A/N: I still don't own anything. J.K. Rowling owns it all…a fact of which I am constantly reminded. In this chapter I must also hail the imagination of Hasbro in creating the game Monopoly that is mentioned in this chapter. I do not own the game or the rights to it.
Quick note, what did you all think of that last chapter? It felt intense for me when I was writing it, but I'm not entirely sure if it came across how I wanted it to… As always, please review!
New Year, New Ideals?
The bringing of the New Year was held at Blaise's Estate, Most of the Order had come for the evening dinner, and had stayed around for a while after. As the night progressed however, the crowd diminished until it was only the Golden Trio and Ginny as well as the Silver Trio. Ron, Ginny and Harry had started a quidditch conversation, which Hermione feared would get heated because of all the alcohol that had been consumed. So far it had stayed pleasant, although rather hard to follow. Blaise and Pansy had coerced Hermione into bringing some muggle board games, and had started an intense game of Monopoly. The two Slytherins had needed the game explained to them, but had both picked it up extremely fast; Blaise pulling out into a large lead early in the game, leaving Hermione and Pansy behind. They had started their game seated on the floor with the board on the coffee table; their champagne and wine glasses perched delicately on the mahogany top. Pansy sat resting her chin on the table, her forehead furrowed in concentration. All the properties had been bought, and she was attempting to decide with whom to barter for the properties she wanted.
Draco sat at ease on the couch behind them, a wine glass warming his hand, watching the game with lazy interest. A small smile played on his face as he sampled his wine, watching Pansy plot her next move.
"I think you're out brained Pans," he commented lightly.
"Are you calling me stupid?" Pansy asked, her eyes still glued to the board.
"Far from it," Draco replied. "You are a brilliant witch. However you are playing against Hermione Granger who doesn't like to lose, and Blaise, who works in business and banking for a living."
"That doesn't mean I'm going to lose," she grumbled, tapping her fingers against the table.
"Pansy if you take any longer, it's going to be midnight," Blaise yawned, falling backwards onto the floor.
"Oh calm down you twat," Pansy commented. "There's still two hours to go. I have plenty of time."
"Maybe if you're going to play by yourself," Blaise groaned from the floor, his arm slung over his eyes.
This caused Hermione to burst out laughing, almost spilling her champagne as she tried to control herself. She managed to contain her laughter, only to start laughing again, when she saw Blaise peeking out at her from under the coffee table. Pansy reached underneath the table and poked him in the side, causing him to jump; bumping his head unceremoniously on the underside of the table and letting out a rather high-pitched yelp.
"That was attractive," Draco commented sarcastically as Blaise crawled out from under the table, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.
Blaise shot him a dirty look, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. "Sweet Salazar Pansy, haven't you taken your turn yet?"
Pansy snorted quietly. "No. But just for you, I'll take my turn now."
"Thank you," Blaise sighed as Pansy rolled the dice and took her move. "Granger if you're not any faster than Pansy, I'm going to die."
"Don't worry," Hermione laughed. "I was planning out my move while Pansy was deciding on hers."
"Wonderful. Take it," Blaise prodded, draining his glass.
Hermione smiled, trading a property card with Pansy, giving her a full set of one of the powerhouse rows of properties. That pushed Pansy out of the loop creating a toss-up game between Blaise and Hermione; one that Blaise ended up winning by an extremely slim margin. By the time the game was over, only ten minutes remained until midnight. Blaise and Pansy disappeared into the kitchen to grab another bottle of champagne, leaving Draco, Ginny and the Golden Trio behind. Pansy and Blaise returned with two minutes to spare; passing out the glasses and pouring the bubbly drink. As the grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight, the all toasted the New Year; their glasses clinking merrily together.
"Godric Blaise," Ginny commented, as she sipped from her glass. "Did you spike this with something else? This is giving me the hiccups which never happens."
"Agreed," Hermione said, hiccupping quietly. "What did you do to it?"
"Nothing," Blaise said, holding his hands up defensively. "I didn't do anything to it."
"We wouldn't judge you if you did," Ron added, downing his glass. "In fact I rather like it."
"I swear on my questionable soul that I didn't tamper with the champagne," Blaise said solemnly, a hint of a smile hiding on his face.
"Whether or not it's true," Harry smiled. "It's a delicious drink."
...
"Bloody Merlin," Draco sighed running his fingers through his hair.
"That's not appropriate language Draco," Narcissa warned, carefully splitting eggshells and delicately pouring the contents into a large China dish. "Besides, there's no reason for you to be upset in the first place."
"There's plenty of reason mother," Draco growled, his fingers drumming agitatedly on the countertop. "What are you going to do if they come to you again? Are you just going to up and join them?"
Narcissa sighed, tucking a stray blonde lock behind her ear. "I don't know Draco. I can speak for myself but I cannot speak for your father. He is his own person and has his own thoughts and ideas of things."
"So you'd let him put you through all that pain and suffering again?" He hissed, his gaze darkening. "Even though you know it's wrong?"
"Draco you have to keep in mind that your father's ideals and mine were equally aligned once upon a time. As were yours...Whereas yours have changed, mine have not necessarily differed completely. When your father joined the Death Eaters, I didn't question it. The group paralleled all the things I had been taught through my childhood. I agreed with the things they were saying, and the practices they were putting in motion. That didn't change until they started to threaten my family." At Draco's continued glare, she continued. "I will not be reuniting myself with the Death Eaters if they do come to call; however I do not believe that they will come. I still cannot speak for Lucius Draco. You will have to ask him yourself."
"And what if he says that he will? Am I just supposed to obliviate him so he doesn't know of my involvement against the Death Eaters?" Draco asked angrily, his eyes flashing.
Narcissa stopped in her food preparation and walked around the counter to stand besides her son. "Draco, I know you and Lucius have gone through some rough patches… And that you don't necessarily trust each other. However, he is still your father. I'm overjoyed that you and he have started to mend your relationship, even if your views now vary, but you need to discuss this with him. I have no control over what you do during or afterwards, but remember that he is your father, and he loves you very dearly…. As do I," she finished, placing a loving hand on his shoulder.
Draco sighed, his breathing returning to normal. "Alright," he consented. "Is he home?"
Narcissa nodded, returning to her cooking. "I believe he is in the study. If not there, try the library."
Draco thanked his mother and headed off in search of Lucius. If he was completely honest with himself; he wanted to walk right out of the door and never speak about the Death Eaters with his father ever again. It was a topic that he would much rather avoid; but because of his choices, the shadow of the Death Eaters would follow him for the rest of his life. Reaching his father's study, he knocked soundly on the door, waiting patiently for permission to enter.
"Enter," Lucius' commanding voice sounded through the deep oak wood of the door. Draco cleared his throat slightly, pulling the heavy wooden door open and entering the airy study space.
"Father, I have something to discuss with you," he said, standing stoically in front of Lucius.
"So I gathered," Lucius commented, refilling his wine glass. "Would you care for a drink?"
"I'd rather not," Draco replied tersely. "It would be better to just get this conversation over with as quickly as possible."
"Why? Are you afraid of my answer? Scared that I'll figure out that you're working under Potter's precious Order?" Lucius asked, a smirk spreading on his face at Draco's momentary shock.
After his moment of fear, Draco cleared his mind and wiped his visage of any emotion. "You don't know that anything you just said is remotely true."
Lucius laughed sharply. "You have never been able to hide things from your mother and I very well Draco. To some you might seem cold and unreadable, but when you're with us; your heart and mind are bleeding out for everyone to see. You may be right that I don't know for sure if what I have presumed is true, but you have my permission to correct me in any area of judgment where I may have erred," he finished mockingly, his gaze boring into Draco's.
Draco knew his silence would condemn him, but there was nothing he could think of to say in his defense.
"Nothing to say hm?" Lucius mused, a cold smirk lining his lips. "Well then you may as well present what you came here for in the first place."
Draco felt his temper flame for a split second at his father's blatant mocking, but he took a breath to calm himself, knowing that he would get nowhere by fighting with Lucius.
"I want to know if you plan on re-joining the Death Eaters," He said simply, his grey flashing in a challenge towards his father.
"You mean the rogues that have managed to escape Harry Potter and his band of Aurors? I'm not sure they qualify as Death Eaters," Lucius scoffed.
"You didn't answer the question," Draco replied flatly.
"Excuse me," Lucius shot back sarcastically. "Let me answer your question. I will not be rejoining the Death Eaters until they can provide an exemplary leader. One who exceeds even the Dark Lord."
"So you would rejoin if they rose to your expectations," Draco hissed through clenched teeth.
"Yes I would," Lucius responded. "The Death Eaters are the most respected pureblood group out there. And in case you have forgotten, we are purebloods."
"Respected?" Draco spat. "The Death Eaters absolutely no respect left. They are held about as high in esteem as a pile of garbage or dirt."
"Respect isn't about people loving you Draco," Lucius sneered. "Love is for lesser people. Respect is about fear. If others fear you, then they will follow you and heed to your every word. Love will get you nowhere in life."
"Fear. Is that the state you want to live your life in?" Draco said, not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice.
"It will not be me that is living in fear if I rejoin the Death Eaters Draco," Lucius replied. "It will be the people I encounter. However, with that being said, I do not believe the new 'Death Eaters' will approach me any time soon. They do not take kindly to people who have 'wavering' loyalties. This will have been the second time I have abandoned them and escaped punishment. There is no comeback from that."
"Good. It's time you figured out that the Death Eaters cannot offer you anything anymore," Draco hissed, not caring that he was blatantly disrespecting his father.
Lucius' eyes hardened. "And you still need to learn to embrace your heritage Draco. I had such high hopes for you; all throughout school you did well with domineering over your lessers. However, you have started a decline; unfortunately that is apparent in your way of thinking. It's ruining you."
"It has made me a better person father," Draco argued, furious with Lucius.
"You? A better person? Please Draco, do you really think your life was better than it was before? It may be if you are looking for a life filled with loneliness." At Draco's slightly confused stare, he continued. "What self-respecting woman would want to be with you son? In fact what would any woman want to do with you? You failed epically at being a pureblood; so what pureblooded girl would want to be tied to a tainted soul like yours? If you can't go with a pureblood girl, you'd think that you could go with a half-blood or…. A muggleborn? They won't take you either. What half-blood or other would want to take someone that had looked down on them their whole life? You think they want to marry someone who joined the Death Eaters and tried to wipe out their kind? Let me be clear Draco. No one will ever want you," Lucius finished harshly, knowing fully well that he was tearing his son apart.
Draco couldn't respond. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he felt sick to his stomach. The things his father had voiced, were things that constantly ran through his mind; things that scared him more than anything else. To be unwanted was his greatest fear; that is why he had been the person he was when he was young. It was all to please his father and be seen as worthy in his eyes. Failing to be a worthwhile Death Eater had not only seen him fail in his father's expectations, but he was tarnished and beaten beyond what anyone else would ever want. It hurt him to know that his father had come to the same conclusion, because not matter what he told himself, he still yearned for his father's praise and approval. He attempted to say something, anything. But his words stuck in his throat.
"I hope you got what you came here for Draco," Lucius said haughtily, although his tone was changed from his earlier statements. "I do care for you Draco. I want you to make something out of your life."
Draco nodded slightly, turning and leaving the room without another word to his father. Moments after Draco disappeared, Narcissa walked quietly into the room, taking a seat near her husband's desk.
"Draco just left without a word," She commented quietly. "What did you say to him?"
"That is between Draco and myself," Lucius replied, a slight note of finality in his voice.
Narcissa's blue eyes flashed, and Lucius saw her jaw visibly set. "Lucius, I have every right to know what you said to him. If we never see our son again because of this conversation, on Salazar's soul I had better have a reason, or so help me I will hex you into a state you have never been in before."
The look on present on Lucius' face hadn't changed during his wife's statements, save the slight raise of his right eyebrow. Inside however, he knew that if he didn't heed her warning, she would indeed go through with everything she had threatened him with. He mentally made a decision, but he could tell that Narcissa already knew.
"You told him you would rejoin," she stated, no hint of a question in her voice. Lucius nodded and she sighed. "Lucius you know that they will never approach us again because of what we've done…. Why did you have to tell him that you would join when you know there is no chance of that happening?"
"He needed to know that I'm not changing my ideals just because The Dark Lord is gone," Lucius stated, holding his wife's gaze.
"You told him what I revealed to you didn't you?" Narcissa asked, pain bleeding into her words. "That had no place in your conversation Lucius."
"It had it's own place where it was Narcissa," Lucius countered. "He can't hide what he is doing from us. Draco needs to understand how much Potter and his Order are going to damage his already soiled reputation."
Narcissa's eyes flamed. "Harry Potter may not be a boy of the standards that we normally hold in high regard, but he is the reason that we were able to find Draco in that final battle, and you know that. Without Harry Potter, Draco would have died inside the Room of Requirement and we never would have seen him again; final battle or not. I hold him in the highest esteem; he saved our son's life, and I can never repay him for that."
"You repaid him enough when you lied to the Dark Lord about the boy's death," Lucius scoffed. "I'd think that was quite enough payment for him."
Narcissa's eyes flashed and she tapped her finger angrily against the armrest of the chair. "Lucius, Draco is an adult now. He can make his own decisions and he doesn't need is to tell him what to believe anymore. It's not your place to try and alter the course of his life so it aligns with yours."
"Of course it's my place Narcissa. I'm his father, and I will always have some portion of control over my only son's life," Lucius replied calmly, scanning lazily through a thick volume.
"Lucius… I love you more than anything in this world, save Draco. Please don't do this," she pleaded, her anger and fear almost driving her to tears. "Your relationship with our son was on the mend, and I don't want it to be destroyed completely because you cannot let go of your precious pride for one moment and just be his father instead of the overbearing, harsh instructor."
Lucius looked ready to argue back, but thought better of it, simply nodding in compliance with his wife's commands, both spoken and unspoken. Narcissa's gaze softened, and she reached across the desk to grasp her husband's free hand; her petite fingers entwining with his larger masculine ones.
"I don't know exactly what you said to him Lucius, and I don't know that he'll ever come back or that either of us will ever see him again," she whispered. "But promise me that if he does, you'll try and fix things?"
Lucius didn't say anything, but his face took on a concentrated, pensive look.
"Please Lucius," Narcissa asked again; the edges of her vision wavering with unshed tears. "Please. You know I hardly ever ask anything of you… But will you do this one thing for me? For our family?"
His eyes flickered with something that Narcissa couldn't read, but he nodded, a glimmer of a smile floating around the edges of his mouth. "I promise Cissy. I promise."
...
Draco returned to the Manor immediately after his argument with Lucius; for an odd reason, it wasn't the first place he thought of, but he didn't dare going to Number 12 Grimmauld Place when he was so emotionally unbalanced. No, he needed to be alone…. Yet somehow he yearned to be around others to distract him from the over-whelming thoughts swirling through his mind. Without thinking, his feet took him upstairs to his bedchamber and out to the large balcony. He removed his dark robes, leaning heavily against the railing and losing touch with the world around him, not noticing when another person quietly entered the room.
"Malfoy?" the person queered quietly, causing him to jump slightly.
"Granger," he acknowledged, his voice low and weary.
"You're not going to ask what I'm doing in your house?" she asked, a quiet, teasing tone to her voice.
"At this point, I've realized that even if you're not supposed to be somewhere, you're going to stay anyways Granger," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "So there's really no use in throwing you out is there? Although I am curious about how you got in."
"Your house elf let me in," Hermione admitted, slipping her hands into her robe pockets.
"Wonderful," Draco replied, his voice void of any emotion.
They stood in silence, Draco not caring to talk and Hermione unsure of what to say in the hollow silence. Finally, she took a spoonful of her Gryffindor courage and dove right in.
"Can I ask you something?"
Draco didn't say anything, and although he didn't tell her she could question him, he didn't show signs of stopping her either, so she continued.
"Your aunt died correct?" she questioned rather hesitantly.
Draco sighed heavily, adjusting his weight so he was leaning less on the railing, and more on the balls of his feet. "Which aunt Granger?"
"Bellatrix," she answered quietly, averting her eyes so she wouldn't see his scathing look.
If she had looked however, she would have been surprised to see that his face held none of it's signature smirk or the scathing look she had been inspecting. Instead, his face was impassive and his answer was simple.
"Bellatrix is dead," he affirmed, his voice revealing no emotion connection.
Hermione sighed, anger and frustration being revealed. "Then how in Merlin's good name could that be possible?"
Draco turned to look at the witch besides him, a question written into his features.
"Your idiot friend and Katie Bell seem to think that Bellatrix is the Death Eater heading up all this nasty business," she huffed, her irritation obvious as she answered his unspoken question.
"Which idiot friend?"
"Blaise," she exclaimed. "That's what makes it even more outrageous. He's supposed to be grounded and level-minded!"
Draco snorted humorlessly. "Blaise has an extremely over-active imagination. Of course he thinks its Bellatrix."
"That's crazy though!" Hermione growled in frustration. "Katie doesn't have an imagination like that. She's a down to earth witch. I mean she works for St. Mungo's for Merlin's sake!"
Draco again remained silent, his mind again overwhelmed with his conversation with his father in the present silence.
Hermione looked over at the blond wizard besides her, wondering why he suddenly seemed so…. Displaced. Draco wasn't an outspoken person, but he wasn't necessarily one to keep his thoughts contained either; his silence was eerily off putting. As she watched him, she noticed the subtle movements of his features, like the way his eyes remained trained on something only he could see, the contents filled with a mass of thoughts and feelings, the way his brow furrowed slightly as he thought of something unpleasant, and the conceded firmness of his jaw, as he came to a conclusion with whatever was tormenting his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?" she queried softly, abandoning her crazed thoughts on the antics of Blaise and Katie.
"Nothing," Draco whispered in response.
Hermione's brow furrowed slightly at his answer, but she didn't press it any further. "Well thank you for the information on your aunt, but I should be going so I don't disrupt your evening any more. Thank you for your time," she finished with a soft smile, turning and leaving the room; wondering what had put such a damper on her fiery Slytherin co-worker.