to you should you express any interest in seeing Harry.”
Draco propped up on one elbow. He took the letter, turning it between his fingers.
“Who is it from?”
“Dumbledore.”
Draco turned it several more times before lying on his back. He rested the letter on his chest.
“Does he really look miserable?”
“He and Weasley have come close to blows on two occasions that I know of, Granger says because Weasley is shit talking you. Other than that, I can’t give you any info. As I told you, he has very little to do with anyone anymore.”
Draco smiled and stroked the letter, imagining Harry turning red in the face, his jaw clenching as he went after Weasley.
“So you’re talking to Granger now?”
“I figured as soon as I saw you would start asking questions about Harry. Since he is all incommunicado, she’s the next best thing. He’s not even talking to her much, though.”
“Good. At least I’m not the only one who’s been miserable.”
Pansy swacked him across the face with a pillow.
“You’re the reason for the misery, you prat! You could end it all if you’d just find him and apologize!”
Draco pushed the pillow off his face and glared at Pansy.
“It’s not that easy. My mother doesn’t know about us. I…don’t know. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Have you and Teddy told your parents yet?”
Pansy rolled her eyes.
“Of course. We did do first thing when we got back. My mother nearly shat her knickers, I think. The Notts have some money, but compared to your fortune, it’s not much. I think mummy is a bit disappointed with that. Dad said he was fine with it though. Says the Malfoys aren’t what they used to be.”
Draco snorted. “You could certainly say that again.”
“The Malfoys aren’t what they used to be.”
“Oh ha ha Pansy.”
“In fact, I hear the son is a bloody shirt lifter.”
Draco glared.
“Likes to suck on other boy’s willies. One boy’s in particular, what I hear,” Pansy continued.
Draco furtively stretched his arm towards Pansy’s pillows. He grabbed one and closed his fist around the corner.
“I always suspected. A boy can’t be pretty like that and not be a poof. I mean, really. I bet he spends more time in front of the mirror than I do.”
“Yes, but I understand that he’s quite a good wizard,” Draco countered, pulling the pillow within striking distance.
“He’s overrated.”
Draco jumped to his knees and whacked Pansy hard enough that she tumbled backwards. Fortunately her bed was huge, so she didn’t fall off.
A mighty pillow fight ensued.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hours later, Draco was walking under a full moon, taking the path from the front of the Malfoy estate to the door of the manor. It was over two miles long, a cobblestone lane with an arch of oak trees hovering overhead. He had insisted that the driver let him off at the gate so that he could walk; he had a lot of thinking to do.
His father was dead. There was nothing Draco could do to bring him back. He had almost lost Pansy acting the fool over his father’s death, thinking he could take on Lucius’ persona and bring some respectability back to the family. But the truth was that any respectability the Malfoys had left had nothing to do with Lucius. The truth was, Draco didn’t know if anything he could do would ever save the family name.
The wind rattled the trees around him, a soft whisper that seemed to be gently comforting him in some way. He reached in his breast pocket and pulled out Dumbledore’s letter.
The silver wax shimmered in the moonlight. Draco cracked the seal with his forefinger.
Dear Draco,
12 Grimmauld Place, London.
Happy Christmas!
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
The letter burst into a stream of bright white flame that sparkled like fireflies as it died.
Draco took a deep breath, and with a more purposeful stride, headed towards his home.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was late, well past midnight, but Draco knew his mother would be awake. She slept nearly all day now, spending her nights alone in the conservatory, staring out at the sky as she sipped a cup of tea.
This is just as he found her, wrapped in a thick chimera fur blanket, her eyes far, far away.
“Mother?” he said quietly, stepping into the room. It was one of Draco’s favorite rooms in the house with its views of the gardens and the lake beyond.
Narcissa jumped a little and her hand fluttered to her chest.
“Draco! You gave me a fright! How was Pansy?”
Draco sat down next to his mother, looking deep into her eyes. She had been quiet and distant since Lucius’ funeral, more devastated than she would ever admit. But she had seen to it that in the days and nights Draco had spent either lying in bed or sitting in the family crypt that he was fed and taken care of. He knew she loved him. He just wondered if she loved him enough.
“Mother, I have to speak with you.”
“Of course, dear. I’ve been expecting this. Lucius’ death has been difficult. I knew you couldn’t hole up forever.”
“It’s not about Father. It’s about…well; it’s about a lot of things. None of which are going to make you very happy, I’m afraid.”
Narcissa’s brows creased ever so slightly.
“What is it, Draco?”
Draco flopped back and stared up at the ceiling. He pulled a pillow to his middle and clutched it to him.
“Well, first of all, Pansy and I aren’t getting married.”
“I knew that already.”
Draco turned to her, completely shocked.
“What? How?”
“There were contracts, Draco. The Parkinsons came to me several days ago; I think it was the day Pansy came home for holiday. They told me that she was marrying Theodore Nott. Things had to be dealt with.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I figured you had quite enough to get on with,” Narcissa said quietly.
Draco studied her. “I thought you’d be a lot more upset.”
“No, not really. There are quite a few other girls ready to fill Pansy’s shoes. You’re quite the eligible bachelor, dear.”
Draco’s eyes darkened.
“Don’t worry, love. Money fixes everything. Our name is not so smeared that we can’t find you a wife. I simply wanted to wait until you were ready to discuss it. There are two girls in France, one quite lovely, a girl from Russia, though she might be a bit…healthy for your tastes, another from –”
“I don’t want to marry anyone, mother.”
Narcissa’s mouth snapped shut.
“I’m…I’m in love with someone.”
Draco’s heart immediately felt as if it were trying to leap from his chest. It ran a wild circuit through his torso, finally landing in his throat.
“Well, dear, that is wonderful. Being in love always makes marriage so much more agreeable. Who is she dear? Anyone I know? Well certainly, I must know her. She’ll be from Hogwarts then?”
Draco reached out and took his mother’s hand. He looked once again into her sapphire blue eyes.
“Mum, you’re not going to like it. At all. In fact, you’re probably going to be rather angry.”
For the first time, Narcissa looked worried. Her face went flat, marble-like, impossible to read.
“Why, Draco? Surely you’ve not fallen for some, some Mud—Muggle born?”
“No. Half blood.”
Narcissa’s lip curled and her eyes went a shade deeper. Draco felt nauseated.
“A half blood? Well, that can happen to the most respectable families. My own sister married a Muggle. I….” Narcissa swallowed and held her chin higher, “I suppose I can live with that.”
“He’s a half blood,” Draco whispered.
Narcissa’s eyes widened and her hand twitched in Draco’s. He squeezed it tighter.
“What?” she whispered dangerously.
“I said, he’s a half blood. From a very famous family. Potters.” Draco could hardly force his voice out of his chest.
Narcissa sat completely still for a moment before yanking her hand away from Draco’s grip. She stood from the sofa they had been sharing, lips curled away from her teeth as if she smelled something rotten.
“What did you say?” she said, voice dripping with venom.
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He gritted his teeth together and spoke.
“I said, mother, that I am in love with Harry Potter.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Molly had been at Grimmauld for over two hours now and quite frankly, Harry wished she’d leave already. He was tired of hiding under his invisibility cloak. He loved Molly, but was in no mood for socializing. He had even avoided Remus since returning to Grimmauld for holiday.
At last, she showed signs of departing. She drained her tea cup (the third!), put it in the kitchen sink, and reached over and patted Remus’ hand.
“I know it’s hard, love, especially this time of year. But you’ve got to try and not think too much about him.”
Remus smiled ruefully. Harry’s ears perked up. Thought about whom, he wondered.
“It’s very hard, Molly. It was Christmas when he…passed. And we’d only just found one another again.”
“I know, dear, but he wouldn’t want you to pine. He’d want you to find someone else, to enjoy the holiday, to cheer Harry. I know there is something up with the dear, but none of my brood are talking. I was hoping to see him today…but you. You can’t keep doing this. He always frowned on depression. He’d want you to decorate, play loud music, drink and be merry.”
Harry’s mouth gaped. Could it be?
“You’re right, Molly, I know. But honestly, how can I ever replace him?”
Molly patted his hand again, but she had no answer for him.
“He was one of a kind. Thank the heavens. I’m not sure our little world could handle two Sirius Blacks.”
Harry’s mouth gaped wider. This changed everything.
Molly and Remus stood and made their way upstairs to say good-bye. Harry followed closely behind. Remus kissed Molly’s cheek, thanked her for the company. Molly extracted a promise from Remus that he would take care of Harry. The door shut and at last she was gone.
Remus turned to find Harry standing right behind him. He jumped a foot off the floor.
“Harry! You scared me witless! I didn’t hear you come up. You’re getting to be quite the sneak.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry demanded.
“Pardon?” Remus asked, confused and recovering from his fright.
“About you and Sirius. Why didn’t either of you ever tell me?”
Remus’ eyes narrowed.
“How long have you been listening in on mine and Molly’s conversation?”
“Long enough to know that it sounds like you and Sirius weren’t just best friends.”
Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He tugged at the hem of his jumper. He shuffled his feet.
“He didn’t want to tell you because he wasn’t sure you’d understand. You were only fifteen, just starting to really get interested in sex, and he was so afraid you wouldn’t like him anymore if you knew.”
“He thought I was some sort of homophobic arse?”
“No, Harry. He just knew that sometimes boys are uncomfortable with the idea of two men being together when they are just starting to navigate the sexual minefield. He wasn’t sure what sort of beliefs the Muggles had instilled in you, or what sort of influence Ron might have had. Purebloods are notoriously bigoted about this sort of thing, though Molly and Arthur never were. He was just afraid of losing you, Harry.”
“Yeah, well, it would’ve helped me a lot, knowing that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! Why do you think I’ve been moping around since I’ve been home? I’m in love! With a boy! I’ve been dumped in the most horrible way imaginable and I thought I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it!”
Remus’ mouth dropped.
“You’re…? How long have you known?”
“I only came to terms with it last summer.”
Remus clapped his hand onto Harry’s shoulder.
“Let’s go back to the kitchen and have a couple of Butterbeers, shall we? It seems you and I have much to talk about.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It took quite a while for Harry to tell Remus everything. It had been an enormous shock to find that Harry’s paramour was Draco Malfoy, but after that, things became quite chummy. After getting everything— his hurt, his anger, his loss—out of his system, Harry asked numerous questions about Remus and Sirius’ relationship. Remus, sad and lonely himself, was more than happy to relive some of their happier moments with Harry.
“I’m glad he had someone that made him so happy. I’m glad it was you,” Harry said quietly.
Remus just smiled. “Thanks.”
“Er, Remus?”
“Yes Harry?”
“Could you tell me about, um, you know? Er, the sex bit?”
Remus’ face turned beet red in seconds.
“Well, Harry, what exactly are you curious about?”
Harry wriggled uncomfortably and took a large swig of Butterbeer.
“Um, well, we’ve, I mean I’ve done most everything except that.”
Remus rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.
“Harry, do you mind if maybe we take this up tomorrow? It has been an evening full of shocks and really, I don’t know if I’m quite up for this conversation at the moment. It’s late and I think I could, er, handle it better given a night to sleep on things. Is that okay?”
Harry grinned. He was blushing too.
“Yeah, sure. It has been a night full of surprises.”
The two men rose from the table and threw their Butterbeer bottles in the trash. They headed up the stairs and said a hasty good night.
Harry had just gotten comfortable in his bed, trying hard not to think about Draco, when the doorbell rang out through the dark house.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Narcissa’s hand swoop in a wide arc, her large diamond wedding ring sparkling like a star, before making hard contact with Draco’s face. His head reeled back with a snap and his hands flew protectively in front of him.
“Mother!”
Narcissa raised her hand again, but stopped short of striking.
“You get out of my house,” she hissed, voice barely audible. Narcissa didn’t yell when she was truly angry; her voice took on this low, deadly tone.
“Mother, please, can we just sleep on this and talk in the morning?” Draco could feel the coppery tang of blood dripping into his mouth. He touched the corner of his lips with his fingers. They came back red. “I’m bleeding,” he said, voice shocked and hollow.
“You’re lucky I don’t kill you. Get out. Take nothing. If you think for one minute that I am going to allow you to benefit from a lifetime of generosity when you repay me in this way, you’re mad.”
Draco licked the blood away from his mouth and looked at his mother.
“I can’t help it. I tried to tell myself I didn’t love him, but—”
Narcissa landed another blow to Draco’s cheek. Her ring left a slash along his cheekbone.
“Don’t you speak another word about your vileness under this roof. Get out, right now, or I swear I will put you out myself in a most unpleasant way.”
Draco stood, trembling from head to foot. He was surprised by how numb he was. This scene was playing out far worse than he had ever imagined it would, yet he felt nothing.
“Can I just get a few things? Some money from my room? I have no where to go.”
Narcissa snarled at him.
“Sleep in the gutter like the filthy animal you are for all I care. You’re lucky I’m letting you take the clothes on your back! You make me sick. Just get out!”
Draco stared at her in utter disbelief. A choked laugh came from his throat, though he couldn’t feel it.
“You know, for the first time, I think I actually see you, you and father, for the people you really are,” he said. He pulled his cloak tight around him and headed for the door.
Once outside, the tears started to fall, the salt stinging his cheek and his lip. His mother had never hit him before, not even a mild spanking as a child. All of the tension he had built up before his confession now rushed out of his body. He trembled so badly he had a difficult time walking. He reached the gates of Malfoy Manor, took two steps outside and threw up. He wiped his mouth when he’d done, looked back at the gates and cried harder. He knew he would never see his home again. Not his room, the lake, his horse, the hounds, none of it. He had no clothing, no money.
A small pop caused him to jump and clutch at his cloak. It was a small elf, already hitting herself in the head. She extended her clutched hand and unfurled her fist. A small stack of Galleons shone in the moonlight.
“Take these, Master Draco. You’ll be needing them.”
Draco gratefully took the money. He didn’t even know which house elf it was, he paid so little attention to them. Why she chose to perform this act of kindness was completely beyond him.
“Thank you,” he whispered. The little elf nodded, pulled hard on one floppy ear, and disappeared.
Draco walked the remaining distance to the road, breathing hard and trying to regain control of his emotions. He had to think. He could try Pansy’s place, but they had been planning on leaving for Switzerland just after they dropped Draco off. Not to mention that her mother had been more than a little curt with him in the car. He sighed. There was really only one thing to do.
He reached the road, a small dirt lane surrounded by woods on either side. The sound of crickets chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees were the only sounds. It had started to snow, and Draco stuck his tongue out and caught a snowflake. He looked right, then left. He took two steps back so that he was in the thick of dried grass that ran along the edges of the path and held up his right arm.
A loud bang shook the night and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of him. Despite his current desperate circumstances, Draco still curled his lips in a remarkable imitation of his mother. He hated the Knight Bus. It was common wizard transport and certainly a far cry from the Malfoy Bentley. But it would have to do, as he didn’t have a choice at the moment.
“You gonna stand there all night or what, mate?” Stan Shunpike called from the door.
Draco stepped forward and showed his pile of Galleons.
“Is this enough?”
“Depends on where yer goin’.”
“London. Grimmauld Place.”
Stan reached out and took all but one Galleon. He handed Draco a ticket.
“If you want ter spend that last one, you can get a toothbrush and some hot chocolate.”
Draco thought briefly that a toothbrush would be nice. Especially if he might be snogging Harry later. But Harry might have more sympathy if Draco showed up at Grimmauld truly empty handed. Besides, the way his night had gone, there was no reason to believe that Harry was going to make things easy for him.
“No, thanks. Where do I go?”
“Just find a spot and get comfy. And hang on. We’ve got a couple of stops before we get to London.”
Draco was thrown to the back of the bus as it took off into the night. Fortunately, he landed squarely on an empty bed and figured he’d just make the best of it. His body hurt all over from stress. His face and mouth were throbbing from Narcissa’s blows.
Very slowly, he placed his hand over his heart. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, praying to whatever Gods and Goddesses there were that Harry would take him back.
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Date: 2005-09-10 12:46 am (UTC)