The Awaited Answer

His first year at Hogwarts had been an interesting one, to say the very least. Like the rest of the Malfoy clan, he had been Sorted into Slytherin; the Hat barely made contact with his head before decided upon his House. He had encountered Harry Potter – and though they were the furthest thing from friends – he was sure he had made a lasting impression on the famous wizard. And then, there was the whole troll incident on Halloween night… not to mention everything that followed thereafter.

To finally be home after such an eventful year was a bit of a downer for twelve-year-old Draco Malfoy. Spending the better part of a year with his older brothers while being away from home was the best thing he could have asked for. And while a part of him felt incomplete while he was at Hogwarts, he was still very upset to have to come home… even if coming home meant he would be filling the void that started when he left for school in the first place.

Just then, there was an unfamiliar rapping at the door. Draco threw his letter from Pansy Parkinson lazily onto his desk and slowly made his way to the door. Before he could reach his destination, however, the white door swung open to reveal his older brother Dmitri. Bewildered by his older brother's visit, Draco watched with a raised eyebrow as Dmitri entered the room and flung the door closed once again. The older Malfoy immediately made himself comfortable, much to Draco's dismay.

Draco couldn't even formulate his thoughts has Dmitri shoved the shorted blonde onto the king-sized bed. Letting out a disgruntled groan, Draco glared up at his brother, who had taken a seat in the armchair beside the bookshelf. Dmitri shot Draco a satisfied smirk before turning his attention to the moving family portrait that sat atop Draco's desk.

And then it began.

Rolling his eyes, Draco grumbled to himself. Dmitri had let himself into his bedroom to lecture him about their baby sister. Where did Dmitri get off waltzing into his bedroom and accusing him of being the villain to a story that Daphne had painted for their family? More importantly, where di Daphne get off asking him if he wanted to go outside and play Quidditch every other day? He was absolutely positive that his sister didn't even know the rules to the game!

Dmitri continued to drone on about how Daphne was just a ball of emotions since the boys left for Hogwarts. After all, it was Daphne's first year alone. All the other years, she had Draco with her. Draco began spacing out – he was just trying to enjoy his summer holiday without the burdens of his little sister. Was it such a crime for thinking that he had outgrown her and her silly antics?

Then, Dmitri asked him the infamous question.

Inhaling sharply, the younger Malfoy thought about the question his brother had thrown his way. Did he really have to answer that question? Shaking his head, Draco turned his attention away from Dmitri and looked toward the closed bedroom door. He sighed sadly. Did Dmitri even have to ask that question?

"Of course, I want to go play Quidditch!" Draco admit, plopping himself face first under his goose-feathered pillows. He could hear his older brother walking toward him slowly. Even from beneath his pillow, Draco could feel the infamous Malfoy smirk that his brother was shooting him. "There. I've said it! I've confessed!"

With the hopes of ridding himself of his hovering older brother, Draco lobbed his heaviest pillow toward Dmitri. Sitting up quickly, he figured he would have to explain himself a bit further than what he had already state. Draco frowned; although he would have loved to go outside and play with his sister, the ever-present question fogged his mind: wasn't he getting a bit too old to be playing games – even a game like Quidditch – with his nine-year-old sister?

"But I much prefer my new best friends," Draco argued before Dmitri could get a word out. The look on Dmitri's face, however, reminded Draco of the same look that Daphne would give him during dinner, which was the only time he ever really saw his sister. "Although… I hate to see Daph looking so depressed."

Dmitri let out an all-too-familiar sigh as he rubbed his temples in frustration. He grumbled angrily to himself before leaning against the nearest beam of Draco's four-poster bed. Why he always bothered with the shenanigans of his younger siblings, even Dmitri himself did not know. He was getting much too old for it, he scolded himself. Dmitri stared at Draco with a frown.

"I mean… she's still my sister," Draco stated, staring at the picture on his desk of himself, Dmitri and Daphne. He recalled all the good times they used to have- the times he told himself that he gave up when he went to Hogwarts and made friends of his own. He didn't need to rely on his baby sister for company anymore. He had his Slytherin friends – the ones he grew up with, but didn't pay attention to. But Daphne was his sister… and he still cared about her. He wasn't that heartless, he told himself. She was more than any friend could be; she was family. "I wish that I could just show her how I feel."

Draco looked up at Dmitri and sighed. His older brother was smirking again. Instantly, Draco knew he had fallen prey to his brother's trick. Draco's mind brought him back to the original question… why did he have to let on more than the answer? Now, Dmitri knew how much guilt Draco was harboring! The young Malfoy cursed himself for giving away too much information.

The twelve-year-old jumped off his bed and onto his feet. Glaring at his older brother, he replied, "Of course, I want to go play Quidditch… but then, she doesn't even know how!"

"Then? Teach her, Draco," Dmitri commanded, crossing his arms over his chest. He rarely got to play the role of big brother for Draco because the younger Malfoy much preferred the triplets to him, so to because to boss his brother around was a refreshing thought.

Draco let out a small laugh. Had his intelligent older brother gone bonkers? He looked toward Dmitri once more and then toward the door. Gathering all his strength, Draco quickly pushed his older brother out of his bedroom. "Yeah, right! Bye!"

If his first year had been an interesting one, there was no doubt about his fourth year being even more eventful. By this year, Draco was used to going to school without the guidance of the triplets. He had gotten used to roaming the halls of Hogwarts with just one other Malfoy, Dmitri. In his fourth year, however, he had grown accustomed to seeing his eleven-year-old kid sister gallivanting through the halls in search of him. On top of having his sister attend Hogwarts with him, the Triwizard Tournament was a wonderful surprised – same went for the Yule Ball. There was so much packed into one year, but then again… when wasn't there?

However, once again, Draco found himself trapped at home in the comfort of his own bedroom, hunched over his desk. And once again, the fifteen-year-old had nothing to do with his summer holiday. He never felt like inviting his school friends over – especially now that his sister was attending school with him. Draco just thought the whole charade was a disaster waiting to happen.

All of a sudden, there was an unceremonious knock at the door. Draco sighed in agony, turning to face the door. That hadn't been Daphne's notorious knock. In fact, the knock hadn't sounded like Dmitri's. His parents hardly ever visited him in his room and they didn't have a house-elf anymore. Draco feared that the person beyond the door might've been one of his eldest brothers: the triplets. If he was lucky, he told himself, Darien would be his surprise visitor.

Before the young Slytherin boy could respond to the tapping at the door, it swung open once again – just like it had three years ago. This time, as Draco had guessed, it was not Dmitri behind the door. Fortunately for him, it was Darien. Staring curiously at his older brother, Draco scratched the back of his head nervously. He rarely saw his eldest brothers anymore – not since the three of them graduated from Hogwarts, at least.

Darien shot Draco a caring smile. Draco responded with a curt nod before turning back to his studies. The youngest triplet plopped himself onto Draco's large bed and began talking to his youngest brother about how much older he looked since their last encounter. Darien continued to go on and on even though it seemed as though Draco was completely disregarding his presence.

And then, Darien's true mission had been revealed. The nineteen-year-old blond-haired boy only sought out one thing: an answer – the same answer that Dmitri asked for three years ago… the very answer Daphne seemed to be for every day.

Draco gripped his quill tightly before turning his head to face his older brother. How many people would be asking him this question on Daphne's behalf? Was it really his fault that he didn't have time for her anymore? And besides, was it his fault that she hardly made any friends during her first year at Hogwarts? He had given her so many perfect opportunities to make friends, but she clung to him for dear like when they were at school!

"Of course, I was to go play Quidditch,' the Slytherin Seeker confessed to his older brother. What had gotten into him? At first, when he let his little secret slip to Dmitri, he felt the guilt eating away at him. But he felt less and less guilty as the years went on. In fact, by the time Daphne had turned eleven. Draco had grown tired of the constant question he receiver from his sister. But at the same time… there was a part of him that wished he could just cave in – cave into his childish affairs, "and fly around and jump and play!"

Turning back to the blank parchment on his desk, Draco was reminded that his fifth year was just about the corner, which meant his O.W.L.s were coming up. While he could have cared less about them, he recalled Dmitri's exemplary marks and Draco pushed himself to do better. He just had to.

"It's just that I have other things to do!" replied the fifteen-year-old, frantically jotting down notes from the open textbook beside him. He wouldn't have minded if Darien had come into his room to simply talk. No, Draco wouldn't have minded at all! But that fact that Darien was only drawn to his bedroom because of Daphne… no, Draco could not accept that; why did everything have to be about her? "I'm not ignoring you, but can you go away?"

Three years ago, Draco thought, when Dmitri had come into his room, Dmitri had been less annoying about Daphne. That was the role he had always played: the mediator. But whenever one of the triplets tried to intervene, Daphne was always the victim! In a few seconds, Draco heard Darien jump off the bed and stride over to where he was seated. Dammit, he groaned to himself, wrong choice of words!

"I'm sorry, Dare!" cried the cowardly teenager.

Darien rolled his eyes as he leaned against the edge of Draco's desk. He picked up the framed photograph Draco kept of the Malfoy siblings – all six of them. Darien shrugged before tossing the delicate frame Draco's way. He began to explain how isolated their little sister felt and how helpless poor Daphne had become.

"I get that she feels lonely," Draco reasoned, putting his quill down to stare at the picture, "but she had you guys. There's more than just two of us!"

Irked, Draco shoved the picture back into his older brother's hands and pointed at the rest of their siblings. Why was Daphne so obsessed with spending time with him? They had other siblings – other siblings who would probably enjoy spending time with her. "There's you, Damien, Daniel, Dem!" shouted Draco in frustration.

Darien rolled his eyes once more. With the moving picture still in one hand, he pushed himself off Draco's wooden desk and made his way towards the door. As he passed the bed, he roughly chucked the fragile frame onto Draco's satin sheets.

Once the door slammed shut, Draco frowned. He was finally alone; he had gotten what he wanted, so why did he feel so empty?

A couple of years had passed since Daphne last asked Draco the famed question. And although he grew to hate his sister's badgering over the years, he would trade away anything and everything to turn back time and abandon his responsibilities. It was now his sixth year and things had quickly fallen apart. He was spending less and less time with his friends and more time working on his impossible mission.

But what choice did he have?

If he abandoned his responsibilities, the lives of his entire family were at stake. But if he stuck to his mission and failed… Draco shuddered at the thought. The fate of his family rested in his now trembling hands. What was a sixteen-year-old boy to do?

He was currently on his way to the Slytherin Common Room. Crabbe and Goyle were trailing not too far behind him when he heard voices coming near the entrance of the hidden room. Quickly, tucking himself behind a statue, Draco poked his head out inconspicuously to see what was going on. His icy eyes widened as his heartbeat quickened. He had heard the whispers at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, but dismissed the thought as nothing more than gossip crafted out of boredom. But right before him now was his little sister in the arms of his worst enemy.

Grunting to himself, Draco turned back to face Crabbe and Goyle. He shoved past his cronies and stormed up to the Room of Requirements, leaving his baffled followers behind. Things had finally become clear: why Daphne had stopped asking him to play; why Daphne would respond with such snark; why Daphne just hadn't been the same. Daphne, Daphne, Daphne. Once again, Draco thought, the little brat had somehow slipped the situation to make it about her.

This was supposed to be his time to shine and how the family what he could do. Not the triplets. Not Dmitri. And especially not Daphne! So why… why couldn't she just let him have this moment for himself?

Draco stood before the doors of the Hospital Wing. He ran a nervous hand through his uncharacteristically messy hair, thinking about the happenings of the night before. The Death Eaters had successfully broken into the castle. Professor Snape had managed to kill the Headmaster. And now Draco was left to face the damage that he almost single-handedly caused. Bringing his shaking hands to the doors of the infirmary, Draco bitterly thought about what a reckless fool he had been the entire year.

It hadn't been long since his last visit to the Hospital Wing. Of course, he had been the one injured and Daphne had been the one visiting. Daphne… he was drawn back to the reality of the situation. She was his little sister. As Draco made his way to the very end of the infirmary, he thought about the years before his sixth year. He even thought about his life before Hogwarts. Those times had been much simpler, her thought. It was just him and Daphne…

The Slytherin Prefect hung his head in shame immediately after he made eye contact with the raven-haired Gryffindor. Harry sat near the end table while Draco stood at the foot of the bed awkwardly. Both of them stared at each other just as awkwardly as Draco stood before Harry turned his attention back to the unconscious and battered form of Daphne Malfoy. Draco watched as the Boy Who Lived stood up and darted toward him rather violently.

While Harry began blaming Draco for everything that happened the previous night, the Malfoy boy could not take his cold grey eyes off his little sister. The poor girl lay in a comatose state on the bed before him. He inhaled sharply, taking in every accusation the noble Saint Potter threw his way. Draco knew he deserved the tongue-lashing he was receiving; he was surprised that Potter hadn't thrown a punch or a hex his way.

Harry rolled his eyes as Draco continued to stare into space. Feeling that he was done with his little spiel, the Gryffindor savior stormed out of the Hospital Wing to give Draco some time with his sister. Hopefully, that was all Daphne really needed to bring her out of her coma.

Draco slowly approached the chair near his sister's head, where Harry had been sitting. He could feel the tears from last night coming back. His little sister was in the hospital bed because of his careless mistake. She was in a coma because he couldn't live up to the Malfoy name he so pompously bragged about. And now, he had to pay the price.

But he would have traded away all the treasures in the world just to hear his sister ask him the infamous question he always seemed to avoid.

"Daphne?" Draco whispered, taking her cold, limp hand in his. "Please just know I'm right here."

He gripped her hand tightly as if his hold would somehow wake her from her slumber. When he was greeted with silence, he shut his eyes in anger – anger at himself for not being there for her when she needed him the most. Anger at himself for responding to her innocent question with a silence just as deafening.

"That must've been rough on your own…"

Draco opened his eyes listless. What power did he have to wake Daphne? She was completely out of it! No amount of magic could restore her consciousness, only she had the power to do that. Draco pulled himself closer to his sister, caressing her bruised cheek. His mind drifted back to the horrendous thought of his mission – a mission he knew he had failed…

"But now I've failed him and I worry that," Draco's eyes filled to the brim with tears, "he'll take you back! … I'll be alone…"

Draco wrapped his arms around Daphne, bringing himself as close to her as he possibly could. He could barely forgive himself for letting her fall into the hands of the Dark Lord; how could he possibly ever forgive himself if she were to be killed by him?

But what was he supposed to do? He had been branded. He made a deal with the devil He wanted to rectify the family name! … but at the cost of his younger sister. He shook his head, still holding her close to him. What happened to the little boy who would sacrifice riches beyond measure just to spend time with his little sister? Now, he would forever be known as the man who sacrificed his only sister for power…

"You deserve much better," Draco sobbed into her tangled platinum blonde locks, "than what I've become. I wish I could change the past…"

None of this would have ever happened, he scolded, if he hadn't been so obsessed with beating his older brothers. No, he told himself, none of this would have ever happened, if he had just told her the truth!

If he had just answered the door…

"… I wanna go play Quidditch…!" he whined, holding his sister tightly as his sobs worsened.

-author's note-

[written]: October 21, 2014
[published]: October 21, 2014
[last updated]: September 18, 2017
[word count]: 3,302 words without a/n

[MV COMMENT]: (october twenty-first, twenty-fourteen note): i originally wasn't going to release this chapter untill i finished the daphne malfoy series, but seeing as i haven't even started it... i didn't want to keep everyone waiting. thank you to the very few people who reviewed this story. your reviews helped when it came to writing this chapter of the two-shot. while i'm not that proud of how it turned out, i must say that i'm actually proud of myself for getting it done to begin with. i've had the draft of this story tucked away for so long that i nearly forgot about it! please tell me what you think of this story, so i may continue with the original (though still untitled) story! thanks for reading! - xoxo, mav.