Author's note: Yeah I'm terrible for updating so late. Anywho, thank you my reviewers, I love your reviews, they all make me smile. So please enjoy.
As I bring my bite of beef wellington to my lips there is a crack beside me and I pause and look over to see that a house elf now stands at my right side. I take the bite, enjoy the taste, swallow, and then acknowledge the elf.
"Yes?"
"A letter has arrived for you, Sir."
I set down my fork and take the slim envelope and letter opener from the silver letter platter the elf holds out to me. I give it a nod of dismissal and there is another crack to signal its disapperation as I flip the envelope over to look at the crest, it is the Ministry's crest, more specifically the Auror's seal. Curious I take the thin blade and cut through the intricate mass of wax and then pull out the one piece of parchment from the envelope.
I shrug and slip the parchment into one of my robe pockets and leave the rest for the elves to take care of.
"Who has written to you?" Aunt Andromeda asks conversationally. She has arrived back at the Manor this afternoon after having spent the last few days away visiting old friends.
"The Auror Department has sent me the means of receiving my payment for a business deal we conducted."
Aunt Andromeda nods and takes a delicate bite of her bread, I admire that although she spent most of her life married to a Muggle she still retains her high society breeding.
"Father, what is a Auror?"
"An Auror," I begin to explain to my son as I prepare my next bite, "is a law enforcer for the Wizarding community; they catch all of the villains in society."
Scorpius nods and takes a drink of his milk and in my peripheral vision I see him pause and then slowly set down his milk glass as if deliberating. While I eat my beef wellington I wonder what he could possibly be deliberating.
"Father?"
"Yes?" I bring my wine goblet up to my lips, I wonder were Scorpius got his inquisitive side from, I have noticed that at some times he likes to ask things.
"Did you fight in the war?"
I nearly spit out my drink of wine and I feel all of the colour drain from my face; I force my drink down my throat.
"War?" I repeat and look at him sharply. He seems to squirm lightly, but not enough to give up.
"Albus mentioned that his Father and family fought in it and that they were heroes, I was wondering if you were also a hero."
My heart constricts and I begin to breath irregularly. I had never thought this discussion would be brought up, well at least not while Scorpius is so young.
"Scorpius, what do you want for dessert?" I hear Aunt Andromeda ask, and I silently thank God for her. I do not want to have this conversation with my son.
"Berries and cream," he says after a moment of deliberation. I give him a close look and can tell that he has not forgotten his question, but it does not come up again during dinner or dessert.
The clock chimes to tell me that it has reached the ten o'clock hour as I sit at my desk in my study, reading and writing responses to letters from future clients. It can be tedious work, though once in awhile I come across an odd request, like a six year old who has had her twelve year old brother write to ask me if my company would please reconsider using unicorn hair because it hurts them to have their hair pulled, of course I let her down nicely with an explanation that we don't actually pull their hair out so no, it does not hurt them.
I now pick up a very thick letter from one of my investors, and prepare myself to endure what will just be an onslaught of compliments and then a sly request for a change in my company.
Knock.
I glance up from the letter which promises to be both boring and annoying, to look at my study's door.
"Come in," I say. It is either Aunt Andromeda or Scorpius, but I think more my Aunt as I have already put Scorpius to bed, an awkward moment because I knew that he wanted to re-ask his dinner question and I really don't want to discuss it.
I am right, as the door opens Aunt Andromeda walks in with a soft smile; even though Aunt Andromeda looks mostly like my late Aunt Bellatrix, I can sometimes see the same sweetness in her that my mother also possessed.
"I always find you in here," she says as she walks over to talk a seat in one of the chairs I have in my study.
"That is because I always have work to do," I say, then I give her a small smile, "Though once in a while I have been known to disappear to go drink some tea in the park."
"That sounds nice, maybe one day you can take Scorpius with you," Aunt Andromeda suggests.
"Maybe," I muse. "So, Aunt Andromeda, what brings you to my study at such a late hour?"
"I received a letter from the London Morgue today," she says, and immediately my smile disappears. My mother must have arrived, that or there was a problem with bringing her body over here. I close my eyes, I will not think about the morbid possibilities.
"Oh."
"Would you like to read it?" she asks, and takes a letter from her robe pocket.
"Please," I say and reach out my hand for the letter. She places it in mine and I bring it to my eyes so that I may read it.
As my eyes reach the bottom of the rather short letter, I let out a sigh of relief, her body has been transferred safely, and the Morgue would like for me to choose what clothes she will wear for her burial, the meeting has been scheduled for this Friday at four thirty in the afternoon.
"Draco, have you let your father know about your Mother's passing?"
I look up from the parchment, and I feel my fingers tighten their grip on the slim piece of parchment, and the colour must have drained from my face as well because Aunt Andromeda looks slightly concerned.
"No," I say, though it comes out a little more like a croak.
"You should," Aunt Andromeda says.
"But-" I set down the piece of parchment and feel eight again, trying to reason out why Goyle shouldn't keep kicking the puppy. "What if it causes him to-" I feel tears well up, but I repress them.
"Draco," Aunt Andromeda says soothingly. "I know that you are worried about what the information of Narcissa's death will do to Lucius, but I know that my sister's husband, your father, no matter where he is, would want to know about your mother's death."
I look up at her and see that she is right; it is just that I am scared. Father has been in Azkaban for thirteen years and the last time I visited him, which was last spring, his mental health hadn't been the best, and I am scared that the news of my mother's death will shatter his resolve completely. I know, of course, that my Father is a strong man, for the first few years of his imprisonment he managed to stay sane thanks to the absence of Dementors in the prison, but six years ago, after a gruesome raid made on the prison by some idiot half-bloods and muggleborns during which five former Death Eaters where murdered most gruesomely and most of the rest tortured, my father's mind skips through his lifetime and the last time I saw him he thought I was six again and begging for an owl of my own. How am I supposed to tell him that his wife is now dead?
"Draco," Aunt Andromeda says soothingly, and it takes me from my fears. "I can come with you if you want?"
"Thank you, but no. I will do it, alone," I say, rejecting her offer of support because as much as I love my Aunt, I do not want her to see my father in the state he is right now, and if he does break completely from the news of Mothers' death, I want it to just be me and him.
A sad smile appears on my Aunt's face and she reaches over and touches my cheek lightly. "You are such a strong man," she says and then rises. "Well I best leave. I need to write a letter to Teddy before I go to sleep otherwise he won't receive it tomorrow during mail time."
I try to smile but can't, my cousin is lucky, back at Hogwarts where things are safe, though during those last two years of my educational career nothing was safe. "Goodnight Aunt Andromeda," I say.
"Goodnight Draco." She gives me one last encouraging smile and then exits my study.
Now that she is gone I stare at the letter from the morgue. The one thing I hate about magic burials is that they are so prolonged because of our magic to preserve the bodies. If the magic to preserve the dead were not around my Mother would already be in the ground and I would not still be dreading going to see her cold, lifeless body. My head sinks down into the pile of unanswered letters. I need a break, but before that I have to go see Father and tell him that Mother is now dead.
XXXXXXXXX
"Sir."
I look up from the papers I have been reading on a minor case; in front of me stands Auror Gerbins.
"Yes?" I ask, my voice strained from lack of sleep since I haven't gotten any since I slept at Draco's, and that was Wednesday and today is Friday.
"We've caught Bernard Turnpike."
I look at the Auror wearily as it takes a moment for this to process in my head as a good thing. Bernard Turnpike was one of the people we have been tipped off that interacts with that madwoman who's draining the kids of their blood; this is indeed a very good thing. I smile at him and stand up.
"Excellent, is he down in the interrogation room?" I ask, a good interrogation will help my report bogged mind excited and fresh.
"No, he's in Azkaban, we've been searching for him anyways, he was once part of a large potions scandal and so we've put him in a cell."
I groan slightly, I hate going to Azkaban because even though there are no more Dementors, every time I walk past the cells I can't help but wonder which one of the Sirius was locked up in.
"Very well, I'll head over there now," I say.
"Very good Sir, shall I warn the Floo people that you'll need a link to Azkaban?"
"Please," I say.
Auror Gerbins gives a curt nod and then disappears to go set up a connection for me. I look down at my desk, at all of the papers that are piled on them and suppress another groan, before becoming Head Auror I had thought that being promoted to Head would mean that I wouldn't have to write any more reports, and while I was right I now have a more tedious job, reading them. I try to arrange the mess into as organized a pile as I can since I have to wait for my connection, maybe I should see if I can press all of this reading onto my Senior Secretary, I muse. Wait no, I can't, Senior Auror Secretary Melissa Quinn is too much of a feminist for me to get away with that because in her words, while she may be a secretary of sorts she is not my slave.
"It's all set up."
I look back at the entrance to my office to see Auror Gerbins again.
"Thanks," I say.
"Will you be returning afterwards?" he asks.
"Probably not," I say.
"Good luck then."
I let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, thanks," I say and then stide over to my fireplace. I grab a handful of Floo powder and then say loud and clear, "Azkaban."
XXXXXXXXX
I stand outside in the freezing weather, the sea air brutal with cold and the stinging feel of salt. In front of me are the ominous gates of Azkaban, a place I only barely escaped so many years ago. I hate coming here, the despair of the place makes me sick and seeing my father here, broken and brought down to nothing but a madman hurts more than anything. I take a deep breath and go forward, and as I do I fight against the harsh wind that seems to be trying its best to push me into the churning sea behind me.
A guard questions me and asks for my papers and whatnot and once everything is in order I am allowed entrance into hell on earth. I walk with composure, my head slightly titled upward, shoulders back, assure of myself, the outer appearance that I have maintained my entire life to show that I am proud of who I am and at the moment, not scared of where I am, even though I am. Another guard takes me past cells, some empty, some not, but each seeping with despair and death and madness, the stench is so overwhelming that I have to keep myself from stumbling due to the hopelessness that tries to suffocate me.
"'ere ye are, Mr. Malfoy," the guard says as he opening the heavy door to a room with two unbreakable windows on both the right and left wall and two chairs. The windows are so that a guard or guards can make sure that the visitor is not attacked during their meeting with the prisoner and that chairs, well that should be obvious.
I walk inside and hear as the great rock and steal door is closed and barred behind me and I can feel the anti-magic shields, their oppressive duty makes me feel like I am in a box, a paper thin box, forcibly defenseless. I maintain my cool composure and sit in the chair closest to where I entered from and then wait. Father will enter the room soon and then I will have to tell him, tell him that Mother is gone, dead.
"Fifteen minutes," a gruff voice says and the door opposite me is closed and bolted, I never even heard it open.
I look in front of me at my father, once a proud and handsome man, he is now the colour of a corpse and his now gray and pale blonde hair limp and greasy, but what is most disturbing is look on his face, the look of confidence and power.
"Draco, how long has it been?" he asks.
I hesitate before I answer him, I do not know what time his mind is in, but from what I can tell he seems aware that he is in Azkaban, so he's not too far into the past at the moment.
"Too long," I say.
"Yes, why have you come alone?"
"Well, Father, that's why I'm here because I am alone."
"Now, now Draco you have your mother and soon you'll have Astoria who will make you a very fine wife I am sure."
I feel my throat tighten, so he thinks that I am twenty-four, right before Astoria and I married.
"Father, Astoria and I have already been married," I say. I have never told about the divorce, and I probably never will because that is one disappointment I can spare him.
"No, I could have sworn you and your mother were just here a few months ago to announce the engagement."
"Father," I say and then pause. He looks at me shrewdly, like he would when I was little and he knew that I was keeping a secret from him, a secret that normally got me into trouble.
"Draco, it's OK, you can tell me anything. I am your father, and even though I am stuck in this hellhole one day I will be able to be there for you again."
My throat becomes dry, twisting more to keep the sobs down and the tears away. "Father," I try again.
"What is it Draco?"
"Mother she-"
"What has happened to Narcissa?"
I look up at him and he looks concerned and also scared, I have only ever seen my father scared twice and the first time was when Voldemort had moved in, the second time was when Potter escaped from our manor.
I open my mouth and a sob tries to wriggle its way out of my throat. I quickly mash my lips together and look away from my Father.
"She's fine, she just wanted me to come and tell you that the wedding will be marvelous."
I can't see my Father but I know that he's giving me a suspicious look, but I won't look at him, I can't let him see me as I am now, a coward and a liar, to him, my own father.
"Well I am glad to hear it, the Malfoy line must go on, you will do our name proud my son."
I look up at him and see that he is proud and I force a smile for him.
"Time to go."
We both look back and see a guard; once again I did not hear the back door open.
"Very well," my Father says and he stands up and then waits for me to as well. We don't hug, but rather he shakes my hand.
"Remember Draco, your mother and I are so very proud of who you are becoming."
I nod and the guard begins to usher my father away. I turn to leave because I can't keep looking at him. I reach the door which is now open.
"Draco."
I pause.
"Yes Father."
"Narcissa came by earlier, she said that your wife is pregnant, I want you to know that I look forward to seeing my grandchild."
I nod and then leave as quickly as possible without seeming in a rush. I walk through the bleak hallways full of no future and I am halfway to the entrance but I stop. The guard gives me a curious look but I just shake my head. I have never been one to crack in front of people but right now I am just so shaken. My Father's comment is just so tragic, he never will get to see Scorpius because his memory is extensive only to that last meeting when I saw him about naming my son.
"Draco?"
At the voice I spin around, my hand searching for my wand, but I cannot take it out because it is with the guard at the door.
"Whoa there, I'm not going to attack you."
I let my hand fall limply to my side and straighten myself.
"Hello Potter," I say formally.
"It's Harry," he corrects. "Why are you here?" he asks.
I open my mouth to inform him that it is none of his business but I am interrupted as a man has just appeared behind Potter.
"Sir, shall we leave now?"
Potter looks back at who is probably another Auror and waves him off. "Nah, you go ahead, I'll catch up with you."
The Auror looks over at him and must recognize me from the Daily Prophet from thirteen years ago because he sneers. "Very well," he submits and then walks away.
"You should have gone with him," I say. Potter turns to look at. "I have things to do."
"May I accompany you?"
"No."
Potter looks a little surprised at my refusal to his company, but it does not seem to deter him because he just leans closer to me.
"Are you alright? You look paler than normal." His hand reaches up as if to touch my clammy forehead but I jerk back.
"I am fine Potter, but thank you for your concern." He gives me a look that tells me that he doesn't believe me.
"What time do your things start?"
"Excuse me?"
He sighs. "What time do you have to go and do whatever it is you won't allow me to tag along to?"
I almost smile slightly; he makes me think of an adorable puppy that wants to follow a little boy down an abandoned country lane.
"Four thirty."
He looks down at his watch and then smiles, looking back at me. "Excellent, it's only one, care for a drink and maybe a bite to eat." I raise an eyebrow and he gives me a cute smile. "It'll be my treat," he says, trying to convince me. I shake my head at his childish way of bribery.
"Very well," I consent. A cuppa and maybe a slice of pound cake sound nice right now and who knows, being in Potter's company could keep me from being so upset about my father.
"Well come on then," he says and then links arms with me and leads me to the entrance; my guard had left a minute or so into my conversation with Potter.
After I get my wand we take the brutally freezing and annoyingly wet boat ride back to society, the whole time sitting too close in my opinion, but because he radiates so much body heat and the trip is so cold I allow myself to stay next to him, sucking all of his warmth from him as he complained halfway into the ride.
Back in the city he takes me to a nice hidden wizard cafe that has a homey decorum and a smattering of calm costumers who all seemed content with a cuppa and a book or comfortable conversations about the approaching holidays.
"So," Potter begins after our food and drinks have been served to us, "what were you doing in Azkaban?" I glare at him from over my tea-cup. "Alright then," he says admitting defeat, though something in the way he says it makes me think that he's figured out that I went to see my Father.
"What were you doing there?" I ask after taking a generous sip of my Earl Grey tea.
"Trying to turn the tables now," he says trying to be mysterious and suave; I roll my eyes at his attempt. "If you must know, I was there on top secret Auror business."
"Sounds thrilling," I say. I don't care much about what the Auror's or Ministry is doing unless it interferes with my company, and I'm sure his being at the Wizarding World's most high security prison doesn't, and besides I am enjoying the warmth that my hands are receiving from my hot tea-cup.
"Not really. Just interrogating some chap named Bernard Turnpike." I crinkle my nose at the name of the bastard. "You know him?" Potter asks shocked.
"I know about him," I say scathingly. "Every nearly every Potion's company does, he tried to bring my company and the two other successful Potionaries down."
"Oh, well he's safely behind bars now," Potter says proudly and I roll my eyes. I have too much on my mind to think about such scum.
"So then," Potter says, he is doing a very good job at trying to keep conversation alive. "What are you doing at four thirty?"
I look up at him and set my cuppa down. "Do you really want to know?" I ask wearily.
He looks at my sheepishly, he has probably recognized the tiredness in my voice. "Kind of," he admits.
"I have to go see my mother's corpse to figure out what she's going to wear at her burial and fill out some more paper work to get her burial underway."
Potter looks at my shocked and then wipes away the expression to one of appropriate ashamedness. "I'm sorry," he says.
"Don't be, you didn't kill her."
Potter winces at my words and I give him a curious look. He must still feel bad about the people who died during the war and blames himself, it's so Potter like.
"I mean for pushing the subject."
"It's alright," I say and he looks up at me and I have to smile to reassure him. "You didn't know."
He gives me an apologetic smile and then cocks his head to the side and his smile turns happier. "You're not wearing your hair back."
I subconsciously reach up and feel that my blonde hair resting lazily down, I must have forgotten to tie it back this morning.
"It looks much nicer," he says and I feel myself blush, but maybe he'll attest it to the warmth of my tea filling me up, but sadly from the pleased look on his face I think he knows that I am blushing. "You look softer, cuter."
I am definitely red by now and Potter is leaning closer to me and I can feel my heart thumping rather heartily in my chest.
"I am a man, Potter, I am not cute."
His smile is still in place and he takes a strand of hair in-between his fingers.
"Then you are a very cute man."
I stand up suddenly and a few people stare at me. "Thanks for the cuppa and the pound cake," I say. He is looking at my surprised and almost disappointed. "I have to go now, though."
"But you still have-"
"Goodbye Potter, and thanks again."
I quickly leave the cafe and once I'm a good block away I pause and catch my breath. Why is Potter doing this to me now? Why not earlier on when I was still smitten with him, why now that I have come to terms with my attraction for him as just that, I think? I know exactly why though, it's because back then he was blissfully in love with the Weaselette and in his prime, the whole British wizarding community adoringly watching him prepare for his happily ever after and now that it was all broken I am here, so conveniently
"Draco."
I spin around, wand out this time.
"What now Potter?"
"Put your wand away," he says and I sigh but nonetheless put it away. "You left too quickly."
"I am a very busy man."
He smiles almost bitterly, he must know all about being busy.
"Tomorrow night I am having a small gathering at my place. Just me and Ron and Hermione, maybe even Neville, Hannah, and Luna, I'd like for you to come as well."
I give him a strange look. "Have all of those late nights working addled with your thinking process Potter?" I ask. "You want me, Draco Malfoy, to attend a party with a bunch of former Gryffindorks?"
Potter seems a little offended, but lets the house insult slide. "My friends are over that now, you'll be fine and I know that you and Hermione will be able to have a nice conversation." My nose scrunches more at the thought of speaking with the mudblood. "Oh come Draco, haven't you grown up?"
"Of course I have," I state indignantly.
"Then come, and you can bring Scorpius as well, he'll be fine with Al and maybe even make friends with Ron and Hermione's kids and Neville and Hannah's kid."
I frown, do I really want to expose my son to the Weasley lot, but then again he does seem a bit more sullen since Albus Potter left.
"I'll think about it," I say.
A triumphant grin breaks out on Potter's face like acne on a stressed teens chin. "Excellent, I'll owl the time and directions."
"I said I'll think about it," I restate, "I haven't agreed yet."
But this doesn't have an effect on him and he closes in on me before I have time to react, he gives a quick hug.
"I'll see you tomorrow Draco," he says happily and then walks away and I swear he's whistling; I myself am frozen in the way Harry's arms has caused me to react me, rigorous and tense. He just hugged me and invited me over to his house where his friends will be. What could this mean? I shake it off as I am getting some funny stares and go off to find the nearest apperation point, it's time to go and see my Mother.
A/N: Now wasn't that cute, poor Draco though, he goes through so much. Anywho please review.