Chapter Nine

Draco went along to the headquarters of the Daily Prophet with his father in the hopes of seeing Daphne. It was a rather grotty building, nothing glamorous, all printing machines on lino and bad coffee and interns who looked like Inferi. No sign of Daphne. The editor's office was barely better than the cubicles and with three men inside there wasn't a lot of room left.

'I heard the story alright,' Mr Waugh said. He took off his glasses and folded them into his front pocket.

'Did the giant complain?' Lucius said.

'No, one of our freelancers brought it up at a meeting this morning. Don't know how she heard of it but she said she could interview the groundskeeper.'

Draco's heart sank. He did not let it show. 'Was it Daphne Greengrass?'

The editor's eyes widened. 'Yes it was.'

'She's an ex–girlfriend. I daresay she blew it out of proportion without even investigating properly.'

'I do recall her writing some very complimentary things about you after the Macnair auction,' Lucius mused.

'It's a very recent split. I understand she's upset but that doesn't mean you can let her publish slander,' Draco said.

Ah. Slander. The magic word to make an editor bend to your will. Lucius and Draco had gone in expecting to bribe and cajole and offer some exclusive gossip in exchange for keeping the Hagrid thing quiet. Instead the editor was putty in their hand all because Draco happened to know the journalist in question personally and could establish good grounds for a court case. Life was sweet sometimes.

Of course, this meant seeing Daphne again was out of the question.

'Pity about the Greengrass girl,' Lucius said. He sounded very upbeat though; he tapped his cane along the skirting boards as they made their way out of the building. 'Your mother will be disappointed. Would've made a good match, you know I've heard wonderful things about their house in Cornwall.'

Draco said nothing. It was true; he had hoped the initial joy of a new girl would give way to something more lasting and he could stop worrying about finding a wife and producing an heir. Lucius was oblivious to Draco's glum expression and went on, 'With Seth out of the picture you need to get a move on Draco. You'll be twenty–five in a few weeks and people start to match up. If you're not careful you'll be sidelined.' Perhaps he should go back and see if Daphne would forgive him for ditching her and then turning up at her house drunk. Pretend he didn't even know she'd tried to ruin his name and paint him as a heartless bastard in the Prophet. Sigh. Relationships.

Once at home he penned a letter to her apologizing profusely and asking to meet for dinner. There weren't exactly many suitable, available women around and he couldn't throw away this relationship just because Daphne had tried to ruin his reputation in a national newspaper, could he?

He made out a final draft, added an extra 'sorry' and an oh–so–suitable 'I miss you already' and 'I thought we had something special' (was that too much?) and then sent it on.

Only maybe he'd underestimated her stubbornness because by the time he went to bed there was still no reply.

Life rolled on. A business bankrupted and Draco lost a chunk of money. A set of stocks went up. Seth fell off his broom when Lucius and Narcissa were out and Draco took him to St Mungo's. They were less than sympathetic. 'What is a boy like you doing on a broom anyways?' Lucius said. Draco flinched. Lucius was downright cruel sometimes. They had never been very loving parents, now that Draco considered it. There was more a fondness than a direct line of support and love. They had never been much into hugs and kisses, but there had been pats on the head at the very least. They expressed themselves through the buying of things; Lucius had shown Seth off, had doted on him with new clothes and toys and all that. How had his feelings hardened so suddenly? Did he really have the power to turn his love on and off like a tap?

Draco, who was slowly coming around to the idea of maybe liking his brother, couldn't stand to see how it upset Seth. How could Narcissa, who had taught Seth patiently and carried him and dressed him, how could she stand by coldly while Lucius tore him down? She mostly ignored him, giving him no guidance and yet expecting him to act perfectly. Draco knew Seth was fed and clothed and supervised by the house-elf, but no responsible parent left a child with a house-elf for more than ten or fifteen minutes. House–elves were pre–occupied with their chores and didn't watch children properly and anyways, it was a very unhealthy relationship to foster. Draco did not like it one bit.

He took to bringing Seth out with him in the afternoons. At first he didn't like it much but actually he began to enjoy the company. When he was getting irate letters or trying to figure out the value of an enterprise it did him good to get out for a walk and see a chirpy round face, not dissimilar to his own. It came to the stage where he could no longer deny he had legitimately come to enjoy being a brother. How had it sneaked upon him? He could still see annoying Seth was, he still flinched when he saw sticky handprints all over the glass, but it just didn't bother him so much. And that made it extremely difficult to ignore the situation at the manor.

It was disturbing to hear his parents speak about Seth. 'What did I do wrong?' Narcissa asked. 'The pregnancy felt just the same as yours and you turned out fine.' He wanted to shake her. They stood in the corridor, he was on his way to the schoolroom and she'd stopped for a moan. 'It's not like that mother, it just happens,' Draco began. 'And you must stop being so negative, it's really–'

'Oh but I can't even look at him! Lucius and I have discussed it and we don't understand, how can something so vile as a squib come from us? Malfoy and Black, the two strongest families and–'

He didn't want to hear this. How often had she harped on about the quality of Draco's blood when he was young? And what good had it done? It had only bloated his ego, told him to be proud of something over which he had no control. And it made all their compliments seem cold and unfeeling, knowing all praise would be obsolete if he'd turned out like Seth. So he cut off her speech, 'Mother, it's almost ten. Hermione will be here soon and I really have to go.'

Narcissa had tears in her eyes. What right had she to cry? She sat in a big house with food in front of her and a husband and two sons, all of whom loved her. She had friends who visited and everybody admired her and there was enough money to keep her in trinkets and dresses til she died. Let her know real pain before she cried.

Draco ignored her tears, only said, 'Look, here's Hermione now.'

Hermione still had to Apparate to the gates each morning and be escorted through the house with an elf. Lucius and Narcissa maintained they couldn't trust her with access to the Floo. 'Hello Draco, Mrs Malfoy,' she said. Narcissa said nothing and Draco nodded. It would have been fine if only Hermione would move on to the schoolroom, but she had too much pride to shuffle past like a servant. She just had to make conversation.

'I've got a really good lesson planned for today.'

Narcissa gave a condescending half–smile and made it clear she was thinking about something else.

'I've got a muggle newspaper and I'm going to go through it and see, the photos don't move so I thought–'

'Miss Granger I have better things to be doing. Teach him whatever you want.'

'Mrs Malfoy, don't you want to know how well he's doing?' Hermione was frowning. Draco knew that she had picked up on the Malfoys lack of parenting, of course, but she had to be the nosy busybody and prove it to herself. What was more worrying was that he agreed with her. He could muster no anger towards her because he just as frustrated as her on this occasion. Draco was not somebody who saw suffering and cared… yet here he was, feeling vaguely nauseated listening to his mother.

'Miss Granger, ever since we found out about the squib situation I have been doing my very best to forget about the whole ordeal so I will thank you to mind your own business and get on with teaching.' She wrinkled her nose and swept away. Hermione looked on the verge of tears but she pursed her lips and blinked very hard and strode off with a huff. Draco had to run to match her pace.

In the schoolroom she slammed her books and papers down on the desk. 'How can you stand to hear her talk like that?' she burst out. She used her hands a lot when she was angry and her hair seemed to grow frizzier before Draco's eyes. 'It's just not right! To put Seth down like that when he hasn't done anything wrong! Imagine trying to forget your own flesh and blood… Some children die and their parents are left alone, there are so many people who want babies and here she is with a perfectly lovely, healthy son and what is she doing?... Oh Draco you have to try and knock some sense into her, to both of them! Surely you can see it's wrong? I know you, you don't act like they do, he looks up to you, he needs you to fight this for him. How can you stand to see him… see him neglected in this way? Because that's what this is you know–'

'Hermione. Calm down.' But he did not want her to calm down. She was very interesting to watch, the way her nostrils flared and her very breath was angry. All that emotion, bubbling there under the surface whenever she chose to tap into it. He had been told all his life that the range of proper feelings went from veiled disappointment to mild amusement, but how could that be true? Here was this woman who had it all on her face and she had a way with words, the way she spoke; it ignited something. She worked you up, she did.

She let out a huff, crossed her arms. There was a shake in her breath. When she could not speak all that feeling was in her from her arms to her legs. So fascinating to watch he couldn't think of a single way to insult her.

'It bothers me as well,' he said. Stupid Draco. That was not the response a speech like that deserved.

'Bothers you? Bothers you! Draco Malfoy how can you watch your little brother be put down at every opportunity and act as though it's just very slightly irritating? You really are the most–'

'Hermione!' Oh why couldn't she see that he wasn't like her, that he didn't have the words? She fell silent, maybe he had conveyed some shadow of his emotions, and he continued, 'I didn't say I wouldn't do anything. I'll do something.'

'You'll talk to them?'

'Wouldn't do any good.'

'Well what then?'

She didn't believe in him. She thought he was just appeasing her, calming her temper. That wouldn't do at all. It suddenly seemed so important that she thought he was fiercesome. A snap decision but it had to be made. 'I'll take him.'

'What?'

'Yeah. I have a spare room in my flat; he can come live with me. They won't put up a fuss.'

'Draco you can't just–'

She stopped when Tilly appeared with Seth at the door. Seth looked glum, as he often did, and it made Draco's mind up. He basically cared for the boy already.

'Come here for a second,' he said. Seth crossed the room, slightly nervous. 'You know mother and father don't really treat you like they used to?' Seth squirmed, embarrassed especially because Hermione was there. Draco paid no attention and went on, 'You're stuck with a house-elf and that's not right. So I think you ought to come live with me.'

The little head snapped up, eyes bulging. 'With you?'

'Yeah. As soon as possible, tonight even. I'll get Tilly to start packing right away.' He was almost bowled over by the force of Seth tackling him with a hug around the waist. 'Is that a yes?' Draco said.

'Yes yes yes yes, a thousand times yes!'

Draco would have gone on and maybe picked him up and swung him around but Hermione was right there so he only ruffled Seth's hair and started giving orders to the house-elf. Then he went to his own desk and the lesson began.