10. A trip to the Lakes

Dear Son,

I have moved to the house in Paris, as the vineyards will soon hibernate. The last of the grapes have been picked and the Elves assure me the quality of the wine will be exceptional this year.

I have been invited to several house parties since I came to Paris, the Montforts, Dammartins, and Amboises have welcomed me with open arms. I wish you would reconsider moving to France, Son, so we could continue our life on much the same footing as it was before the War, if in another country.

I've also reconnected with many old acquaintances. Do you remember Sylvie de la Trémoille? She and I were such good friends when we were younger. She has a lovely daughter, Aurélie, whom, I am sure, it would please you to know. So accomplished and so kind, such elegance one hardly sees even in the young ladies of our acquaintance in Britain.

I do miss you, dearest Son, and I am considering a Yuletide visit. Surely you can accommodate your only living relation for a few days? I would so dislike for us to spend the holiday apart. Let me know when you have organised a Portkey.

With love

Mother

Draco rolled up the parchment with a sigh, and only just refrained from throwing it in the fire. She would want to see him at Yule. The Lodge had a guest bedroom, so he would be able to accommodate her, but the prospect filled him with apprehension. Even just receiving a letter from her disrupted his peace, bringing back nightmares and bouts of anxiety he still found it hard to overcome.

But he shook off the reluctance and wrote the obligatory answer. Much as he would prefer not to see her, he was even less inclined to spend this Yule alone - or with just the Zabinis, now the relationship between Blaise and Hermione Granger seemed to be developing into something serious.

Draco hardly saw his friend these days, except when the Potters and Miss Granger also joined the family. Draco knew Blaise had been to Malfoy Manor several times to visit them, but the idea of going back there himself was too upsetting to consider. It was one thing to lose his childhood home, and knowing he could never have it back - not really wanting it back - but visiting others who had made it their home was one step too far.

His friendship with Potter - Harry - was blossoming, and Draco enjoyed their weekly games. He'd entertained the Potters at the Lodge a few times, and he was enchanted by Mrs. Potter. She made the most ridiculous observations that somehow always seemed to be on point.

The first time he had invited Harry and Luna Potter over, she had walked into the sitting room, stopped right in the middle and just stood there, staring, turning slowly on her heel. Then she had smiled, in that vague way of hers, given him a tight hug and said, "The Wrackspurts won't stay forever, Draco, rest assured."

He'd blinked and Harry had chuckled, and that had launched a long conversation about creatures Draco was fairly certain did not actually exist. But at the end of the conversation, he'd understood that Wrackspurts apparently dwelled in the houses of those who are unhappy, as they thrive on negative emotions, and even if there were no such things, she had tried to comfort him and give him hope that life would get better soon.

Blaise seemed to be spending all his time with Miss Granger, and even Mrs. Potter had commented on the Nargles that were floating around their heads when they were together. Draco had become numb to any mention of Blaise and Miss Granger. He still felt a ragged tear where once his heart had been, and the first few times spent in their company had been agony. But the pain had dulled from sharp cuts to an almost mild discomfort when he was in their presence, and the occasional painful twinge when he recognised the smile she used to wear only for him. He could see them together and not feel jealous, or sad, or regretful. He had learned to accept that those dreams were over. He understood now that though she was not completely indifferent to his discomforts - she had, after all, defended him against Ronald Weasley, saved him from those blasted Pixies and pressed him to Apparate back to the Zabini estate when she'd noticed his limp - she had no intention of returning to the intimate footing they were once on.

The last hearing at the Wizengamot had gone well. Harry had accompanied him and just sat, quietly, behind Draco during the presentation of the final arguments. Bones and Goldstein had adapted their speeches to one another, craftily pushing the Wizengamot towards a decision that the Ministry could live with and that would return Draco to a state of respectability and independence. The verdict had yet to be communicated, though, and Draco had the impression even the imperturbable Goldstein was getting a little anxious waiting for their decision. But waiting was all he could do, while October turned into November and the trees lost their lustrous colours in the autumn storms.

Just as Draco signed the letter to his mother, there was a knock on the door, and a few moments later, Blaise stepped into the sitting room.

"Draco! I hope I'm not interrupting?"

Draco rolled up the parchment and tied it to the leg of the waiting owl.

"Just sending a letter to Mother. She will be visiting in December."

"That is… unexpected."

Draco made a non-committal sound as he brought the owl to the window and cast warming and impervius charms on it. The owl hooted and nibbled one of his fingers affectionately and then flew away with a few strong beats of his wings.

"What brings you here?" he asked, turning to Blaise and motioning him to sit down in one of the armchairs near the fire. He poured them each a glass of firewhiskey and then settled into the opposite armchair.

"My mother came back today from visiting Theo and Daphne," Blaise said.

"Theo Nott and Daphne Greengrass?" Draco interrupted, surprised.

"Daphne Nott, now, but yes. Theo is her godson, you know. They have just had their first baby, a little girl, Elladora. They live in the Lake District, some faraway village or other. My mother was waxing so lyrically about the place this afternoon, and the ladies and I are now so curious to see it that we put a scheme together to go visit the Notts for a few days. We would love for you to come along, I am sure Theo and Daphne would be thrilled to see you again, and a change of scenery will do us all good. Apparently, the landscape is pretty desolate so late in the year, but still beautiful in its bleakness."

Draco snorted. "No need to get lyrical yourself, Blaise. Who is going on this excursion?"

Blaise ticked them off on his fingers. "Well, me, of course, and the Potters and Hermione. Flora's staying behind, she had other plans. So, what do you say, are you coming, too?"

Draco considered the request. He would love to see Theo and Daphne, and their little girl, of course. He had not seen them since Hogwarts, but then, to be fair, he had not been in touch with many of his friends during the War, and those he had seen, he never wanted to see again. But it did mean being in close quarters with Hermione Granger for longer than a few hours. He hesitated, but his desire to reconnect with his friends was too great.

"Yes, of course, I'd love to see Theo and Daphne again. When are we leaving?"

They left on Friday morning. Theo had sent them a Portkey, since none of them had ever been to his house before, and they arrived at the Nott's house in the pouring rain. Theo had been waiting for them and quickly cast a couple of rain repellent charms on his guests before ushering them into the drawing room.

"Blaise, wonderful to see you again, it really has been too long. Who did you bring?"

Blaise introduced him to Hermione Granger and the Potters, and then gestured at his oldest friend.

"You remember Draco, of course."

"Malfoy. Yes." Theo sounded cool and uninterested.

"He has been living at the Lodge since his father's sentence was executed. You know they confiscated all the Malfoy properties and gave Lucius the Kiss? No extenuating circumstances, he kept Draco under the Imperius curse for years, so he was responsible for his own crimes as well as his son's. I'm only sorry I never tried to get him out of there," Blaise said, correctly deducing that his friend was less than pleased to have a former Death Eater in his house.

Nott's whole demeanor changed at Blaise's explanation, though.

"The Imperius?" he whispered. Draco could feel the gaze of everyone in the room on him, but he focused his eyes on Theo Nott.

"You know what my father was like, Nott," he said, with wry humour. "If it wasn't the Imperius, it was the Cruciatus. Never one to avoid the Unforgivables, old Lucius." He was sure he heard a gasp from somewhere in the room, but he refused to look away.

Theo crossed the space between them in a few steps and threw his arms around Draco.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," he said, his voice a little unsteady.

"Nothing you did," Draco muttered, patting Theo's shoulder awkwardly.

Then Theo let go, catching his gaze.

"No, Draco. I'm sorry I believed you were really one of them. I thought you'd changed your mind. I gave up on you. And I'm so sorry."

Draco blinked away the emotions that threatened to surface.

"It's in the past now, Theo, please do not mention it," he said, looking away uncomfortably.

The silence in the room was stifling until the soft cry of a baby reminded them that there were others in the house.

"My wife and her sister are in the nursery," Theo explained as he motioned for them to sit down. "The house elves will take your luggage up to your rooms, so sit down, have a drink, and tell me what has been happening."

The conversation flowed easily between them, though Draco kept to himself and mainly listened.

It transpired that Theo and Daphne Nott had married about a year after they graduated from Hogwarts. Theo had been afraid his father would make him join the Death Eaters, and had managed to convince him to put off his Marking until after the wedding, but on their wedding night, the couple disappeared. Daphne had chosen the house, an old, abandoned Muggle mansion in the Tudor style in a remote part of the Lake District. They put their home under the Fidelius Charm and had remained in hiding for the past five years.

A young woman he did not recognise entered the room, and Draco stood up, his upbringing demanding the courtesy. She looked familiar but he could not remember her name.

"Astoria, these are our guests. Maybe you remember them from Hogwarts? Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger, Luna Potter, Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy. This is my sister-in-law, Astoria Greengrass." After Theo's introduction, Draco had a vague recollection of a whisp of a girl in Slytherin robes nagging Daphne in the common room, but he would never have made the connection otherwise. Though she had dark blond hair like Daphne, her face was rounder, her nose and mouth a different shape, and her eyes so dark they almost seemed black. She had an aura of sadness about her, and Draco thought she might have been attractive, if not for her depressing demeanor.

Draco discovered she had been living with the Notts for three years and had lost her fiance in the last few weeks of the War. He understood from Theo that the marriage had been arranged, but Miss Greengrass had taken the loss very badly, and still suffered from a broken heart and shattered dreams. She sat in a bay window a volume of poetry in her hand, staring out the window with a forlorn look on her face.

Daphne Nott joined the group soon after, holding her baby in her arms, and everyone gushed over the child, who had Theo's watery green eyes and Daphne's nose, or so they soon agreed. Draco really had no opinion on the matter, as all babies looked exactly the same to him. The baby sparked conversation about the Potters' family plans and barely veiled insinuations about Blaise and Hermione, each of them getting flustered and teasing back in turn. Although he didn't take part in the teasing, Draco enjoyed the easy banter of the others. It made his life almost feel normal. He could almost imagine himself back in the Slytherin common room, laughing and joking with his friends, before everything went wrong.

Draco had taken a dislike to Miss Greengrass on their first meeting, but because the others always walked together, he ended up as her companion on their walks and at meals. It only made him more resentful of her. She always wanted to discuss the gloomy poetry she was reading, and Draco had no patience for her affected voice and dramatic poses, so when she started up another conversation about the abysmal poetry she loved to read over dinner the next day, he cut her off quickly.

"I think you should perhaps read some more fiction novels, Miss Greengrass. I'm sure Theo and Daphne have books from writers other than these dreary poets. Maybe you will feel better about life if you read something with a happy ending?"

"Oh, I shall never feel happy about life again," Miss Greengrass sighed with resignation. "When my Monty died, so unfortunate, only two weeks before the final battle, you see, I knew I should never love again. These poems, they just express the feelings in my heart so well. It's like I can't put my emotions in words until I read these lines, and then I know, this, this is what I feel." She ended her statement with another dramatic sigh, to which Draco could only just refrain from rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure you will feel differently, if you start reading different books," Draco repeated with barely contained irritation.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, how could you understand? You don't know what it is like to lose the love of your life, lose your reason to live. It's like I will never see the sun again, like birds will sing no more, I…"

"I understand better than you think," Draco interrupted coldly. "I can assure you I know what it's like to feel your heart being ripped out of your chest, piece by piece, as if you are caught in a never-ending Cruciatus Curse. But you mourn the loss of your dreams, not the loss of a person. You only talk of the life you will not have, not the man you'll never see again. Of course, losing someone means you lose the dreams of the life you were going to have together. But it also means you lose that person, you'll never see her smile again, you'll never hear her laugh, you'll never again hear her voice, urging you to do something or feel her hand in yours. You only have memories that cut through your heart every time you're reminded of her. That is not the pain you feel. Grow up, Miss Greengrass. You are still young and the world is at your feet. You have your life before you, now the War is over and your family name escaped untarnished. So go out and live, for Merlin's sake. Stop acting like the injured heroine in one of those cheap Veela romance novels."

Miss Greengrass shrieked angrily, flung her fork on the table and stormed off.

Silence rang heavy across the table, and Draco looked around, only to see everyone staring at him. Daphne held a hand over her mouth, to hide the smile she couldn't stop, Draco suspected from the sparkle in her eyes. Theo looked approving, Harry pitying and Mrs. Potter had a smile on her face that came close to a smirk - although Luna Potter never smirked. Draco reluctantly let his eyes travel to Hermione, but he was disappointed he could not read her reaction. She avoided his eyes, staring intently at her plate.

"I apologise," Draco began, but Theo cut in quickly. "There is no need. We've been trying to tell her this for months now. She never really knew Graham Montague, it was an arranged marriage. The Montagues and Greengrasses both tried to remain neutral during the War and they thought a marriage between the families would make them both stronger. Astoria had her head filled with romantic stories and fanciful ideas of their life together, and when he died, the dreams died with him. It's about time someone told her to stop acting like a child whose favourite toy was taken away. We've been far too lenient with her."

They shared a look of understanding and returned to the meal. Slowly conversation started again, but Draco could not pay attention. He was relieved his friends did not hold his outburst against him, but laying his emotions bare to the scrutiny of his friends, and seeing the reason for his pain sitting only a few seats away, knowing she must have heard his confession and understood what he meant, was beyond mortifying.

He excused himself after dinner, eager to escape the company of his friends, but he did not get away before promising to join the group on a country walk the next day.

AN: Persuasion lovers will excuse my butchering of the character of poor Captain Benwick, whose suffering I should never dream of treating lightly. But then he is not the only character I have turned upside down in this rendition, and he will not be the last...

Special thanks to hobbit penguin who beta'd for me, any remaining mistakes are my own.

Thank you so, so much for all the reviews on the last chapter! I love you all and I shall be responding soon.

Poor Draco. I am putting him through the wringer, aren't I?