Author's Note: Many thanks to my marvelous team.
Written for...
Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Team/Position: Holyhead Harpies, Seeker. Task: Golden Snitch: Write about a witch or wizard displaying undying loyalty to someone.
A Fresh Start
1,037 words
The Manor had never been so quiet before, and it scared Draco more than anything ever had. He had spent plenty of nights alone there when his parents were traveling or off at one of their numerous social functions. But it never felt like this. Cold, empty.
He could hear someone moving downstairs and instinctively knew it was his father – no, Lucius. He'd decided at the start of the trials that he would never associate with Lucius Malfoy again. He was making good on that promise now, packing his suitcase with the few belongings he cared to keep.
A chill went through him as he sifted through piles of meaningless books and magazines to find a small photograph buried beneath it all, one taken on Draco's fifth birthday of himself with his mother.
"Please, don't go," Narcissa begged now, coming into his room unannounced. Draco couldn't bear to look at her.
He slid the photograph in his pocket and continued packing, shoving clothes into the case by hand. It gave him time to think.
"We can make this work."
He glared at her. Pulling his wand out, he cast a silencing charm over the room.
"How can you defend him?" he demanded. "That man ruined our lives."
Narcissa flinched, but she didn't retreat. She stood her ground and reached out a hand to brush a few strands of Draco's hair from his eyes. He pulled away from the touch.
"He's my husband, Draco. I love him."
"He almost got us killed. He doesn't love us."
"He does, in his own way."
Draco scoffed and returned to packing. Where would he go? He'd made no plans, so sure that the Wizengamot would find Lucius guilty and throw him in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable life. A full pardon had been the furthest outcome from his mind, but nevertheless it was now a reality.
"I know he's made mistakes," his mother continued quietly. "But we all have. Don't you think he deserves a second chance as well?"
Draco glanced down at the tattoo peeking out from his long sleeve. The sight of it made him sick to his stomach. He had tried more than once to conceal it and remove it, but no spells worked. He hated himself for the role he had played in the war. It the darkest moments, when the world had learned the truth about the Malfoy family, Narcissa had been the one to sit for hours with Draco in his darkened room and somehow convince him that he deserved a second chance.
He wasn't so sure Lucius could be granted the same.
"I can't stand to be in the same room as him," he admitted. He closed his suitcase and rested his hands on it, steadying himself. He had no idea what he was doing. He'd never left home – never imagined he would have to. The Manor was meant to be his one day.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"I will always love you, no matter where you go or what you do. And so will he, whether or not you believe it."
"I don't know what I'm going to do." He turned to his mother, wishing all of their problems could somehow disappear and it would only be the two of them.
Narcissa smiled and removed a ring from her right hand. It was simple; a gold band and a small aquamarine stone. She'd worn it for as long as Draco remembered, though he never knew why. It seemed unextraordinary next to her more expensive jewelry.
"For now, my place is here, with Lucius. I need to try and make this work. But I understand your need to leave." She pushed the ring into his hand. "I've reconnected with my sister, Andromeda, during these past few months. She's in dire need of help right now, Draco, widowed and raising an infant. I beg you, go to her."
Draco's brow furrowed at the request. "Mother? I don't even know the woman-"
"She'll know you. Give her the ring, it was once a gift from her. She'll take you in and make sure you're looked after. It will be good for you both."
He wanted to refuse, but he knew better than to argue with his mother. At the very least, it would give him some time to work out where he would go next.
:-:
Ring grasped tightly in his hand, Draco apparated to his aunt's doorstep and knocked three times.
He wasn't sure what to expect from the woman his family had spoken so badly of for so many years, but he certainly wasn't expecting her to be serving tea to Harry Potter.
"Your mother sent an owl," the older witch told him brusquely, ushering him into the sitting room without even glancing at the ring. "Sit. I'll fetch some biscuits."
She didn't try to make introductions, which was just as well. Draco stood awkwardly in the doorway, still holding the ring in one hand and his suitcase in the other, staring down at the Auror.
"If I'd known you were coming, I would have left," Potter said, though he made effort to get up from the carpet, where he lay with a blue-haired baby.
"What are you doing here?" Draco squeaked out.
Potter nodded down at the baby. "My godson. I visit often."
Draco rolled his eyes and finally moved into the room, collapsing onto the sofa. "Lovely. I thought we were finally free of each other."
Andromeda returned with a plate of biscuits and set them down on the table in front of Draco, then looked between the men, seeming to sense the tension.
"I won't have any arguments in my house," she warned. "Teddy doesn't need to hear about your problems."
Potter nodded once, smiling fondly at the baby. "Yes, Andie."
Draco said nothing. He grabbed a biscuit and nibbled on it quietly, assessing the situation as his aunt and former rival carried on a conversation as if he weren't there.
It was strange, he decided. The house was smaller than he was used to, and brighter, but it was warm. And it certainly wasn't quiet. But it might be something he could get used to.