A Wand for Life

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the canon characters therein.

Walking through an iron wrought fence, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, took a deep breath. He didn't understand why he was so nervous. Then again, this was Malfoy Manor. He had been hated all his life by the patriarch and the son wasn't so fond of him either. So why was he there? Harry had to remind himself repeatedly that he had to return Draco Malfoy's wand. With the entire Malfoy family acquitted from all charges put against them by the Wizengamot, mostly thanks to the help of Harry himself, Draco would need his wand back. Harry was more than willing to give it back to him, or so he thought.

Several weeks ago when he had owled the Malfoy family, Harry had thought it was a great idea; this way maybe he and Draco could get a new start. Now Draco didn't have his father breathing down his neck to join the Death Eaters and Harry didn't have to wonder if the Slytherin boy was a Death Eater. But, as soon as he told Hermione and Ron, his thoughts changed.

Hermione had remained silent while Ron ranted about how 'Malfoy is a slimy git; a right evil bastard.' When his friend had finally finished his row, Hermione spoke up with a low voice telling him how it probably wasn't a good idea but she would support him if he felt he needed to do it. Hermione had always been the type to warn him about his decisions but support them if she felt he needed to do it. That was one thing he had always like about his other best friend. Ron sulked in a chair after this, not willing to argue with his girlfriend.

Walking towards the imposing manor now, Harry felt that he should have listened to his friends. His mouth became dry and it became hard to swallow. Narcissa Malfoy had been the one to owl him back several days after he had sent his new owl out. It was a lovely coloured barn owl with the typical heart-shaped face. She couldn't quite replace Hedwig, but Venus, as he had finally chosen a name after weeks of contemplating, was a good-natured bird that he was quickly growing attached to.

He looked up and bit back a gasp. The building looked so powerful and imposing. Harry didn't remember much from his brief visit during the war. Unfortunately he had been too busy worry about being found out and sent to Voldemort to pay attention to the tall, pointed towers and impressive pillared entrance. Coming to a door, the young wizard took another deep breath and knocked loudly on the door. The echoes from his knock resounded throughout the house and suddenly there was the sound of scurrying feet all over the house. The door in front of him slowly swung open, emitting a low creaking noise as if the door's hinges had not been properly oiled in ages.

Stepping into the manor and onto the stone floor, Harry noticed a hunched over figure holding the door open. It looked to be a small, female house elf. She seemed vaguely familiar but the boy couldn't place where he had seen her before, if he had seen her at all of course. As he stepped further into the mansion he gasped. The interior was wonderfully decorated with tapestries and whispering portraits that could only be passed as Malfoy ancestors. There were exquisite carvings on either side of a tall and wide marble fireplace that had a rather small in comparison fire flickering in it. Harry was astounded by the beauty and couldn't believe how a place that had held countless Death Eaters could come out of such a war so undamaged and so mesmerizing. Movement behind him reminded the wizard of where he actually was. He turned back to the small house elf and said in a soft voice,

'Thank you.' Those two words were enough to light up the elf's eyes and cause a smile to form. It was almost as if Harry had fulfilled the little elf girl's every dream, though he didn't know how that was possible. She bowed low while attempting to keep the pillow case that had been modeled after a dress from falling too low on her body before she spoke.

'Mr. Harry Potter need not thank Dalia. Dalia is honoured to serve the Boy-Who-Lived. She has heard great things about the wizard who triumphed against the Dark Arts.' Her voice was quiet and Harry had to almost strain to hear what she was saying. Part of the reason her voice sounded so quiet was the tone; her voice distinctly reminded Harry of a warm day on the beach with the sun shining and the wind blowing a light breeze over a field of flowers. 'Mr. Harry Potter, my mistress is this way.' Dalia almost sighed before turning and almost dancing off. She had lightness in her gait that Harry couldn't recall seeing in any other house elf he had met, and he liked to think he had met a great many house elves after his ventures into the Hogwarts kitchen.

Harry gripped the plain wooden box he had in his hands tightly and set his mouth into a firm but grim line. This was it. He would see the three people he had help set free for the first time since their trial. That had been about a year ago. Harry had been too busy with Auror training to really worry about how he stood with the Malfoys. He had only been at it for a year, since the trial he supposed. After the Second Wizarding War, the Chosen One, as he had been called, had been hounded by the press and asked to speak for or against certain people during the great many trials in the year or so following the war. Of course, the one trial he hadn't been asked to witness for was the Malfoy trial. That one had been decided under his own power with no offers of money or fame. He didn't need either money or any more fame, in fact, he wanted less fame. Always smiling and being on your best behavior could really wear a person down. Since the Malfoy trial he had somehow found an escape in his Auror training. The work was difficult and exhausting, but Harry found that it was exactly what he needed to get by. He had become a bit restless since he wasn't constantly battling the Dark Arts or trying to find the odd horcrux here and there. Now, however, he very much worried how Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco would take his intruding on their home. He didn't have any more time to worry though.

Flashes of brief memory entered and left Harry's mind. He was having minor flashbacks to the small fray that had happened here. It didn't help that Dalia seemed to be leading him directly to the room where the skirmish had taken place. The marble steps had turned into highly polished dark wood flooring. It gleamed in the candlelight as the small flames flickered along the still highly decorated wall. It occurred to Harry then that all of Draco's boasts back in school hadn't really been unfounded. He certainly lived in extravagance that opened the door to having a slightly pompous attitude, though Draco had gone too far on most occasions.

Dalia, small though she was, managed to open a set of heaving oak doors to the room where they had been questioned, Hermione had been tortured, and they had fought, losing Dobby moments later. Sadness crept up on the dark-haired wizard as he fondly remembered his friend who had died saving him and his other friends' lives from the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. But now was not a time to think of that; Harry visited Dobby's grave every few months to make sure it was still well kept up. Bill and Fleur Weasley watched over the grave, at least for the time being. Harry knew that they were planning on moving to a larger home within the next few years and the young wizard had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why.

Barely hesitating, Harry entered the room and tried not to flinch. Though the furniture was rearranged and the previous wall hangings were removed and replaced with considerably brighter decoration, Harry would always remember what had happened here. It wasn't really a site that one forgot. As his eyes skittered about the room, they finally landed upon the only three other people in the room. Dalia had slipped out and closed the doors without the boy's realizing of it and Harry now felt very alone.

Narcissa Malfoy was sitting in a surprisingly modest black wooded chair in front of the massive fireplace that was held up by magnificently carved pillars. Draco Malfoy was standing by his mother's right hand and slightly back while Lucius was standing behind the chair, almost as if to hide from Harry. Both Narcissa and Draco looked solemn and guarded. Lucius on the other hand couldn't really be seen so his facial expression was left to be discovered. None of them knew exactly why the great Harry Potter was there. He had simply written them saying that he wished to meet with them. All four people in the room remained quiet for a few minutes.

While waiting for someone to speak, Draco took the time to look over the wizard who was, essentially, his savior. Since the trial a year ago Draco had taken the time to really think about what Harry had sacrificed over the years. He hadn't known the tenderness of a family, or at least the love of a mother, and had, since the time of his entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had been tried time and time again without any provocation that Draco could think of. Essentially, the blonde boy had realized that he had been a real prick to Harry Potter all through school and he really didn't deserve the kindness that had been given to him when freed, thanks again, to Harry Potter. And, now that he was standing in his house, in the very spot his flesh and blood had attacked and tortured his friends, Draco felt dirty.

Harry was also regarding the boy who had been his Slytherin rival. The boy looked haunted and hurt; scared and gaunt. Apparently things hadn't turned all the way around for what was left of the Malfoy family which, oddly enough, saddened Harry. He suddenly had a strong urge to get to know Draco, and even Narcissa, though Lucius was beyond his ability to care about. That thought in mind, he gave a timid smile which was also tentatively returned by Narcissa while Draco seemed rooted to his spot, his expression glued to his face.

"Hello, Mr. Potter—" Narcissa began lightly before being interrupted by Harry almost immediately.

"Um, Harry will do. I think we are past all those formalities, Narcissa." All the woman could do was nod in surprise, her lips pursing for a moment.

"Well then, H-harry. What do we owe this honor?" It was said without malice or a sneer, unlike all the times Harry had heard similar phrases at school. It was a nice change.

"I came to, uh, return something. I know it's been a while and you've probably replaced it, but I feel like this should be returned to you, Draco." Harry began his explanation addressing all the Malfoys but ended in directly talking to the boy in question. Draco's face finally broke then, hesitant curiosity taking the place of the frightened look he had had on previously.

The dark-haired wizard made his way over to the light-haired wizard. He nodded to Narcissa and handed the box he had been clutching onto for dear life over to Draco. Draco deftly took the slender box from Harry's hands, glanced at his mother, and slowly opened the lid of the hinged box. A quiet gasp was emitted from the boy's lips before he spoke the only words that Harry had heard from him.

"My wand!"

X.x.X

There was silence after the small outburst from Draco. Everyone, and that included Harry, was surprised at the gift and reaction. Lucius Malfoy had left his little shadow hide-away to see what Harry Potter could possibly give a Malfoy. Narcissa had stood up from her chair, looked at the wand and then to Harry. Draco was still staring at his wand and several emotions played across his normally stoic face. There was surprise, anger, confusion, among others. Finally, it seemed a surprising emotion won out: disgust.

The box was snapped shut with a 'clap', nearly closing Draco's fingers in with his wand as he ran his fingers over it for the first time in a couple of years. The disgust was replaced by a calm persona as the blonde boy handed the box back to Harry who was severely confused about what was happening. Numbly, the dark-haired wizard opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Draco's hand in the air, signaling him not to say a word.

"I don't need that wand. It's no longer mine. Please leave." That was all Draco said before turning on his heals and walking out of the room from a door Harry previously hadn't noticed. His mind was shutting down. Malfoy didn't want his wand back? Harry had always believed that the Slytherin boy was rather possessive of his things. His thoughts were stopped by the sudden movement of Narcissa, who was calling Dalia to lead Harry out. Before he could protest, however, Narcissa said,

"It is best to leave things alone for now. When he gets like this it may take him weeks to get over things. I tried to shield him when I could during the war, but he is tortured from the things he has seen and been forced to do, Harry. Please, forgive him." Then the door was shut and Dalia was pulling at Harry's pants leg.

"Mr. Harry Potter, Sir. You must leave now. My mistress wishes it. Dalia wishes to see Mr. Harry Potter again soon, though, Sir." For such a small elf Dalia was strong. She had forcibly led Harry down the stairs and to the doors without him realizing it. The door opened and he was almost out of it when he thought of something. He stopped and turned around to face the house elf who was still smiling.

"Um, Dalia, you didn't happen to know Dobby the house elf while he was still here, did you?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Dalia did, Sir. Dobby was Dalia's father." Harry's face fell as a sad smile pulled at the elf girl's lips as the door shut her into Malfoy Manor. Shocked in more ways than one, Harry travelled down the path he had taken up to the manor almost numb. He didn't pay attention to where he was going and only when he reached a point where he didn't feel any wards did he apparate away back to his flat, confused and alone.

X.x.X

So, this is my second attempt at Drarry, though this one is going to be an actual full-chaptered story versus a one-shot like my other one Sabotage. Please R&R! Thank you!