Live Like No One's Watching
"Draco, darling, could I ask a favour of you?"
Draco glanced up from the book he was reading to see his mother standing in the doorway of the little sitting room. He'd been occupying himself while she was upstairs trying to coax Lucius out of his study – where he spent most of his time nowadays – but was glad to have her company.
"Of course," he replied with a smile.
"Well it's just … I was wondering … there's this party at the home of an old friend of mine next weekend and she's asked me to attend. As you know, I haven't really been getting out much lately and, well, it would be lovely to see everyone again. I've been so nervous about going out because of how people are bound to be judging me and condemning me, but I think I'm finally ready."
"That's great," Draco said, genuinely pleased for his mother – who was naturally a sociable person and had clearly been suffering trapped in this house with his currently very unsociable father – but failing to see what part he had to play in this.
"Yes, it is. It's just that your father point blank refuses to attend the party with me and I'm not sure I'm brave enough to go out there on my own just yet. Would you … would you go with me, Draco?"
Draco's immediate instinct was to say that it was absolutely out of the question. He didn't want to stand around at some boring party – of the sort he'd been dragged to as a child – making polite, meaningless conversation with everyone and trying to pretend he couldn't see people's judgmental gazes and barely concealed whispering as they wondered how he dared show his face in public after everything he'd done. He couldn't go to that party. It was unthinkable.
But then he saw the expression on his mother's face. This was very important to her. It was alright for him – he had his job at the Leaky Cauldron and his friends there, who had recently taken to inviting him out with them sometimes – but she never left the house except to go out into the garden. Her (very well-paid) house-elf took care of any necessary shopping and errands, and she stayed at home looking after Lucius. It struck him how incredibly unselfish she'd been. This was the first time she'd asked for something for herself in … he didn't even know how long. She spent hours caring for his father, whom she would do almost anything for, but who6 did nothing for her in return, and had never once complained about it. In addition, she had put with Draco during his antisocial period when he'd only dropped in every so often and generally had only done so to start an argument, and then when he'd been upset about Astoria she'd supported him and made time for him whenever he'd needed her. Surely the least he could do in return was go to some stupid party?
And besides, it would probably be easier for him than it would be for her. After all, he'd had a lot more practice at this than her. He'd been working in the Leaky Cauldron for several months now, and had learned how to deal with the various different ways that people reacted to him, and had discovered that the reactions themselves were never as bad as the dread of them. His mother didn't know that, though, and this was an incredibly brave step for her to take. It was time for him to be the strong one and support her in this. It was time for him to be a better man than his father.
He was suddenly reminded of that conversation he'd had with Astoria about his parents. "They love you," she'd said, and she'd been right. Well, about his mother at least. He still wasn't sure about his father. He suddenly found himself feeling very ashamed of the way he'd talked about them to Astoria, who had been, at the time, practically a stranger. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys stuck by their family, regardless of what they might have done. Of course, his predecessors had hardly done as wonderful a job as they might have liked to think they had, he thought sadly, thinking of his mother's sister, exiled for marrying a muggleborn. But that was going to change. He was going to make every effort to bring back all the good things the Malfoy name had once stood for.
"Of course I'll go with you," he said to his mother, "Just let me know what time to pick you up."
"Really?" she looked absolutely astonished, "You mean it? You'll go with me?" Draco cringed a little at what she must have been expecting from him.
"Absolutely. I'd be honoured to." He mock-bowed to her, kissing her hand, "And what time should I call for you, my lady?" She laughed, an occurrence that hadn't been very common lately, and was almost never inspired by him.
"I believe seven o'clock would be appropriate, sir," she replied with a little curtsy, and they both began to laugh again. Then, unexpectedly, she began to cry.
"What's the matter, mother?" Draco asked, aghast, "Did I do something wrong? What's upset you?"
"Oh it's just … I'm being silly … it's just that your father used to … he used to do that. My parents were so dreadfully stuck up and old-fashioned and they had all these ridiculous rules about how a "gentleman" ought to behave. So when Lucius was courting me – isn't that such a funny, old-fashioned word? – he used to behave like that, but he'd be ridiculously over the top about it. And of course we knew that he was joking, but my parents couldn't see it at all and thought he was absolutely wonderful, so we had to try very hard not to laugh. Sometimes, and dinner parties and things, he'd get worse and worse in an attempt to make me start giggling, and I'd have to keep a very straight face in front of all my parents' posh, important friends. It was our little private joke. And I know it's silly and sentimental of me to start crying about that but I just …" she subsided into sobs, and Draco pulled her into a hug.
"He'll come back to you," he said softly, "It's going to take him a little longer than us to adjust to this, but he will eventually. It's just that for years he's based his entire identity on power and influence and high social standing, and it's hard for him to lose that. He's not ready to accept that society has changed, and maybe he never will be, but he's going to realise that he still has you, and that that's what matters, more than any of that other stuff. It may not happen quickly, but I promise you that it will happen." It felt odd to be the one giving advice to his mother, and not so long ago he wouldn't have dared to make a promise like that, but in that moment he knew it was the truth. Narcissa looked up at him through tear-speckled eyelashes.
"When did you get so wise?" she asked.
"I don't know," Draco replied, "I really don't."
"You're coming to the party with me this Saturday, right?" Daphne asked. Astoria looked up in annoyance from the book Daphne had just disturbed her in reading.
"I thought you were going with Theo?"
"I am, but a load of his mates are going too, and a group of guys can be so boring to hang out with for an entire evening, and I was hoping you'd come so I'd have at least one girl to talk to. Please say you'll come, Tori!"
"But I'll be the only one without a date," Astoria sighed, "And I know perfectly well that when the dancing starts you'll go off and dance with Theo for hours on end and leave me to all the old men who couldn't dance well to save their lives, or worse, to sit at the side and not be asked to dance at all."
"Please, Tori," Daphne wheedled, "I'm sure one of Theo's mates would dance with you. They can't all have girlfriends." Astoria rolled her eyes. Theo's mates were mainly a bunch of imbecilic idiots who struggled to form words longer than two syllables, meaning they had trouble merely pronouncing her name, but she knew Daphne would keep on at her until she agreed, and Daphne could be very persuasive when she wanted to.
"Oh alright," she agreed, "But I am not dancing with Goyle."
The party had been described on the invitation as "a small, informal gathering" but Draco, with all his experience of parties of this sort, was unsurprised to discover on arrival that it consisted of around one hundred guests. Purebloods didn't do things by halves.
Not that this party was exclusively a pureblood one, as once would have been the case. Draco could pick out a good many muggleborns, as well as families who would once have been defined as "blood traitors". Things truly were changing.
He and his mother had paused at the doorway. She was very pale.
"You're going to be fine," he told her. She gave him a wan smile.
"I suppose so," she said, "It's just hard to believe that right now." He offered her his arm.
"Everything's going to be great," he said, "I'll make sure of it." She slipped her arm through his, and together they stepped out of the shadowy doorway and into the large ballroom.
There was a gasp throughout the room. Astoria looked round from an unsurprisingly boring conversation she was having with a couple of Theo's friends to discover that the cause of the consternation was two people who had just stepped into the room.
Her first thought was that they were a striking pair, the woman beautiful in a quiet, understated way that nonetheless held the promise that she could be absolutely dazzling if she wished, the man incredibly handsome.
Her second thought was that she'd never seen Draco dressed so smartly before, but that it certainly suited him.
Her third though wasn't really very coherent as it suddenly struck her that Draco was here.
For a split second she found herself incredibly jealous of the beautiful woman on his arm, before realising that, beneath that elegant beauty, she was much older than him, and was in fact Narcissa Malfoy, his mother.
"Astoria? Are you alright?" Daphne's voice forced Astoria to tear her eyes from Draco and assemble her face into something vaguely resembling calm.
"Yes, yes I'm fine."
Nothing had ever been further from the truth.
Although the initial reaction was one of shock that Narcissa Malfoy had finally emerged from Malfoy Manor and re-joined the rest of the world, people lost interest much faster than Draco had expected, and his mother relaxed. She was soon flitting between her friends, laughing and talking as she always had. Although Draco was happy to see her returned to her natural place in life, he was at a loss as to what to do with himself.
Suddenly, across the room, he spotted an old friend from Hogwarts – Theo Nott. While most of his old friends weren't exactly eager to hang out with him anymore, he reckoned Theo would probably be happy enough with his company for a little while. Making his way slowly through the large groups of people, he headed towards his old friend.
Theo spotted him when he was still a little way away.
"Draco!" he called, walking towards him, "It's great to see you again. It's been ages since we last talked." They fell silent for a moment. The last time they had, in fact, talked was just before the Battle of Hogwarts, when Theo had said he was staying to fight with his girlfriend for the DA. Draco had told him that he was a fool, and was picking the losing side. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms.
"I'm sorry about … you know," Draco said quietly.
"Don't worry about it," Theo said, and that was it. No recriminations or anger, simply instant forgiveness. Draco found himself regretting having not made more effort to be proper friends with Theo when they were at Hogwarts.
"You remember Daphne, of course," Theo was saying, leading Draco over to the little group he'd been standing with, "And I don't know if you've met her sister, Astoria."
Draco froze. Slowly, he met Astoria's gaze. She looked less surprised than him; she'd obviously known he was here. Her face remained very calm, but he could see her debating something. All her emotion was in her eyes, and he'd learned to read those eyes better than most people.
"Draco," she said eventually, "We need to talk." Grabbing his hand, she dragged him away to a quieter corner of the room, ignoring the exclamations of surprise from their companions.
"There's nothing to talk about," Draco said dully as she turned to face him, "You never stopped loving Matthew. That's all there is to it. Talking of Matthew, I don't see him here tonight. Couldn't he make it?" He tried not to let bitterness creep into his voice. It wasn't her fault after all.
Astoria looked at him very sadly.
"Draco, will you listen to me, just for a few minutes? Just listen and don't interrupt and if you want to leave after I've finished then I won't argue with you." Draco sighed. He didn't want to hear apologies and explanations. That would just make it more painful. But when she looked at him like that he couldn't refuse her anything.
"Go ahead," he said, "I'll listen." She took a deep breath.
"I tried to come after you and explain that day," she said, "But you wouldn't wait, and then I thought that maybe you just didn't want to be with me, and I thought maybe it was better to let you go. But seeing you here tonight, I know I can't do that. I have to explain, even if it doesn't make a difference.
"You didn't let me finish, the day Matthew came back. I started a sentence but you didn't let me finish, and what I wanted to say was this: I never stopped loving Matthew, because I never loved him in the first place. I thought I did, but it was really just a kind of admiration because he seemed like such a perfect boyfriend, and I felt like I should be in love with him. And maybe I would have carried on thinking that I'd been in love with him, if it wasn't for that day. When he walked into the café and I saw him next to you, I realised that I wasn't in love with him – and never had been – because I finally knew what it was like to be in love. What I'd felt for him seemed ridiculously fake and superficial, compared to what I felt for you. I'm in love with you, Drake, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realise it. I think all that stuff with Matthew was holding me back, because I'd thought I loved him, and somehow I couldn't move on from that, but when I saw him it all suddenly became so much clearer. You were a friend to me when I most needed a friend, and you brought hope to my life when I thought I'd lost it. I love you, Drake, and I don't think I can bear to lose you. Please tell me it's not too late."
She stopped and looked at him. Draco was speechless. Of all the things he'd expected her to say to him, this hadn't been one of them. To be told that he was valued far above Matthew – in fact, to be told that he was valued at all – wasn't something he had been expecting, and it was hard to believe that anyone could ever be upset to lose him.
"I …" he began, then realised that no words could ever do his feelings justice. Very slowly, he leaned in and kissed her.
"Oi, Malfoy! Get your hands off my sister!" a voice broke into their perfect moment, and they sprang apart guiltily. Daphne was standing with her hands on her hips, Theo hovering nervously behind her.
"Would anyone care to explain this to me?"
Astoria stepped closer to Draco, and took his hand.
"Don't go all protective and silly, Daph," she said. This did nothing to calm Daphne down.
"You'd better not be using her, Malfoy," she said warningly, "We may have been friends once, but I wouldn't trust you with my socks, never mind my sister. If you hurt her–"
"I can assure you I would never dream of using Astoria. I … I love her, and I'd rather die than hurt her."
"Oh I'm sure that could be arranged," Daphne said threateningly, but her face had softened a little. She looked between the two of them. Draco was aware he had a rather soppy look on his face, but somehow couldn't bring himself to care.
"Oh alright," Daphne said resignedly, "But make sure you take care of her." Theo grinned and took a step forward.
"Speaking as someone who's been in love with a Greengrass for years," he said, "you have no idea what you've just let yourself in for, mate."
After they'd talked to Daphne and Theo for a few minutes, Draco took her hand, saying, "It's about time you met someone," and pulled her away.
"Mother," he said as they discovered Narcissa standing watching the dancers, "This is Astoria Greengrass. Astoria, this is my mother."
Narcissa looked her quickly up and down, and she had the rather disconcerting feeling of being completely analysed. Then she glanced at her son, and her face softened into a smile.
"Astoria," she said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Not that Draco's actually mentioned you by name before, but your impact on his life has been fairly obvious. Thank you for bringing my son back to me."
Somehow Astoria knew she wasn't talking about physically bringing him back to her, and she found herself instantly warming to this beautiful, gentle and yet at the same time very strong, woman.
"It's a pleasure to meet you too," she said with a smile.
"Now if you'll excuse me Astoria," Draco said, turning to his mother, "I believe I am owed a dance."
Astoria watched as Draco led his mother out onto the dance floor. The intimacy between the two of them was obvious, and she found herself smiling as she watched Narcissa throw back her head and laugh at something Draco had said. It was a very open laugh, one that didn't match the composed, outwardly rather cold Narcissa Malfoy Astoria had known before the war. She was sure the old Narcissa had laughed like that, but not in public. Obviously the war had gone some way towards straightening out her priorities and softening her pride a little.
At the end of the dance, the two returned to Astoria's side, Narcissa's cheeks flushed like she was seventeen again and finishing her very first dance, Draco smiling in a way that had become more common recently.
"And now I have stolen you away from your much younger and much prettier young lady for far too long," Narcissa said, gesturing to Astoria, "Draco, you must not neglect her. Astoria, he is all yours."
"I wouldn't dream of neglecting Astoria, Mother," Draco replied, and then, suddenly very sincere, "But you will always be beautiful, no matter how old you are."
He turned away then to fetch some drinks, and Narcissa moved off to talk to a friend, but not before Astoria saw the tears glistening in her eyes.
When he returned with the drinks, Draco found Astoria standing alone, watching the dancers with a little smile on her face. She took the drink from him and sipped at it absentmindedly. They stood for a few minutes in silence.
"You're so sweet with your mother," Astoria said eventually, "escorting her here and dancing with her and saying all the right things. I think she really appreciates it." Draco nodded sadly.
"I may be saying the right things," he said, "But I'm the wrong person to be saying them. She wants my father to be here. It ought to be him making a fuss of her and treating her like a princess and asking her to dance. She loves dancing, but it's him she wants to be dancing with, not me." Astoria nodded understandingly. Then, a smile brightening her face, she grabbed his hand.
"Talking of dancing," she said cheerfully, "I don't believe we've danced yet."
Draco pulled his hand away.
"Are you sure?" he asked, "Do you want to be seen dancing with me? I'm hardly the most popular person in the room." He'd been able to feel people's gazes on him all evening, their accusing stares and indignant whispering. It had been alright when he and his mother had danced, standing up together against the criticism, supporting one another, but he wasn't sure he wanted to subject Astoria to the disapproval and hostility that came with being associated with him.
Astoria sighed.
"Draco," she said, taking his hand again, "Just for once, will you pretend that there's nobody watching us? Just for once will you forget what everybody else thinks and live the way that you want to? Do it for me. Just this once."
And, just this once, he did.