Remorse, Repairs, and Acceptance
Copyright:All characters of Harry Potter are solely owned by J. K. Rowling.
AN: To Mrs. Rowling, thank you so much for giving us seven years of Harry's life, I hope that fans will enjoy this story as a continuation of what happens after the Battle and Defeat of Voldemort. Please enjoy and reviews, good or bad, are welcome.
A warning Deathly Hallows spoilers are in this story, so if you're not done, please do not read any farther and finish first.
Subsequently any information from Pottermore will be applied to this story in regards to various characters.
Edit: Given the time that this was last put up I had to take this down and redo most of it. Story will have changed some to be more faithful to the additional information that came from Ms. Rowling herself and the Pottermore site. To previous readers thank you for your reviews before, I apologize for taking the original down but I needed to fix it.
Chapter One: Tarnished Marks
From where he stood Diagon Alley looked nothing like it had the first year he had attended Hogwarts. Silent and desolate, it had only been three weeks since the court proceeding in the Wizengamot, about a month since the Battle at Hogwarts, and a week since he had been allowed out of the mansion. Unlike his parents for whom the court gave what they felt was a lenient sentence, Draco was virtually exonerated for his actions. Thanks to Potter and his friends, and to his father for providing evidence of fellow Death Eaters that had gone into hiding, Draco was a "Free" man, or as free as anyone who had been associated with Voldemort could be.
Potter, the name held a different meaning for him now. At one time he despised the young man with the lighting scar on his forehead. He'd been jealous, not of Harry, (well not that much), but of his friends. He'd chosen a boy like Weasley, a boy that seemed as simple minded from a lower class wizarding family, and a muggle-born, Granger, as friends over him. Draco did not want to admit it back then, but it had hurt. It wasn't so much that he wanted to prove something, but he thought that being with Harry would give him something more then what he had with Crabbe and Goyle. There was a difference there, a sense of comradery that, previously, he had not understood until things were going terribly wrong. Potter's friends stuck by him, they didn't just want to be friends because of blood, wealth or even status. No, their friendship had been struck by something wholly unique. Respect, admiration, and love, something that neither of his supposed friends had really ever given him.
Goyle and Crabbe were part of the inner circle and that was the way his father had wanted to keep it. Draco had been exclusively fond of either of them in a certain way. He knew them as friends, or more accurately, subordinates who did as he said and were willing to play along as long as they had fun. They weren't idiots, at least not most of the time, but they weren't the brightest candle in the candelabra.
And what did those two go and do?Draco thought bitterly as he walked down the street, past some boarded up shops with notices on them that announced that they would be reopening soon. Nearly got me killed, and Crabbe killed himself. Stupid…
He stared down, blinking. Thoughts of Crabbe mingled in his memories; the earliest times they had met, their first time meeting Potter and the fact that Crabbe had been, un-surprisingly excited to see the boy for the first time, and how willingly it seemed that Crabbe was to follow his every direction. It wasn't until he started to think of how things changed after their fifth year. Crabbe had grown restless, and Draco was realizing more and more how little power he truly had over the two of them. He remembered how Crabbe had turned on him, the fact that he said that they had a more powerful master to serve, and his screams as his spell consumed him.
Crabbe's senseless death weighed on Draco. Maybe if he'd trusted his instinct that it was a foolish plan, or listened to Snape, maybe then people would be alive. But he would never know because he had made his choices and now regretted it.
Heading past Potage's Cauldron shop he glanced at the closed up Flourish and Blott's, and noticed a large sign that kept changing its writing style announcing proudly, "Closed for Remodeling! Coming Soon! An all new Flourish and Blott's. Grand Opening and Victory Sale!"
Draco sniffed looking at it. A Grand Opening Sale? Why am I not surprised they would call it a Victory sale as well.
For most it was a victory, in a way it was for the Malfoys too. They had avoided Azkaban, but they didn't get off easy at all. There was a stigma around the name now, Draco knew it, and felt it. Every day there was more news about Aurors hunting down followers of the Dark Lord, and every day the Prophet would mention his father's name in print, reminding people who gave up information, but also that the Malfoy's had been connected to the Death Eaters in the first place.
Draco knew he would not be welcomed, even if it was a public event, the stares and whispers would follow him. That was the last thing he wanted. The less people saw of them, the quieter the talk was, the quieter the talk was the less he had to feel looks of pity, shame, angry and disgust from his fellow wizards as he passed by.
Draco moved swiftly away from the store, ignoring the stares he got from a few ladies that were passing by on the other side. He had to keep a low profile and tried to keep to himself as he walked down the street. His mind was on the choice of words. "Victory Sale!" Didn't these people understand that even if it was a win for them, it wasn't like everyone was celebrating? His family would never get to celebrate, never get to freely be seen in society as people to aspire to. The family's fortune was going to various causes, not only the lawyer they had hired to get him off, but also to restore the house, and help with the restoration of Hogwarts.
He could no longer get exactly what he wanted, he wasn't going to get to finish his last year, although McGonagall had, generously, sent him a letter letting him know that he could study at his house for the N.E.W.T.S. Draco stuffed his hand in his pocket and felt the folded paper. His mother had sent the new Headmistress a letter expressing thanks, and agreed to Draco being tutored by Owl. He didn't plan on actually studying though, what was the point? After everything that happened it wasn't like he was ever going to return to the status that he'd once enjoyed.
He was partly happy not to have to go back to school. Not like anyone he knew would be there. Pansy had said she and her family were moving to France or something of the sort, he hadn't really been paying her much attention, and a few others were going to go out of the country to live with relatives. Goyle was still in the hospital, and the one person he'd heard from, other than Pansy, was Theodore Nott.
Nott was one of the few people that Draco considered an equal. He could converse easily with him, because like Draco during the battle, Nott hadn't really followed the Dark Lord. He wasn't overly vocal against him, but Theodore had never once said anything in favor of him either. He didn't join any of the gangs at Slytherin, he didn't run with anyone, and he certainly didn't stand out. The few people that Draco had seen him hanging around with were a small group of fifth, and one or two sixth years, that were mostly ignored by the majority of Slytherins. They were the outcasts, those who had friends in other houses, and were deemed to be inferior to the rest of the Slytherin house.
The letter from Pansy had been information that he didn't need to know about. How awful the whole fight was, the sad loss of so many of their "friends" parents, and also how Draco was dealing with his imprisonment, as she had put it. He'd read the letter so many times over that his fingers had left creased impressions in the paper.
She didn't understand; Not at all. She couldn't understand it would be impossible for her to know how he felt. How he had struggled when he had been forced to use curses on people that had never wronged him, while Voldemort…no Riddle…stood there watching. He found enjoyment in making Draco suffer, and it made Draco sick. Pansy thought that Riddle had been some demigod, she honestly didn't get it. Being a Death Eater was NOTHING like they imagined it to be. There was no reward in it, just lots of pain and punishment from a mental case.
Draco shuddered in the shadows, he felt cold even though the summer heat was in the high nineties. Memories of the night that Potter and his friends had come into the house, the fight, and the loss of his wand, swirled into his thoughts. The wands, he wasn't thinking at the time when he let Potter take them and that had changed everything. From the moment that he lost the wand to the moment that he made the realization about the whole situation after the fact. Had things not played out the way they had, had he not lost that fight, things would have been terribly different, and the twisted fact was, he would have most likely been dead or suffering something far worse under Riddle's commands.
He was tired of the whole thing, sickened by what he'd seen, what he'd been forced to do. He wanted it to end, but he'd been scared. Dumbledore was right, he was no killer, nor was he courageous. He was just a child trying to act big, playing that he was more than he truly was. Potter, for all his folly and mussed form, was more of an adult then he was. Draco hated to admit it, but some small part of him admired Harry for his courage and strength, and it made him second guess himself.
Years ago he would have thought his problems had been brought on by Potter, now he knew that it was only his own fault. Draco stopped walking and sat by the boarded up ice cream parlor. Tables had been placed out and Draco took a seat. Rumors of Florean Fortescue having hid out in Italy and returning in time for the rush to Hogwarts were running ramped. Draco wondered what it would have been like to be on the run. Could he have made it? Would he have survived?
"Probably not," he muttered to no one and crossed his arms letting out a slow breath. Leaning back he looked up at the hazy sky, feeling glad to be outside of the house, and wondered what Potter and his posse were doing. He'd read in the paper earlier that month about the burials of Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin and his wife Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin and Draco had twitched.
While he had never liked Harry's friends, he had nothing against the twins. After all they had gotten the fifth years out of having to take the O.W.L.s , and they weren't ones to hold grudges, or so it seemed to Draco. Lupin had actually been a decent teacher and his wife, well he'd never met her, but Draco had heard that she was the apprentice of Mad-eye Moody so she had to have been quiet powerful.
Their burials had been public events; Snape's had been a private affair due to the flooding of people who wanted to make comments about him. Draco had attended none; he felt he had no right to be there. Had he tried to go he knew he wouldn't be wanted, or more likely he would be ignored by the large crowd.
His mind wandered off thinking about the fact that Fred had only been two years older than him, and in a flash he was gone. Something so quick, one moment there the next, not, and there was nothing to be done about it. No magic spell to bring him back, no way to go back and stop it. Just there and gone in an instant, and only people's memories of him to keep him alive.
He was so engrossed in his musing about this that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up on him. Draco was kicked back to reality when his chair was tipped some by a foot. Jumping to his feet he was quick to shout out.
"Look I don't want to do any bloody interviews. Can't you people just leave me the hell alone?!"
He paused though when he saw a curious young man with sandy brown hair cut to his ears and flipped out, staring at him with a raised brow. He was dressed in a short sleeved green Rugby shirt, relaxed jeans, and converse sneakers. Around his neck was a necklace made of dark rope and shells from which hung a small sand stone with a Chinese symbol. Draco stared at the young man, and sniffed some, trying to regain his composure.
"What…What do you want?"
"You're Draco Malfoy aren't you?" the young man asked. Draco stared at him, scared suddenly.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked in a soft voice. He knew there we're Death Eaters still at large that wanted to make the Malfoy's pay for their actions. Namely his mother; some had realized that she had lied about Potter being dead, others just wanted to punish them for getting off with house arrest rather than being sent to Azkaban. He didn't trust the boy; he didn't recognize him at all.
The boy gave him a slight half smile, his hazel eyes hinting at a laugh, and then chuckled, "You don't know me do you. Nasser Attwood, I'm a year behind you at Hogwarts."
"Nasser Attwood?"
The boy nodded and motioned over behind him to a small shop down the street. "A few of us are hanging out by the snack shop, if you'd like to join us."
"I'm not…" he looked at Nasser who was glancing over his shoulder at a stringy boy that Draco recognized, Theodore Nott.
"He's with you?" Draco asked and Nasser nodded.
"He's the one that saw you, well no, Elysia saw you."
"Who?"
Nasser lowered his brow, "My sister, Elysia, she's in Ravenclaw."
Draco had no idea who this girl was but he nodded his head slightly, just to comply and started to walk with Nasser back to the shop.
"How do you know Theodore?" Draco asked Nasser, who shrugged.
"He talked to me in my second year at Hogwarts."
Draco nodded not feeling up to having a polite conversation with the boy and followed him into the small snack shop. Theodore was standing by a table with about six or seven other people, ranging from first to sixth year; Draco and Theodore would have been the only seventh year there. Draco looked at them, and knew that they were from the outcast group that the Slytherins ignored.
Two boys, who were in their third year, glanced at Theodore and the taller of the two commented, "Theo, what's he doing here?"
"Yeah," said a girl with a long ponytail, "After all he's ...well, one of those."
Draco twitched, "One of those?"
She nodded, and he saw she couldn't be more then twelve. "Yeah one of those…you know the ones that ran out on Hogwarts."
He sneered at her, "I ran back in, you brat!"
"Draco," snapped Theodore as the others looked at him. "Nancy…he's not a Death Eater."
"Could have fooled me," said the tall boy, who was pushing black bangs from his eyes. Draco glared at him, turned on his heels and headed for the door. He didn't need this crap, especially coming from the likes of them. However a hand grasped onto his arm and he stopped. Theodore was holding him back and gave him a look that said, 'It would be stupid to leave now.'
"Algar, quit being rude to him, you ran out too," a pretty girl with long blonde hair commented. She was sitting next to Nasser and had the same hazel eyes as he did. She'd draped her ponytail over her right shoulder and was looking at the third year she had addressed.
"Yeah, but some of us ran back in."
"True." Nasser commented, "Right Theo?"
Theodore just nodded and pulled Draco back to the table and shoved him into a chair. He sat next to him and Draco looked at Theodore. He lowered his voice, "What's going on?"
Theodore shrugged some and said in a calm tone, "We're what's left of Slytherin."
Draco blinked and looked around the table. He counted heads a few more had joined them, and, including himself and Nott, there were a dozen students. He glanced at Theodore who again shrugged.
"Where did the others go?"
"Out of the country," Theodore said and shook his head. "Other relatives took them in, some refused to come back. They said that they would rather be on the run with their folks, or who knows what."
"But what does that mean?" Draco looked confused as Alger commented loudly.
"It means that we're the only ones who are going back, or are stupid enough to."
Nasser leaned back in his chair and looked over at Draco. "You don't know what happened do you?"
"Happened?" Draco shook his head. Nasser's smile reminded him of smirks he used to have in his fifth year.
"You know when all the Slytherins rose up to make some statement. I got up because I was worried about this one," he motioned to the girl on his side, who gave him a slight push. Draco figured this had to be Elysia, Nasser's sister, and nodded his head. Nasser sat up and continued.
"Well we got out there, and a bunch of us just stopped dead and looked at what was ahead of us. There were, what…thousands of Death Eaters standing there? And Giants and that crazy Grayback," Nasser stated and Draco flinched some at the mention of the Werewolf.
"So I looked at Michael," he motioned to a young man with short brown hair who raised his hand, "And said, 'You see what I see?' and he said, 'Yeah, a bunch of guys following some freak with no nose and red eyes.' And then we see all these seventh years rushing forward, except for Theodore who just sort of was lingering some, and I said to him, 'Hey Theo, you think this guy should get to say what we do for the rest of our life.' And I have to say Theo's a smart guy, he looks at me and I look at him and the group of us turned and ran back into the castle just when everything went to hell. We managed to find Aberforth Dumbledore and some other older Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and told them that Hogwarts was just as much our home as it was theirs and we wanted to keep it safe."
He smiled at his sister who puffed some proudly like a mother hen, "And who told you that at the start of the year?"
"Yeah, hush," Nasser said as Michael took over the story.
"So then we tried to help to fortify the place, and believe me we're being discriminated against. My own dad won't speak to me because I wound up putting my Uncle Benj in St. Mungo's."
"But it was worth it," Alger commented and Nancy nodded. "I mean, I would rather be considered a traitor to Voldemort, then to be considered a baby killer or something."
Draco stared at them, "So you snuck back in to help? You know what would have happened if you'd all been caught? He wouldn't have forgiven you, you're families would be…"
Draco stopped; he was feeling sick remembering what he'd seen Voldemort do and got up. "I've got to go Theodore. I should have been home an hour ago."
"We know what would have happened," Nasser said and looked at Draco. "But I'd rather have died fighting him then be subject to whatever he was going to do to our world. I mean, you can't tell me you liked what the Carrow's were making us do at the school."
Draco paused, "What the Carrow's did was nothing compared to what I saw okay. So don't go telling me about acting like heroes. You have no idea how he was, so you can sit there acting so smug and proud, but you can't even begin to understand what Voldemort could have done to you."
Elysia looked at him, "Yeah we do know. He did it to my mum."
Draco paused and got a better look at her. He swallowed some realizing that her face looked a lot like that of Charity Burbage and looked away as Theodore quietly said.
"The Muggle Studies Professor was her Aunt, her mum was there the night she was taken and they tortured her, left her for dead. A muggle neighbor heard the screaming and called the police. They found her in the parlor of the house, breathing, but barely."
Draco stood up and looked at her, "I…I'm sorry."
Elysia nodded some, she looked like she was trying to fix her hair but he could see she was trying to wipe her eyes. Nasser looked at him with a look of displeasure. Draco wasn't sure what to say and the silence weighed on him until the girl Nancy asked.
"Are you going back to Hogwarts?"
Draco shook his head, "I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Why?" Theodore asked and Draco shot him an exasperated look.
"Why? Why?! Think about it Theodore! I'd be a target! People know my family was part of the Death Eaters! People know I let in the Carrows and caused that fight sixth year! The Prophet had a field day with the trial, and who knows if there will be people wanting to get revenge!"
"I don't think they will," commented Elysia and Draco shot her a dirty look.
"And what makes you so sure?! Like you know anything about this?!"
She raised her head, "What? And you think you know? Yes people are still upset, but the people you would really have to worry about aren't going to be there, the Slytherins aren't going to be there!"
"So what?! The other houses will, and they won't forgive me," Draco pointed out. "Not after…not after what I did, not after what I've seen. And I can't bloody blame them, so no, I won't be going back! And if you were smart then you wouldn't be going back."
"We don't have anything to be afraid of," pointed out Alger.
Draco gripped his wand, tightly. "Are you calling me a coward?"
"Well that's one way of putting it."
Draco had his wand out fast and was holding it to Alger, but Michael aimed his at Draco and scowled. "We didn't ask you here to have a fight."
"Don't call me a COWARD!" Draco shouted at Alger. His eyes were lighted with anger, frustration and pain. Flashes of running through the woods with Snape crossed into his mind, and what Snape had shouted at Potter. The man had tried to protect him for his mother, had given his life to protect Potter, had done all that because of Potter's Muggle mother. He didn't understand it, how could a man like Snape feel that intense a feeling for the woman? Would Potter have called him that if he had known the truth? What really was a coward?
He thought of his mother just then, she'd lied to protect him, rushing through the castle looking for him, calling to him. She'd not cared that she looked a mess when she found him, not cared that he was like a child sobbing in fear in her arms. Not like Potter, not like his friends, fighting down there. He had no wand, how could he have fought, but these people, younger then him in some cases, had snuck back to fight and protect the school that they loved.
He lowered his wand and headed out the door. Draco heard footsteps behind him and looked back to see Theodore coming after him.
"I'm not going back in there," Draco told him bluntly.
"You don't have to. Look I'll walk with you home, we can talk."
Draco shrugged, he would have rather gone alone, but at the same time company would be nice. He gave a nod and Theodore told him he'd be out in a minute. Draco watched him walk back in and heard some raised voices. He didn't care; they were treating him just as he'd treated them.
'We don't have anything to be afraid of;' Alger's words came back and gave him a chill. Why was he afraid? Potter had testified in his favor; forgiven him in a way, though they hadn't talked, at least not yet. His mother had said that it would be a good idea, at some point, to at least acknowledge that Potter had done him some good. He didn't want to be best friends with him, but she was right; were it not for Potter, not for the fact his flying skills were as great as they were, he would have been nothing but ash.
Draco leaned against a shop window, recalling the nightmares that now kept him up frequently. Moments when he was forced to torture people, moments when the Cruciatus curse was used on him when he refused to kill, flitted through his head, when he felt something brush his forehead and he snapped his eyes open to defend himself. Draco was surprised to not see what he feared, a Death Eater or worse Lord Voldemort before him, but rather Elysia Attwood.
She gazed at him with a slightly perplexed look and lowered her hand. Draco looked as she stepped back.
"Theo said you were out here waiting."
"Yeah," he gulped. Why did she have to do that? He was going to have to get used to the idea that Voldemort wasn't going to come out of nowhere and attack him. But still, Voldemort had managed to live through his first attack, the second he seemed to be good and dead, but he'd come back before and Draco was scared he'd do it again, and come to kill him and his family. "What did you want?"
"To talk," she said. He scowled, what could she have to say to him? He really didn't want to hear about how much of an ass he acted in there, but he nodded expecting something annoying to come out. Instead she asked, not moving her eyes from his "Was her death painful?"
Draco felt his body clench. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about, the last thing he wanted to remember. He looked away from her.
"Don't…Look I really don't want to talk about it okay. I've had to recount it too many times. Testify against others placing them there. I…I don't like thinking about it."
Elysia nodded some, "Dad met with Minster Shacklebolt, and he said that you were there when it happened."
He kept his eyes averted cursing Theodore for not hurrying up. Elysia tilted her head to meet his eyes again and Draco turned fast to avoid her. "Yeah I was. Like I said I really don't want to talk about it."
"I don't want details," she said quietly. "I just…I want to know if he did it fast."
Draco paused and nodded, then saw Theodore coming out. He relaxed some and looked at her. "I have to go."
She nodded as he got up, and was surprised some when her hand brushed his and gave it a small squeeze. Draco stopped puzzled by her action as she wasn't looking at him.
"There wasn't anything you could have done, it wasn't your fault that she got captured, I don't blame you Draco."
She let go then and walked past him and past Theodore who gave her a small smile. Draco saw for a second on Nott's face a small blush but it vanished quickly. He walked over and Theodore motioned with his head that he was ready to go.
"We're going to have to apparate on the road, the Ministry put up a shield around our house, so you can only get near the grounds by walking. And they cut off the floo network, with a few exceptions." Draco explained as he and Theodore headed away from the Leaky Cauldron, it would be easier to disapparate where there were fewer patrons. Theodore nodded understanding and walked along side Draco, his eyes shifting to the taller boy.
"What exceptions?"
"Ministry officials," Draco offered not wanting to explain about the law enforcement wizards that frequented his home. They were making sure the Malfoy's were following the rules of their house arrest. He disliked the smug faces of a few of them; a couple of the officers were actually sympatric in a way. They would listen to his mother and make assurances that when the time was up she could go freely around the city. Draco thought that she probably wouldn't want to though. Not after everything.
Theodore furrowed his brows as they walked, and Draco looked at him. For a moment he felt a small semblance of a smile come on his face, and then shook it off. "What are you thinking Nott? You're not planning on trying to break into the Ministry's floo network to come visit me."
Theodore shook his head, and Draco sighed, he didn't blame Theodore. His father had been captured and was now spending time in Azkaban. Theodore's mother was on 'vacation' as he'd said in his letter, which told Draco that she was probably recovering from a breakdown at St. Mungo's. Theodore was staying with his mother's brother.
"So what then?" Draco asked curiously.
"I was just thinking…we're the last of the Slytherins in our year."
"Yeah," Draco commented, "So?"
"So, this is our chance to actually prove that we're not all like Voldemort."
"And how do you contend to do that?" Draco asked raising one of his fine eyebrows.
"Don't know yet, I'm thinking about it." Theodore said as he and Draco both disapparated. Moments later after flying through the darkness a road materialized and both young men stood still reorienting themselves. Draco started to walk first and he asked aloud.
"What do you know about Nasser and his sister?"
"The twins, why?" Theodore questioned. "They're not bad."
"They're curious aren't they, though," he said pointedly. "Nasser's a Slytherin."
"And Elysia's a Ravenclaw," Theodore pointed out. He shrugged some. "She said she wanted to go there and the hat let her."
"It let her?" Draco asked a bit mystified. "How could it let her?
Theodore shrugged, "Don't know, all she said was that she actually asked it to and it let her choose Ravenclaw over Slytherin. So that's where she went."
"You seem to know them well," Draco said stopping by a narrow lane that lead to the house. Theodore paused and gave Draco a look.
"What are you insinuating Draco?"
"Nothing, I just want to know why you know a sixth year so well," Draco shrugged and Theodore just looked at him. Draco waited as Theodore weighed his choices then said simply.
"Because I chose to get to know him, that's all there was to it."
"And it had nothing to do with the sister?"
Theodore paused and thought this over, "Not really, no; she's good looking, yes, but Nasser's more cunning then he appears. I got to know him because he has a good mind for plotting things. He's quick to figure out ways of getting out of trouble. He's the one that came up with the idea of using the first-years entrance to get back into the castle."
Draco crossed his arms, "Using the first–years entrance? You'd have to swim."
"That's what we did, but you'd be surprised at how many people don't want to touch that lake water."
"Not with the merpeople down there," muttered Draco leading Theodore up the gravel lane to his home.
"It's not like he's my best friend Draco. But he's someone good to have on your side. He knows how to manage things pretty well, and for an almost seventh year he's ahead of most. He's already trying to find ways to earn some extra money to repair damage to the Slytherin common room."
"Damage?" scowled Draco. "What sort of damage?"
"The kind that Dark magic creates," Theodore said with an annoyed look. "Some of the Death Eaters with Grayback got down there and were looting the place and wrecking it. I guess it happened when they knew they were losing and had to retreat. Nasser went down there while everyone was having the celebration. The way he put it, it's lucky that anything is still standing. Someone was angry and wanted to show, I guess, to the group of us that stayed, that we weren't welcome back there or something."
Draco sighed. "Well, not like I'm going back so…good luck to him, then."
Theodore shook his head, "You should Draco."
"What for? To be humiliated, to be treated like a dog, I don't think so, Theodore." Draco snapped as they crunched down the path to the wrought iron gate flanked by two yew hedges. Draco waved his wand and the gates opened for him, allowing both boys to enter the grounds. Albino peacocks strutted around the vast manicured lawn. Vestiges of his family's wealth, or what remained of it, lay in the neat gardens where once he and Theodore chatted while their fathers conversed in the house. It seemed so long ago to Draco, even though it had only been four years.
The front door opened of it's own accord and he walked in with Theodore saying, "I just think that having you come back might show that there are higher up Slytherins that want to return. That we all weren't working for Vold…"
"I WAS working for him," spat Draco angrily. "I was working for him, Theodore, and people know it. Do I regret it, yes! But I'm not going back there begging to be forgiven. I don't need that Theodore, and neither do you."
"I'm not going there to beg anyone," Theodore said heatedly. "I'm going back to pass my damn N.E.W.T.S so that I can have something to help me get a job to help my mum, Draco. Or have you forgotten that not all of us have your vast fortune to live on."
"You want it, take it," hissed Draco as he walked into the drawing room and sat down on the couch. They hadn't bothered getting a new house elf since Dobby left, so it was up to a hired witch to help them. Mostly though the Malfoy's used their magic to summon things, and Draco had learned how to quickly summon the tea set.
Theodore sat down opposite him, and shook his head when offered a cup. Draco leaned back in the plush Victorian couch and scowled. "I'm not going back Theodore. There is no way."
Theodore paused and stared at him, "Potter's going back."
"So what," Draco said and sipped the tea in a quick gulp. He didn't want to think of Harry Potter. He already owed him and Ron Weasley for saving his life, and Draco knew that in time he would have to repay it. He prayed that it wouldn't be in the same manner that Wormtail had repaid his apparent debt. Draco shuddered recalling how the snake had eaten the small man and left only his big toe.
Memories of events in the house came into his mind and he waved his wand at a large wizard wireless radio to get some music, any music, just for some noise so he didn't have to hear the screams in his head. Draco had begged his mother to get rid of the chair that Hermione Granger had been tortured in as he kept seeing an image of her sitting there screaming every time he walked by. She had finally done it the day that he threatened to set it on fire.
Draco looked at Theodore who was staring at him and it made Draco scowl deeply.
"What you think I'm a coward like they were saying? You think I'm afraid of Potter? I'm not!"
"I didn't say that," Theodore said with a shrug. "You're the one that keeps saying things about being afraid and being a coward, Draco, not me. All I'm saying is that it would say a lot to the other houses if you came back to school. I don't think it'll be like a normal year."
"How would it be different?"
Theodore ticked off his fingers as he spoke, "For one thing, there's not going to be a lot of people going back. I don't see all the old seventh years coming to take their last tests after what happened. I'm sure a lot of them can get good jobs without N.E.W.T.S. Second, it'll probably just be teachers that need to go over lessons with us for the tests and a lot of independent study no doubt. Third, I think it would be good for you to go back and at least to face Potter."
"Why should I though?" Draco coolly pointed out. Theodore shrugged and smirked.
"Why not? What good is it going to do you sitting here thinking about what happened? You said yourself in your last letter to me that this place is driving you mad."
Draco sniffed and drank back more tea. "And you think Hogwarts is going to be different?"
Theodore nodded.
"Why? Because I didn't do things there that I did here?"
"No because there you have something of a diversion. Here, you have none." Theodore noted. Draco leaned back. Nott was right in that the house was driving him a bit mad. His nightmares were becoming worse, and there were several occasions when he woke up in cold sweat screaming for his mother. At the house, she was there to come and calm him down; there he wouldn't have that option. Draco wondered if nightmares were what kept the Potions professor up at night. If it was, then Draco didn't blame him for looking so haggard at times.
He looked at Theodore, and sipped his tea, "I'll think about it okay. I'm not promising, but I'll think about it."
Theodore nodded, pleased at least that he was able to secure at least one person he'd thought of as a friend to come with him back.
Theodore left in the afternoon after lunch. Lucius was his normal engaging self, asking Theodore about his mother and how she was copping. His replies were polite, quick and thoughtful, keeping the older Malfoy at bay most of the time, and not really giving any in depth information to them. Narcissa told Theodore to bring his mother some of the expensive cookies that had been sent by a friend to her, and he had respectfully accepted.
"Can you get back on your own?" Draco asked as he walked him to the gate and opened it for Theodore.
"Yeah I can manage. Just get out near the crossroads and apperate home."
Draco nodded and observed Theodore head out down the narrow lane. He watched until Theodore was out of sight. The sun was starting to set and Draco happened to glance at his arm. The mark had vanished but a scar remained a remnant of his time as a Death Eater. Draco constantly found ways to cover it up, not wanting to see the tarnished mark on his pale skin. It looked like the remained of some sort of skin disease.
Walking back into the house, he saw his parents sitting on the couch, holding one another. His father had his arm behind his mother's neck and was stroking her hair. Neither was speaking as his mother rested her head on his father's shoulder. Had it been another year or another time, the scene would have seemed sweet. To Draco though it was a harsh reminder of the weary toll on his parents; he could see the lines on his father's face, and the slight puffiness to his mother's eyes. He wanted desperately to find some way to gain their forgiveness, but both had said that they were not angry at him, and that there was nothing to forgive.
"He's gone now Draco," Narcissa had told him the day after the battle, "we're just glad you're safe. I was so scared. I love you Draco, I don't want anything to happen to you."
His father had, in his own words, expressed the same thing. That was why he'd given himself up, to of all people Arthur Weasley. Draco had never seen his father so humble, but at the same time he felt a bit proud. Lucius didn't beg, or plead to be spared; he just stated that he was willing to be the first taken in, and to assist in whatever way he could, so long as Draco and Narcissa were given leniency by the Ministry for their actions.
Draco watched them now, and saw how much they had sacrificed to keep him safe and secure. He wondered if it wasn't for his mother and father, would he have ended up like Crabbe. The thought gave his stomach a twist and he silently slipped off upstairs to his room. Shutting the door he went to the dresser where Pansy's letter sat.
Draco picked it up and opened it again. Her hand writing was as neat as ever. Small tight letters for smaller words that gave him very little in the way of comfort, her mind was still set on seeing the Death Eaters as the victims, and not the other way around. He thought of what Nasser had said, about not wanting to let someone decide his future.
Come visit me, she asked. I'm sure you can use time away from your parents. Visit her? After her comments in earlier letters about his father being weak and that he shouldn't have given up so easily. Visit her, after she had instigated the walk out and had probably caused the death of students their age who had no idea what they were getting into?
Draco glanced at the letter, her words of love meant very little to him now. She didn't understand how much his parents had given up for him, she never would. He closed his eyes, and rolled up the letter. Walking over to the fireplace he flicked his wand, starting a small fire, and prodded it till he felt it was large enough.
He'd write her one more letter, it wouldn't be nice. He'd tell her that he didn't want to see her anymore, that she could never understand what he went through, or what his parents were going through. If she was really his friend she would understand that he'd changed his way thinking of the Dark Arts, and what they meant. That he didn't want to associate with Voldemort, or the Death Eaters. That he just wanted to drop the past, and if she couldn't then he didn't want to associate with her. He'd ask her not to write again, and if she kept sending the letters, he'd just keep burning them till she got the message.
Draco tossed the paper into the fire place and watched it go up in smoke. He absentmindedly rubbed his scar and blinked back tears. Everything was different now; he couldn't look back on fond memories, because there really wasn't any. He wished, somehow, he could burn the mark off his arm, like he burned Pansy's letter, and destroy the very thing that had originally indicated his future.