Vonne: Please tae note that this chapter, and several of the following chapters, take place after the first chapter. Or, so to say, in the 'past'. Remember if you get confused, I'd be happy to help you out with anything. Just let me know. Anyways, thank you a bunch for all the reviews I got on the first chapter. I really appreciate that you have an interest for what's to come.
Chapter Two
The Boy Who Lived
Five Months Earlier
Narcissa Malfoy looked undoubtedly radiant that night. She was staring nervously in the eyes of her mirror's reflection as she slipped one of her diamond earrings through her ear and inhaled. It had been a while since the battle at Hogwarts, but every outing for the Malfoy's only made it seem as if it had happened yesterday. Her nervousness was evident and her chest heaved up and down underneath her elegant dress. She glittered in the candle light that sat glowing on the night stand and, taking one more anxious breath, she let her arms drop, fully analyzing herself for the first time. There was absolutely no doubt that Narcissa truly was a beautiful woman. Her white blonde hair was pinned back neatly and her captivatingly cold eyes were narrow to the point of appearing permanently seductive. She chewed her bottom lip and tilted her head cautiously to one side. In the candlelight, there was no doubt that she was every woman's envy and every man's fantasy, but she had lost the pride that came with it. Looking herself over, she wondered when, exactly, she'd actually could care less.
True, her focus had been taken off her appearance, and it had been for quite some time. And maybe it was because she'd just now found herself to be absolutely lucky. She'd kept her family alive and now, after it all, she could finally breathe. Or, at least, she'd expected to. She stayed put in front of the mirror and then, breaking her dazed glare, there came a quiet knock at the door. "Narcissa," came the voice of her husband, quite quiet. He said, knocking silently again, "are you ready to go?"
Narcissa blinked, almost stunned to be shocked out of her trance. "Y-yes, darling," she said, shaking her head and stepping back from the mirror. "In a minute." However, even from her newly farther spot away from the mirror, she stopped for a second look. On the other end of the door, Lucius Malfoy shifted his weight. What, of all things, did he expect?
He said with a sigh, "I'll be out front when you're ready," she let his prepared posture sink. He'd begun his way back down the long hallway when Narcissa's calling voice stopped him once again.
She said slowly, "is Draco ready?" And Lucius spun around hastily.
"Yes, dear," he lied and made his way back down the hall. Truth be told, he wasn't exactly sure where his son had been in the first place and, to be quite honest, he didn't know if he really wanted to know. As he made his way down the grand staircase, he couldn't help but shake his head. He hadn't been quite sure about his son for a while now; this current uncertainty hadn't been too out of the ordinary. Passing down the stairs, he happened to catch his own reflection. He was a hardened man, an attribute that had always truly defined him. His blond hair tumbled past his shoulders and his fingers wrapped cautiously around the head of his walking stick, one of his most prized possessions. The green eyes of the snake flashed in the glass and, much to his own shame, he reeled back in sudden fear of it. However, once his heart had stopped beating, he shook his head at his own foolishness. What had he left to fear but his own stupidity now? A flash of anger bubbled in his chest and he resisted the urge to call out for his missing son.
Lucius' foot reached the bottom floor and he strode out to the front door, whisking it open quietly. The front yard of the Manor was unquestionably beautiful, but it wasn't the scenery that his cold eyes scanned. He looked, rather unsuccessfully, for his son. It had been his own idea to partake in a family outing and both Draco and Narcissa hadn't said much about the matter. Though he'd half wished they'd have at least attempted to talk him out of it. Though it wasn't like Lucius Malfoy to go back on his original plans and, as he stood waiting for his flaky family, he'd been, as it so seemed, as ready as he'd ever be.
Something in the distance caught Lucius' searching eye and, without any sudden movement, he watched the shadow of his sun, blinding even under the dark of the tree. Under the blinding sun, Draco continued to sit, his legs sprawled out in front of him, and his focus fixated on a book he wasn't actually reading. In appearances, Draco Malfoy's resemblance to his parents was uncanny; his blond hair shone out bright and his features were sharp. Although his eyes were half shut, under his eyelids, his eyes were forever cold and judging. What Draco was truly doing was nothing in particular rather than sitting, a habit that was just beginning to annoy his father. Although, his focus wasn't truly on his father, anymore. And although his selfishness wasn't newfound, it had taken on quite a new meaning. Before he'd relied on his own personal gain and, whatever he had cared about now, he knew any hope towards gaining anything would be almost inevitably impossible.
But even Draco himself wasn't quite sure what his new demeanor had revolved around and, siting up against the large tree, he wondered if he'd ever truly know. Honestly, he hadn't been quite sure about anything over the past couple years of his life. What an odd feeling it was to finally realize all previous beliefs had been nothing but a blatant lie. His eyes stared unblinking at the gorgeous scenery that was his front yard. Not even the pure white peacock that strutted by could break his hardened glare.
Behind him came the crunch of gravel and he turned around sharply and he stood at the view of his advancing parents. They walked towards him arm in arm, looking straight and confident. But not even Malfoy could fake this stance. His stood up straight, dropping his book, and gave a slight nod to his parents as they passed. Silently, Lucius said nervously, "come along, Draco." Their tall son obliged; he bent back down swiftly to yank his book back up from the dewy ground and took his place behind the two. His heart pounded and he tried to mask the butterflies in his stomach. People had wondered, only wondered, what had become of the Malfoys and now it was their time to find out.
The Malfoys, they'd soon see, were alive and thriving, stone-faced and blank as a slate. They'd only narrowly avoided imprisonment in Azkaban and they'd been aware that this wasn't due to popular demand. They'd received death threats and letters of blackmail but they'd managed to keep their backbones. And, after five full years since the battle, they still couldn't find the time to rest. Draco Mafloy wondered silently if they'd truly deserved it. When they neared Hogsmade, Draco buried his face into the pages of his book.
Hogsmeade had been as busy as always, though there was an odd feeling in the air as the Malfoy's made their way through. They passed the whispering crowd with their heads down and when they'd found a vacant tree, Malfoy's heart soared. He could have ran up to it if it weren't for his own self control. Someone said, "yeah, keep walking," and Draco's grip on the edges of his book further tightened. At the edge of the tree, Narcissa said with a sigh, "well, that wasn't so horrible."
But both the men at her side didn't say a word and she nodded knowingly. After a while, Lucius said timidly, "who do they think they are? Yelling things back at us like that?" His pale face had slightly reddened and he stared at the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. It had taken quite a toll on him to even manage sitting down and once he did so, he crossed his big arms across his cloaked chest. For a moment he looked as if he were about to burst, but once Narcissa's hand raised to touch his lumber shoulder, he seemed to slightly deflate.
"They'll come around, dear," she said timidly as she rubbed his shoulder sorrowfully. Her eyes were fixated on her husband and she lifted her hand to lay her blonde head on his shoulder space. For a moment she too stared at the busy streets, but she didn't let her posture shrink. "Just look at the scenery," she said softly, "it is nice to get out finally, isn't it?" When Lucius didn't respond back to her, she gave one last sigh and let her eyes shut.
Draco remained standing, his back straight. For a moment he gazed down at his parents and then he leaned back slightly. He didn't want to be out, didn't want to see what had been going on since the disappearance of the famous Malfoys. He watched his father stare unblinking and his mother attempt sleep. After a while, his father raised his large head. "Have a seat, Draco," Lucius said, giving his son a curious glare.
However, Malfoy didn't act. Instead he replied in return, "Actually, father, if you don't mind I'd like to be excused."
Lucius looked bewildered. From her spot against her husband's shoulder, Narcissa opened both of her eyes and swallowed. She didn't look up, instead she let her husband question their son. "Excused?" Lucius said up at his so, "why on earth do you want to be excused?"
Passing shoppers stared. It hadn't been their first time out in the five years since the battle, but they had never taken the trip out as a family. Though the venture had been wuite a feat for Draco, who had avoided many of the more popular places in the Wizarding World. Sighing carefully, Malfoy adjusted his posture and tried to look undaunted, as if the village was not at all menacing. Draco Malfoy was twenty-two and he still felt the need to ask his father's permission to leave his side. "I'd just like some time to myself," he admitted and his father turned his head back to the crowd.
"They're not going to like it if you run around here by yourself, Draco. Just last week I heard the drunken ramblings around here; they said the entire family's still a menace." He shook his head and his eyes scanned the streets. He repeated the phrase and shook his head with disgust, "A menace." Draco stiffened and he looked down at his father with a blank face. While he didn't open his mouth to ask again, he waited for his father to finish up.
Narcissa, however, was the one who came to his rescue. She let her eyes wander up to her son and she nodded slightly before turning back to her husband and placing a delicate hand over his massive one. Draco wasted no time. With his dingy little book held at his side, he took the back alley around Hogsmeade and tried to blend in.
A menace; though true several years back, the thought now was pretty false. Though it didn't stop his father from detesting each and every one of the people who'd believed it. And maybe it was because Lucius still had a heavy amount of pride, but Malfoy loathed the thought for one single reason. There was a great amount of embarrassment that had recently taken to overwhelm him. Malfoy didn't want to be known as a menace, didn't want to be known as anything for that matter. In general, Malfoy's main focus rested on exactly what he'd been trying to be at that very moment-- invisible.
He kept his head ducked down buried beneath the pages and scooted through the massive crowd, even managing to spit out a few apologies as he knocked by. The words inside the prop-like book had jumbled into one big blur and, feet moving fast, he'd hoped to find someplace where he could once again be alone. And then he saw it; there, drawn as if with a stick of black chalk, was the smiling face of someone all too familiar. Harry Potter's smiling face stared down at him happily and scribbled underneath it were the words, "The Boy Who Lived".
Malfoy's pathetic stomach churned and all he could do was manage to stare. His mouth hung open and his book almost fell from his grasp. And all the while, the beaming man, known truly as the boy who lived, witnessed the spectacle happily. There was a slight movement as his side and Malfoy looked curiously down. The new stranger was short and young, cheery-faced and matching the sketch of Harry's glorious smile. He looked back at the brick wall and then opened his mouth. Toothily, the little child said happily, "that's Harry Potter!" He rocked forward on his heels and his hands rest innocently behind his back. Stunned and still staring, Malfoy's mouth hung open continuously. "Harry Potter saved the whole world. My mummy said." Then his rocking stopped. When he finally looked up at Malfoy, he said gleefully, "hey, you're about his age now. Do you know him?"
And, despite himself, Malfoy found himself shaking his head no.
"You didn't? Gee," the boy gave the sketch one last keen look, "you should find out about him. He's everywhere!" And then he turned on his heels and walked flouncing from the spot.
For a moment Malfoy stayed at a stand still. Something inside him gave a little twitch. And it wasn't that he despised Potter and all that he'd done, because that wasn't it at all. It was the sheer shame that had made him want to chuck something at the drawing. Because the sketch was drawn undoubtedly with magic, a permanent reminder of Harry, who had saved them all. And while the years would pass and the times would change, the Harry sketch would remain forever present as would the deep Dark Mark on the forearm of Draco's skin.
Something made him extremely grateful for the thick sleeve of his peacoat.
Then he feverishly composed himself and continued his drawling stride, pressing his eyes back into the inside spine of his book. He pulled up the hood of his coat up and around the crown of his head and tried to continue on unnoticed. As he passed by, the watching eyes of the boy who lived followed him wearily.
Hogsmeade was back up and running ever since the battle had ended and everything seemed to be pretty serene. There was a rush of cool air about the village that seemed uplifting and free- as if the horrible event hadn't truly happened. Everyone seemed too busy with themselves to even notice Draco Malfoy, wandering aimlessly with his tail between his legs. He didn't quite know himself what had made him want to explore the village, but he truly hadn't seen it this up close for five years. Then, it was cloudy and deserted. Gone were the days of evening walks and window shopping. Then, nobody went around Hogsmeade unless it was truly necessary. Of course, the curfew had pretty much prevented such an outing. Maybe it was in celebration of the new times that Hogsmeade had been so busy. Every breath seemed an intake of the new dawn, the fresh new era.
But Draco wasn't quite paying much attention as to where he was going. So much time had he spent burying his face into his book, that he didn't see the man in front of him come lumbering his way. When the two collided, the flimsy little book finally slipped from his grasp and the blow forced Draco to one side. He reeled to the left and collided with the side of another brick building. Instantly Draco's ghostly pale face reddened and he sat on the ground where he'd fallen for a moment, slightly astounded that the fall had happened in the first place. But when he'd heard the footsteps clambering towards him, his senses kicked back into gear.
He kept his head facing downward and scrambled around the floor for his book. When he didn't manage to locate it, he forgot the thing in his anxiety and jumped up quickly. In his foolish rush, his heavy hood almost slid off his bobbing head. However, he didn't have much time to outrun his intruder. The man he'd only just collided with was in front of him quickly and his hands whisked out quickly to Draco's shoulders. He whisked away he sweat on his brow and said sincerely, "oh, hey, my deepest apologies, sir." But under the cover of his thick hood, Draco averted his eyes and stared cautiously on his polished shoes. He shook his head, but the man didn't seem to step away. He pressed the issue further and bit his quivering lower lip. "Hey," he said once again, stepping slightly forward, "your book."
Draco extended his hands and took the thing from the stranger meekly. "Thank you," he said politely.
But the man didn't scamper away to finish his nice evening outside. He bent down slightly and tried to peer underneath Draco's looming hood. He let his free hand slip off of the sleeve of Draco's peacoat and raised a thick brow, "are you OK?"
"Yes," Draco said hastily, his chin down low. "Yes, I'm quite alright, thanks." And the stranger didn't have much time to see for himself. Draco stumbled from the man, his book cradled like a baby, and took back off down the street, silently cursing at himself for trying to wander in the first place.
He had stumbled far enough down the road in time to miss the stranger wonder aloud, "Draco Malfoy?"
-------------------------------------------------
"That was...." Narcissa said to her husband about their trip out in a soothing voice, "refreshing."
"It was humiliating," Lucius said, frustration rising in his otherwise confident voice. He walked at the side of his beautiful wife, but his eyes were directed straight ahead.
"Darling," Narcissa soothed, "it's perfectly normal for a family to take an outing together." And then, when her husband's stiffness didn't soften, she smoothed her hand on his broad shoulder and said sweetly, "they will warm up to us, dear. It takes some getting used to."
Lucius remained stiff and quiet. As they passed through the slightly mellowed streets of Hogsmeade, he finally replied back timidly, "I don't need them to get used to our family. I don't want to make friends with them." And as they continued down the street, he shook his head from one side to another. His blonde hair he'd tied back restlessly.
Narcissa's soft voice did not break. She nodded at her husband and then seemed to chew slowly on her bottom lip, as if considering trying to talk sense in her husband in the first place. She said with a little shake of her head, "we don't have to make friends with them, dear, we have our own friends. It would be nice, though, to have an even more relaxing family outing sometime. We could always give it a try, Lucius. Even if we don't associate ourselves with them." But Narcissa didn't have any strong feelings towards the notion either way. Harry Potter had helped saved the life of her one and only son and these were his people. His people, the ones so happy and gleeful on the streets of Hogsmeade, didn't seem so bad once she'd had some time to accurately think about it.
But her husband didn't seem to be considering. He shook his blond head as well and when he finally spoke, it was out of pure detest, "Since when is it so much to ask that a husband and wife and their son---" But he was cut off by his newly frozen wife. She stopped walking and let her gaze drift back up to her agitated husband.
"Son?" She said, and her long blonde hair slid down in front of her pale forehead. "Lucius? Where is Draco?"
The bond between the two broke; Lucius let his hands slip from underneath Narcissa's thin little arm and he darted out fearfully deeper into the streets. All eyes gazed up at him. However, only this time did he choose to ignore them. With his cold eyes scanning the crowd, he felt a fleeting flutter of fear in the core of his panting chest.
Lucius spun around, his eyes wide and his hair whipping around his shoulders. For a moment he stared gaping at the streets and then he broke free from his wife's grasp. He lumbered back out into the streets, trying to avoid contact with its inhabitants, and whirled around in the middle of it. For a moment he considered calling out, but at the looming eyes of those around him, he couldn't help but remain absolutely silent. Narcissa was at his side shortly, her hands inching up her husband's broad shoulders. "Lucius," she said in a calm voice, "Lucius. Mabybe he's gone home. Maybe--"
"Maybe someone found him alone out there!" He said furious, and he gave each one of the passersby a menacing glare. "Maybe we shouldn't have let him wander..."
But Narcissa's voice had taken an accepting tone. She mulled over her husband's possibility and then dropped her eyes. "Lucius, he's twenty-two. He'll find his way home." And when her husband's chest only rose and fell anxiously, she placed her head once again on his shoulder and led him away from the busy village. "He'll be OK, dear." And though she said it so convincingly, neither of the two believed it as they strode from the village carefully and out of sight.
Vonne: Review! :) I'll update ASAP.
