Draco Undone

by Passo

Chapter 11: The Other Side of Love

Still very angry with Harry, Draco landed just outside the door of Malfoy Manor. He didn't have his own broom but he was able to rent a decent late model one from Hogsmeade. One of their house-elves, Toula, bowed and took the broom from him. He ignored her greeting and walked straight to the dining room instead, his parents would be eating around this time.

He was cold, he wasn't dressed for night flight on a chilly summer evening, but his rage was strong enough to make him ignore something as trivial as the weather. He was a fool, a stupid, idealistic fool! He and Harry never discussed exclusivity, Draco merely assumed it. He knew that, just like him, Harry had been with women before but he disregarded his dating history, deciding that the past did not matter.

He never analyzed his sexuality. He didn't think of other men as attractive, he saw them the way he had always viewed them when he was exclusively dating women. Sexuality, in Draco's mind, was not important. It was the person that mattered.

Harry… Harry was different. There was no one else in the world like him. Draco didn't care what he was, he only wanted Harry. All of him. The thought of sharing him made his chest hurt.

So this is what love does to you, he thought bitterly. He finally discovered the other side of love: the cruel, unforgiving part that could tear your heart and your soul apart and make you wish that you have never loved in the first place.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered

and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

~ Pablo Neruda

Narcissa stood as soon as Draco walked in the dining room. "Draco! What a lovely surprise!" she cried. She held out her arms and smiled as Draco walked into them and hugged her tight. Her son was now too tall for her to kiss his temple as she always did when he was small so she just compensated by squeezing him with delight.

Draco hid a smile as he returned his mother's embrace. Most people would never believe that Narcissa could be this affectionate in the privacy of their home. He believed that he inherited his way of loving from his mother - they only had room for a few and were indifferent, sometimes cold, to the rest of the world.

"Calm down, Narcissa, I'm sure the boy is hungry." Lucius' lips quirked slightly. He made no attempt to hug Draco or touch him in any way.

Draco was used to it. He knew his father deeply cared for his children - he remembered how devastated and broken Lucius was when his sister, Lavinia, died - he just was not the demonstrative type.

"Have you eaten dinner?" Narcissa asked, finally letting go of her son and guiding him to the chair next to her.

"A little," he replied. "But I could afford to eat more. I flew all the way from Hogsmeade."

Narcisa frowned. Her son looked troubled. She wanted to ask him why but she didn't want to pry. Draco had been so strong, he was the one who stayed steadfast when their family was at their weakest, tirelessly working to do everything he could to get her and Lucius out of Azkaban even when he battled with depression from losing his only sister. He had been the glue that held them together especially after their daughter's death and their incarceration. He was forced to grow up overnight and his mother learned to respect him as the man he had become.

But he's still so young, she thought sadly as she watched her son eat, looking almost exactly like Lucius when they met more twenty years ago. She decided to wait until Draco was comfortable enough to tell her what he has to say himself.

After dinner, Draco approached Lucius. "Father, can I talk to you?"

Lucius nodded. He turned to his wife, "Would you mind if Draco and I talk in the study?"

"Go ahead, dear." She gave them a smile. "I'm sure you have a lot of things to talk about. Draco and I have the whole night to catch up."

On the way to the study, Draco looked around with contentment. He had been feeling slightly homesick. He knew that most of the students in Hogwarts probably assumed that Malfoy Manor would be ancient, cold, and aloof, just like its owners. The house was certainly old, it has been with their family for centuries, but it was anything but bleak. They walked through the hall, passing paintings of their ancestors mixed with works of old masters that his mother and others before had collected over the years. One crabby looking great-uncle waved his walking stick at him and yelled, "Welcome back!" The crystal chandeliers provided a bright, warm light and plush carpet muffled their footsteps. Opulent? Yes. Austere? Not at all.

The first thing that greeted him as he entered the study was a large painting of him and his sister behind his father's desk. His parents had commissioned it the summer before he started in Hogwarts. Lavinia was only three, still chubby and cheerful, her silvery-blonde hair falling to her shoulders in ringlets as she looked at her older brother with adoration. Draco had just turned eleven. He remembered feeling smug, proud that he was almost an adult because he was going to Hogwarts soon. For Lavinia and Draco, life was good and perfect then... Too bad it didn't remain that way. She had never even seen Hogwarts, her life was stolen before she had the chance.

Instead of sitting behind his desk, Lucius turned the fireplace on with a spell and moved a couple of armchairs before it. He motioned for Draco to sit and he took the other chair, facing his his son at a slight angle.

"You wanted to talk about something?"

Draco took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy. "Father, when I was younger, we talked about having an heir."

Lucius raised his eyebrows, his grey eyes sharp. "Have you gotten someone pregnant?"

"No, no…" Draco laughed. But his amusement didn't last long. "I'm afraid it's the reverse. What if… what if I cannot give you an heir?"

Lucius stared at his son for a long moment. The silence stretched until Draco wondered if his father even heard him.

"I see." Lucius finally spoke and took a cigar out of his pocket. He lighted it and puffed quietly, his eyes never leaving the fire.

"When your mother and I were in Azkaban, they kept us in separate cells. It was hell on earth. I felt empty, all happiness sucked out of me. I did not even have the comfort of Narcissa's presence." He looked at the fire pensively, as if reliving those horrible days from almost a year ago. "For five months, all I could think about was my family. I was dying little by little inside, knowing that Lavinia's death was my fault. I nearly went mad with grief! My only source of strength was the thought of being with you and your mother again. I cared about nothing else - our wealth, family prestige, and every single material thing that I owned no longer meant anything to me. All I wanted was to see you and hold you and not let go."

Draco kept silent. He stared at Lucius with wide eyes. His father almost never spoke of his days in Azkaban, preferring to live their lives day by day, slowly recovering from the wounds left by war.

Lucius continued, his voice hoarse, "Something like that… it can change a person. If you came to me two years ago and said what you just said, I would be furious and demanded that you act like a true Malfoy and marry a pureblood girl who would give you children that would inherit it all," he sighed. "But I am no longer that person."

Lucius turned towards Draco. To the latter's surprise, his father's eyes looked moist and poignant, as if he was trying to control his tears. He stood and took his son's hand, quietly pulling him off the chair until they were eye to eye.

"Draco, everyday I've spent on earth ever since I left Azkaban has been a gift. I could have easily spent the rest of my life there… died there. When I saw you and your mother as soon as I got out, all I could think of was how lucky I was to see you again." Lucius rested his hands on Draco's shoulders and said, "Right now, all I want is for you to be happy. It does not matter how as long as you are."

Then, to Draco's astonishment, Lucius pulled him close and embraced him for the first time in a very long time.

Later, two men with matching light blond heads stood by the balcony of the study, enjoying the light breeze and clear evening skies.

"So," Lucius began, "who is he?"

Draco smiled. This was the big one. "Harry Potter."

"Ah."

"Well?"

"Not who I expected, but you certainly know how to pick them."

Draco laughed, relieved at his father's response.

"Still," Lucius continued, tapping the ash off his cigar, "I would still love it if you have an heir. Although it may be impossible considering your choice."

A hint of disappointment laced his father's tone. Draco couldn't blame him. He would have liked to have a son someday. He just happened to want Harry much more.

"Well," Draco said after a while, "nothing's written in stone yet."

After their recent fight, he wasn't sure where they were.

Draco swung into Sirius' front yard the next evening. He was exhausted. It rained briefly while he was in the air and his robe was still damp as he knocked on his cousin's door. "Sirius? It's me, Draco."

The door opened and Sirius' head popped out. "Come in, you must be tired and hungry."

"Very much so," Draco agreed. He left the rented broomstick on the porch and came in. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion. I know it's rather last minute but I couldn't just fly into Hogwarts."

"Don't worry about it," Sirius reassured him. "Give me a minute, I'll be back."

Sirius ran to the second floor and returned with a clean, black robe. "Here, you better change. Your robe's a mess."

"Thank you."

Sirius looked at him speculatively. "I'm glad you owled me this morning. You rarely come to see me these days."

"You know how it is. It hasn't exactly been easy."

His mother just recently restored her relationship with Sirius. Being on the opposite sides during the war made it difficult especially when the rest of the surviving cousins pretended that Sirius didn't even exist. Soon after her stint in Azkaban, Narcissa felt the need to reach out to her first cousin after she had a taste of what he went through for more than a decade. Before that, they had not spoken for almost twenty years. The relationship wasn't quite there yet, especially since Lucius remained distant and a little disapproving. But Narcissa was the one who encouraged Draco to communicate with his second cousin, noting that they did not have a lot of family members left. She was also the one who suggested that Draco owl Sirius and ask him to take him back to Hogwarts. As a teacher, Sirius could come and go anytime.

Though they were not close, Draco had an easier time reconnecting with Sirius than his mother did. Perhaps because they did not have old wounds to heal.

More than an hour later, Draco awkwardly got off the black motorcycle, wincing with discomfort. "I will never understand why you like that thing so much."

"Isn't she a beauty?" Sirius looked at his bike lovingly. "She's faster than any broomstick."

"I know. I was terrified that I would fall off while we were in the air," Draco complained.

His cousin laughed. "You're not the only one. Pansy hates it, too. By the way," his tone turned serious, "this might be a little uncomfortable for you but I don't know when I'll see you again outside class. Harry told me about the two of you a few days ago."

"He did?" Draco asked, stunned. He swore inwardly. Draco knew that Sirius was Harry's godfather, he just didn't know the extent of their relationship. He didn't realize that they were close enough for Harry to trust his godfather with intimate information. "What did he say?"

"All good things," he answered simply. "He also came to see me this morning."

Draco couldn't reply. He was too upset to say anything - not at Sirius but at Harry. The memory of what happened the night before was still fresh.

"He's very sorry about yesterday," Sirius said calmly, seeing how upset Draco had become. He lay a reassuring hand on his cousin's arm. "He wants to talk to you, said he needed to explain a few things."

"I'm sure," Draco said hollowly. He wondered what excuse Harry was going to use.

Sirius shook his head. "It's not like that. I know Harry. He's a very good person and he will never lie to anyone he cares about. And he made it clear that he cares about you." Sirius cracked a smile. "He cares about you a lot."

Draco tried to smile back. He wanted to believe Sirius so badly. But caring was a lot different from loving and he didn't know where his place was in Harry's life.

"Anyway, it's getting late. You better go to bed, I'll return the rent-a-broom myself tomorrow."

"Thanks again for the ride." Draco waved goodbye as Sirius left, the roar of his motorcycle fading into the night.

As Draco entered the castle, he realized something he missed from his conversation with Sirius earlier.

Pansy? What did she have to do with anything?

TBC

(August 2015)

Author's Note I always found it interesting when someone calls Draco in some fanfics OOC whenever he does or says something remotely nice. Harry Potter canon was written from Harry's POV and, as far as Harry is concerned, Draco is despicable indeed. After all, Draco didn't make life easy for Harry and his friends.

But what about Draco's POV? Does he have a favorite color, food or hobby? Who is the Draco that Gryffindors don't see? What is he like when he's relaxed and comfortable with the Slytherins? What does he do when he's with his family? Being universally mean 24/7 is more exhausting than one thinks.

I applied this logic to most Slytherins in Draco Undone including Draco's parents. Since 80% of the fic is written from the POV of the Slytherin characters, especially Draco, then it's only logical that we see their more private side. Even in canon, Slytherins never really did socialize with students from other houses. They kept to themselves and treated those outside their circle with disdain. No wonder a lot of fanfic writers are fascinated by them. We end up writing fanfics about their private lives, filling the blanks with our imagination.

Please review if you liked it :-)

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