Opportunities
It was all a matter of moving forward and picking up the pieces. Harry knew that he had somehow acquired the right to live after his willing sacrifice to Voldemort. But he could still see all the faces that died for him. The room was quiet and his mind was turning. He'd never finished school, so why was he holding this letter in his hand? From what he had always been told, you were required to finish all of your schooling before being able to find a job. So what had he done to deserve this? Saved us all he could hear Silver say from earlier this afternoon.
It made some sense, that his work this past year had made him an unofficial candidate for an Auror. After all, isn't that what an Auror did? Capture dark witches and wizards to ensure the safety of the rest of the world.
The letter stated that tomorrow was the first day of the qualifying examinations. Once he had cleared those two days, he would begin three years of further studying and rigorous training. He needed something to get his mind off things, and doing this would once again grant him a purpose to life. He hadn't got past the first paragraph, he wasn't sure if he wanted to read the rest but the idea of it all began feeling more attractive to him. The rest explained that the Ministry's first choices were all who fought the Second Wizarding World – they would be granted the first examinations being as they had sufficiently proven themselves.
And then it all clicked together like a complicated puzzle that really wasn't as complicated as he'd thought. In elegant script, the name Kingsley Shacklebolt concluded the letter authoritatively. He smiled, glancing down at the name. Things had really turned around. There was now a Minister of Magic that had bravely fought alongside them. Kingsley earned it.
The door shut downstairs and he heard Silver talking. He wondered if it was Jordan, but then he heard another girl speaking instead. He dropped the letter onto his bed, and dashed out the door and down the stairwell. An illuminating shade of red added some color to the dark foyer - -the one Silver was in the process of renovating. She hated how dark everything was, but Harry didn't mind it.
"Ginny?" said Harry smiling, wondering if it really was her. She was supposed to be due back at Hogwarts. She turned around, and ran into his arms.
"You two are such desperate romantics." said Silver behind them, wondering whether she should leave and give them some room.
Harry glared at her before Ginny gave him a quick peck on the lips. "We're supposed to have a weekend off at Hogsmeade, I know, McGonagall wasn't quite fond of the idea but we all really wanted it. We had been cooped up at school for so long, it was long overdue don't you think?"
"This isn't Hogsmeade Ginny, just clarifying –" Silver said teasingly.
"Obviously! But I asked if I could stop by to check on you two and she said I could, as long as I told you she says hello."
Harry smiled, "Brilliant."
"So did you get your letter from Kingsley this morning? Ron's already read his."
He nodded, "Our first examination is tomorrow."
Ginny already knew this. "Are you ready then?"
"I think so."
"Think so?" echoed Silver.
He laughed, "Alright, fine. I'm ready."
Silver squeezed his shoulder before walking off. It was time to feed Teddy.
"I've missed you." he admitted, taking Ginny's pale hand in his.
She moved in closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he snaked his at her waist. "So have I."
Her voice was soft and slow. Harry quite liked it.
He pulled her into him, staring into her light brown eyes. He had missed the sensations of her body against his. Ginny was all he needed, he had decided, to realize there was something more to look forward to. He could spend the rest of his life with her, and for the first time since that encounter, he was grateful he had lived. Because otherwise, he would've missed out on all of this.
Their lips met in fiery passion, doing the things their separation had strictly forbidden.
\/\/\/\/
Her lips were chapped.
He couldn't quite shake the thought away as they moved together, her mouth exploring his, until she began trailing kisses down his face and neck. Draco allowed himself a moment to separate from the situation, wondering why he couldn't just enjoy Astoria. Her kisses ignited the warmth in his cheeks and he grabbed her face to find her lips again. After a few more stray kisses, they separated, Astoria settling her head on his lap. Her hand gently rubbed his knee in silence.
"It's funny." She said smiling.
Draco regarded the top of her blonde head curiously, "What is?"
Her hands stopped mid-thigh. "We never knew each other at school…and look at us now."
He didn't say anything but nodded his head, although knowing that Astoria couldn't see.
"You were always dating someone else, it's like…they couldn't keep their hands off of you." she giggled softly.
That was half true. He was always dating a different girl, before his fifth year. Then there was just one girl, and he had never thought of finding another one since then.
"Well, you can't blame then can you?" he asked playfully, trying to sound unaffected.
She turned in his lap to face him, grinning. "I can't." she reached up to touch his face, "I like us together, Draco."
He smiled, not really knowing what else to do but thankfully, Astoria moved up and kissed him. Their physical relationship did have its advantages. But a few moments later, there were footsteps coming from downstairs.
Draco broke away from her, "My parents are home?" he said, sounding more like a question than a statement.
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
"They've been gone for weeks." He began to say, jumping off his bed and towards the door.
"What do you mean? You never told me –"
He left her mid-sentence as he walked down the corridor, silently. He didn't know why he was scared of his parents hearing him, but once he rounded the corner, his suspicions were confirmed. Among the white walls and grand marble columns stood his mother, removing her coat and letting mincy, the house elf, take it to store away. He could hardly see her face, but judging by her slow, careful movements he knew she wasn't well. Once he was sure she was alone, he stepped down the polished staircase, gripping on the rail – although knowing he would neither fall nor slip.
Her dark hair, streaked with white, was pulled up into an impeccable bun, just as it always was. Her appearance hadn't changed. She was still well-kempt and orderly, but he could tell she had permanently been scarred on the inside. Just like him.
"Mum."
She didn't look at him. Her gray eyes were set on the chandelier hanging from the remarkable height of the ceiling. It wasn't the same chandelier of course, it had been replaced after it shattered on the ground. She was standing in the very same spot her sister had been, just a year ago. At the time that Dobby had unhinged the original chandelier and sent it crashing down to the black floor. He remembered it vividly. He would probably never forget it.
"She was awful, wasn't she?" she asked quietly. Draco barely caught it.
"I never understood her, not really. We were raised by the same parents. We lived a similar childhood. Of course, her personality was always unrulier than mine, but could it lead her to who she became? I never imagined it."
Draco stood a few feet behind her, uncomfortable talking about his aunt. He hated her. Not that he ever really loved her. Respected? Perhaps, when he was younger. But now, he was ashamed of his family roots. He could barely consider her anything of the sort.
"You left." He said, trying to shadow the accusation in his tone.
Her shoulders rose as she sighed, "We didn't want to tell you."
There was silence, and Draco wondered why she was being so short with him. "Tell me what?"
"We didn't want you to worry, you see." She said, avoiding the question.
He was growing impatient, "You can't just tell me what it is, can you?"
She turned around, "It's nothing to worry over…"
"Forget it." he said, regretting his harsh tone as soon as it came out and was about to head back to his room when she stopped him.
"Wait." She said hoarsely, and then Draco wondered if that was the reason why she had been whispering before. Had she lost her voice? Was she screaming? Was she and his father arguing?
"Your father was called back to trial." She supplied, with no emotion, really, "And so was I."
He felt his palms perspire. He had already been to trial and so had his parents. Everyone who had been involved with Voldemort had been detained at the Ministry. They were repeatedly threatened of their future at Azkaban, and for most, that's exactly what happened. Draco and his family were the lucky few. His last minute compliance of denying Harry's identity when he had been brought back to the manor saved him. It saved all of them. But no one was happy about the results. There were angry protesters outside of the Ministry that day.
Draco blinked, hard, to shake away the memories.
"And?"
She inhaled a sharp breath, "They're trying to find a reason to sentence your father to Azkaban again. I've already been released with the assurance of not being called back, but not your father."
He didn't say anything. A part of him felt that his life would be better without his father around, but then again, he was his father. He had made plenty of mistakes in his life, but there had to be some sort of loyalty to blood ties. But then he thought of Bellatrix, and how he wished she had never existed.
"He's fine now, of course. He went….off somewhere." She stammered, knowing very well he was back at a pub, having taken a keen liking to strong liquor as of late. Maybe that's why Draco sympathized with him: they had both found comfort in the same sort of medicine.
"And…how are you?" he asked, feeling like a little boy again.
She took a moment to answer, taking even, measured breaths. Even now, she tried to stay strong. "I've been better."
He nodded, recklessly sticking his hands in his pockets, "Yeah."
He couldn't stand looking at her anymore. Her eyes were tired and red. He missed his life. Although, it wasn't perfect, it was certainly better than this mess.
"Mr. Lyons said he could get you a job if you'd like, by the way." She said, instantly perking up at the idea of normalcy once again, "It isn't much, just as his assistant, but there's potential for growth. He's a lawyer, so there's probably some very important work for you to do."
"A lawyer?" Draco echoed. Lawyers hadn't been used by the Ministry in decades. They were believed to even be a myth.
"The Minister for Magic has changed things. He's decided that the justice system has been very unfair for a long time now and has resurrected them." She considered this, "It's good, I think. I suppose we all deserve a fair chance at defending ourselves."
He agreed with her. If there was such a thing a few months ago, there wouldn't have been so many unnecessary deaths or prosecutions.
"I'd like that, giving people a second chance." He said genuinely. After all, he had already been given a second chance more than once. Maybe he could bring that same opportunity to others who were worthy enough.
Narcissa smiled. It wasn't fake or forced. It was earnest, and determinedly hopeful. She hugged her son. "My dear boy." She whispered into his shoulder, "My dear, dear boy."
A/N: My updates are taking too long, I know. Bear with me, school is kicking my butt!
Thank you all for your patience (:
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