A/N: Hey everyone I hope you're enjoying what happened in the last chapter. I did love Bones, but you know he was in the way and it was either drag it out or make things interesting. This way is better- or is it? Hehehe. Love to my reviewers, my reviews this past time were so cute/funny. Justpassingby sent me one that was wonderfully motivating. And whoever sent me the one about laughing about the way Bones died, haha, well, I'm glad you loved it!

Enjoy!

Chapter 21:

Draco sat waiting in the blue morning room in the town house at Occassion Alley for the reading of the will.

This was his favorite room in the town house with it's lovely giant west facing windows and its gold leaf paint along the crown molding. There was a painting by Gornelli of the Rising of the Muses which was very pretty as it had three women, two with dark hair and one with light, and it rather put Draco in mind of his mother and her sisters, although that wasn't altogether pleasant. Draco thought the vase in the corner was well done too, with the marbling, but then again, the Boneses loved anything that sparkled, they were rather like kittens in that respect.

Draco wasn't going to think about Algernon.

Not today.

He had come apart too many times after the war and he knew if he just saw one photograph of Algernon the guilt and the shame and the horror of what he had done would eat away at him like a cancer. Algernon had known at the last, whatever else had happened, Draco knew that. Algernon had died knowing he was nothing more than a cheat and a scoundrel and a liar, who had repaid his love and kindness and goodness with an affair with another man. Draco had always told Algernon that he didn't deserve him-and then he had to go and make it true.

But, he wasn't going to think anymore about that.

Draco swallowed heavily and walked to the window to look out the small city garden. There were a few flowers growing, a few roses and a few weeds, neither he nor Algernon had ever had a green thumb or the interest in hiring a gardener. Honestly, Draco had never had an interest in the house- he had always thought it a bit flash after living in Malfoy Manor where everything had been as it had been for nearly a thousand years.

Merlin, he was getting morbid.

What was taking Susan and Algernon's parents so long?

Draco hadn't thought like this in years, not since the war- and now Algernon's death was bringing up the old feeling of being haunted and of feeling trapped. Gods, all Draco wanted was for Mr. and Mrs. Bones to come in and tell him he had no claim to anything, as he anticipated so that he could move on to his own poky little flat or back to his aunt's in peace.

Someone knocked on the door and Draco sighed in relief.

"I'm so sorry we're late," Mrs. Bones said. She smiled evenly, lifting the veil from her wide brimmed traveling hat and smiling a rather shaky hello to Draco. "I hope this wasn't too bad for you, dear."

"No," Draco lied, kissing her hand. Draco had met the Bones' a few times during the years at Landsdowne and they had always been kind to him, but it had never been more than a passing acquaintance.

"We'd better get this over with," Mr. Bones said gruffly, his face still as white as parchment as it was at the funeral. "Draco Malfoy, this is our attorney, Niall Polmouth, Mr. Polmouth, my late son's partner."

Draco nearly bit his tongue clear through to keep from protesting over the blatant lie that that was. Gods. Living a sham of a double-life and then having something to do with one of your lover's deaths was going to drive him madder than Aunt Bella, he was sure. They were going to have to put him away somewhere and sort out the pieces, one by one, like a scattered puzzle.

If he could just get that look of stunned realization out of his mind.

From behind Mr. Bones and the attorney, Susan crept out. She was wearing her black robes open with a smart black lace dress, her lace mantilla drawn away from her face. Algernon would have teased her and told her that she looked like she belonged in a pantomime. Draco felt a fresh wave of guilt and mourning turn his stomach.

"How are you holding up?" Susan said, stroking the sleeve of Draco's new black robes. "You haven't written me since the funeral."

Draco had felt so entirely uncomfortable speaking to Susan at the funeral that he had had to drink two glasses of madeira to get up the courage to say hello, and then he had stopped after that, afraid that he would spill his own secrets in the process.

"It's just hard writing to you on black edged parchment," Draco said, swallowing alongside the lump in his throat.

Susan nodded quickly as though she was going to cry and Draco turned away-he couldn't, couldn't deal with her tears, not again. He didn't know what he'd do this time if he saw her cry.

"I think we might as well get started right in here," Mr. Bones said, gesturing to the small drawing room right off the main hallway.

"Indeed," Mr. Polmouth stated, his mouth drawn into a firm, thin line. He waited until the family were all seated before beginning. "As you know, Mr. and Mrs. Bones, you transferred the bulk of Algernon's inheritance to him at the age of seventeen without clause or encumbrance-"

"Why would we have put any limitations on how he spent his money?" Mrs Bones said shakily, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "Al was always such a good boy."

"Of course," Mr. Polmouth continued superciliously. "A year before his death, however, Algernon came to see me to ask if there was any entailments on the Occasion Alley home, or on Landsdowne. I told him frankly that Landsdowne would pass to his brother Alexander, but that Occasion Alley and his vaults and the contents of this home were his. He revised his will."

"Revised it?" Mr. Bones said softly.

"Yes," the attorney said evenly. "I, Algernon Wallace Bones, being of sound mind and body etc; it goes on for a while in that vein - do behest and bequeath the entirety of my estate to one of whom I am most fond, Draco Cygnus Abraxas Malfoy, for reasons of which he is most well aware."

Draco felt his hands go numb, and his face tingle. Oh gods, Algernon he thought horribly. How could you leave me anything?

"Susan," he heard a voice cry in the distance. "Fetch me the smelling salts."

Someone waved something around his eyes and he blinked quickly. Mrs. Bones and Susan looked over him-he was laid out on the settee.

"Would you like some wine?" Mr. Bones asked. "This must have come to you as a terrible shock, my lad."

"No, thank you," Draco said, sitting up quickly. "I'm quite recovered."

But it was a terrible shock-but not for the reasons the Boneses thought.

The crack still looked like Snape's nose.

Draco stared at it in the darkness. He was back home, back to where it all started, at Aunt Andromeda's pretty little cottage in Kent. Draco closed his eyes tightly, squinted as though the added pressure could clear his mind. He hadn't slept well in three days- it wasn't as bad as before, but it was still bad- the trickles of madness tingling down his spine as real and as palpable as footsteps coming down a hallway. Draco was waiting for it. Sometimes Aunt Andromeda came in the room and changed the dripping candle for a fresh one, but she didn't disturb him. This time she thought it was grief, not some sign of inner failings.

But it was, dear gods, it was.

Every night Algernon came to him, as alive as he had been just two months before, his dark curling hair and bright smile now a ghostly taunting image to haunt Draco's sleeping hours.

At first Draco had tried to ignore it, he had tried to take a vial of Dreamless Sleep, or simply take a walk until he had exhausted himself, but the dreams always came. Always.

Avery had the silver tray again, and he was looking at Draco with his disgusting, despicably suggestive oily smile. Draco was no longer seventeen and Malfoy Manor stood all around them in ashes.

"Open the tray, Draco," Draco wanted to kill him, he wanted to hex him and run, but he couldn't, he was held to the floor with invisible force.

Draco opened it.

It was Algernon's severed head with a placid smile on it's face, blood dripping from it's neck around the plate and onto the silver serving dish below. Alongside it was a vial of lubricant.

"Love can drive a man to the breaking point, can't it?" Avery laughed, and Draco screamed.

Draco woke up still screaming.

There was some noise downstairs, but Draco paid it no mind, instead he pressed his hands to his face- he felt very hot. If it kept up like this any longer, he was going to go see Healer Levy, or go voluntarily and put himself in a ward at St. Mungo's

If it were possible to go insane from guilt, Draco was.

Draco padded down the hall for the bathroom and brushed his teeth and washed his face. He had thought it was early- the wee hours of the morning, but judging by the sunlight streaming through the small window in the bathroom, it was nearly mid-afternoon.

He passed through the hall and heard Aunt Andromeda speak.

"I won't wake him," she said firmly, and Draco grinned- he owned Aunt Andromeda so much for her loyalty, more than he could ever repay. "Draco hasn't slept well in days since Algernon died and he deserves his rest."

"I know," a voice said softly, and Draco stilled, gripping the hall banister for strength-it was Harry. "If I could just speak to him for a moment-"

"No," Aunt Andromeda insisted firmly, but pleasantly, and Draco nearly collapsed in relief.

Draco had no idea what he wanted to say to Harry. His feelings for Harry were so confused by what had happened-they had basically embarked on an affair together, and he was still tangled up in mourning Algernon, however twisted and horrible that sounded. He didn't know if he could go back to being Harry Potter's secret little tryst on the side for dirty weekends at Grimmauld Place, let alone exploring a full-on relationship. His mind felt exhausted, drained, and frayed with guilt- if he had just been able to tell Algernon how he had really felt, and had some type of argument or discussion with him at the last, at least there would have been that, but he had had nothing.

Draco had been a coward, just like he'd always been. Just like he was being now, avoiding Harry as well. That was his nature though- run from a problem until it exploded in his face and then try to unpick the pieces without making a shambles of them.

As soon as Harry left, Draco made his way downstairs. Aunt Andromeda was sipping a cup of tea in the kitchen and Teddy was so engrossed in the telly he hardly noticed as Draco passed by.

Aunt Andromeda passed him a cup and Draco managed a smile for her.

"Harry Potter has come four times this week," Aunt Andromeda said with her piercing gaze. "I assume it wasn't only to teach Teddy how to mount his broom backwards."

Draco smothered a smile- Harry would do something like that. "No," Draco finally said carefully. "I suppose it would not be only for that."

Aunt Andromeda nodded, sitting down on one of the stools. "Do be careful not to move on too quickly, Draco- Harry Potter is a man with fixed ideals and fixed notions, you can keep him waiting a bit longer yet. Unless things have progressed already?"

Draco looked into the sitting room. Teddy was laughing, his peach head thrown back over the sofa as a cartoon ant was devoured by a mole with a hat on. "Things have progressed beyond a sensible degree," he murmured, not turning around to catch Aunt Andromeda's initial reaction.

When he did look her lips were pursed and her eyes shuttered. "I suppose you'll have to deal with Harry then, Draco. As I said, he's a very stubborn young man."

Draco nodded. That was the problem- he had no idea how to deal with all of this.

Healer Levy agreed to see Draco on very short notice. Draco looked around his well appointed office with something akin to a homecoming feeling- though he had left here over three years ago or even more, he had never felt badly about his parting. Healer Levy, in his clear Muggle eyeglasses and his funny bald head had saved his life, and although he didn't quite owe him a Life Debt; Draco considered it one.

"Draco," Healer Levy said warmly, shaking Draco's hand as though he was a friend and not a patient. "I'm so sorry about Algernon Bones."

Draco could not disguise his wince. "Thank you," Draco said, taking his seat.

Healer Levy took his across from Draco. "It's been a long time, old friend. A very long time. How is everything? Teaching?"

"Very well," Draco smiled. "Thank you for that. But I have to tell you I'm not here because of this or that like before. It's about Algernon's death."

Healer Levy dipped his head, setting his familiar quill to work. "I see," he said. "Grief can often take many forms, Draco. What has been troubling you?"

Draco swallowed heavily. "I assume you know the circumstances surrounding Algernon's death, as they were in every paper," when Healer Levy nodded, Draco continued. "I was having an affair with someone- a coworker of Algernon's. He found out that night, and was distracted. I think it contributed to-"

Draco broke off and stared at his lap-there was blood on his hands and Algernon wasn't moving or blinking but he was still warm, why wasn't he moving or anything- this was only a dream, surely he wasn't dead-

Healer Levy cleared his throat delicately and Draco snapped up and stared at him. Healer Levy smiled blandly. "Draco, I must ask you, did you duel with Algernon Bones or Francis Sampson that night?"

"No," Draco sighed, pinching the sides of his head. "And I know I'm not a wanted criminal either, Healer- but I still had something to do with it- he saw us together, if you would have seen his face-"

"Draco," Healer Levy said calmly. "I'm not condoning your behavior but if two wanted criminals hadn't broken into the wards at Harry Potter's Gala this all would have never happened. The guilt you feel is because you had an affair and never got the chance to confess, not because you maimed Mr. Bones in any way that evening."

Draco put both his hands over his face. "I never cared for him half as much as he did me- and I just took advantage- I needed someone and I didn't know I needed someone-he was so good, and funny and kind-"

Healer Levy touched his tense shoulder. "Might I suggest something?"

Draco nodded.

Draco sat down in the crypt at Landsdowne. There were fresh yellow roses still there- for Hufflepuff, probably from some of Algernon's old classmates. Draco had met a few in his time, but he hadn't met all of them. The room was cold and dank-Algernon would have never liked a place like this- he would have made fun and laughed, he would have wanted to go rowing in the sun in a little blue boat- he would have wanted go to the little London tea shop Draco couldn't even pass by because it made him sick.

Draco sighed.

Healer Levy had suggested writing a letter to Algernon and then burning it- the gods believed that if you did that the spirit would find it somehow beyond the veil. Personally Draco thought it a load of bollocks, but he was willing to try it- anything to lay to rest this guilt and anxiety- the last of this mess.

Draco had stayed up all day and night for two days before he had written it: Algernon-I'm so very sorry. He didn't know what else to say. Finally Draco cast incendio and he left.

Draco knew that he was avoiding Harry. He knew it because he was purposely doing it and also because he needed to think. Healer Levy had been right- writing to Algernon had released some of the guilt, but not all of it-Draco still had the Occasion Alley townhouse and Algernon's vaults to live with. Draco was loath to spend all the vaults like a heathen who had hit the Rune Runaway but he had to know how much gold and assets were in the vaults, and also it was a good excuse to stay away from Harry, who had taken to haunting the cottage like a Veela mate in heat.

A private Gringotts representative had agreed to meet Draco for lunch at The Regency Muse. Draco sat down in their Imperial Tea Room, thankful that the rumors that he had come into a vast fortune had kept them from barring a former criminal.

"Mr. Malfoy," a smooth wizard called Downes said, taking the opposite seat. "A pleasure."

Draco wondered how much of a pleasure it would be once the accounts were settled once and for all. "I called you today, Mr. Downes, to find out the exact sum of gold that was left in the vault of my late partner." Draco's mouth still had trouble forming that term, although it didn't hurt any longer.

"Ah yes," Mr. Downes said, taking out a ream of parchment. "It was indeed, rather an extensive tabulation. If you do not mind me casting a-?"

Draco shook his head quickly. "Go on, Mr. Downes."

"For liquid assets, if you please, Mr. Malfoy, we are looking at the sum of over one million galleons. In less liquid assets such as artifacts and jewels, so forth, we are looking at a auction or appraisal value of around half a million galleons, sir."

Draco sipped his tea to keep from speaking. One million galleons was more liquid money than the Malfoys had had in centuries let alone at hand. That was a grand fortune, very grand- too much to leave to a lover that was having an affair with another man.

"Please find some way to make arraignments to transfer the artifacts and jewels back to the Bones family," Draco said tiredly. "And I need to find the name of a good estate agent- if the Bones family do not want the Occasion Alley townhouse I want it sold. Can you do that?"

"Oh yes," Mr. Downes beamed. "Absolutely; we cater to our finest clients."

Wealthiest, you mean, Draco snarked internally.

"Well," Draco said dropping a few galleons on the table to pay for their tea. "If you'll excuse me, I must be off. I have another appointment."

Draco crossed the busy Diagon Alley High Street and made his way passed the tea shop and Flourish and Blotts to Supreme Shears. A fancy hair salon with sleek metal chairs and black dragonhide chairs,;Supreme Shears had also opened in the post-war boom, to deal with high-end clientele like society wives and Quidditch stars. Along one wall was smirking and sneering men, and women with sleek hair and mountainous updes who had been styled by the staff- Draco was determined not to join their ranks.

Violet Browne-Longstaff, the proprietress and head stylist, came to the front and looked at Draco as if through an astronomer's telescope.

"Come take a seat," she finally said.

Draco went.

"What are you here for?" She asked.

"My hair is naturally blond," Draco said. "I want to go back to it."

Violet nodded. "You look alright but you could look better. There's a spell to go back to your natural shade. I'm going to recommend that, as well as some lowlights to blend in and give it dimension, as well as a new cut and style. Set?"

Draco nodded. He was fine with anything as long as it was a change- he had hid behind the caramel-colored hair of his Black ancestors for too long- it was time to be blond-on-blond Draco Malfoy again and face the world as himself. Anonymity had not worked and real life needed to start. He needed to be if not brave then honest. And there was nothing more dishonest than a disguise.

Draco didn't look whilst Violet hacked into his hair with her wand. He had worn his hair chin length since sixth year and now mounds of it lay on the floor- white pieces now, like feathers from a dove. His head already felt lighter. Finally Violet said-

"Look."

It was an asymmetrical cut. The left side of his head hardly had any hair, it was cut as closely to the scalp as possible and streaked with black and deep brown highlights. The right side of his hair was longer and swept across his eyes and eyebrow with a huge black thread like a reversed skunk. Draco smiled- he wasn't anonymous anymore, but he certainly could hide behind the artful flop of hair with a toss. He tried it and it fell right back across his face without being disturbed.

"I like it," Draco nodded.

Perhaps now this would be enough to give him the nerve to tackle the final issue- Harry Potter and the future of that relationship.