June 5- Return

Draco

Draco awoke with a groan to an owl tapping on his bedroom window. An owl?

He pushed aside the covers hastily and ran to open the window. The owl fluttered down and held out his leg. Two scrolls were attached there.

"Well, happy birthday to me," Draco muttered, taking the scrolls and shooing the bird back out the window.

He wondered briefly what had happened to allow an owl entry to this dank prison of a house, but at the moment all he cared about was the contents of the letters, hoping against all hope one of them was from Astoria.

The first one he unraveled contained the familiar handwriting of Potter and so landed on the table unread. The next one also contained familiar handwriting, a response from Theo. Draco read the letter over with a smirk. "The boy who lived here before…"

Slick.

This must mean that Theo had been in contact with Potter, which meant…

Draco grabbed the other letter and looked it over.

I've spoken with the Minister.

We should discuss things in person.

Floo when you are able.

-H

Today was about to be the best or worst birthday he had ever had.

Draco dressed quickly and made his way downstairs. He could faintly hear his mother in the kitchen and was comforted to know that even in captivity she was making an effort for his "special day". Draco didn't feel special. He was eighteen now but without the fanfare that usually surrounded having your birthday at school, it all seemed rather silly. There was no gang of Slytherins to applaud his arrival in the common room. No cakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Certainly no pretty girl to kiss him. He wondered, ever so briefly, if this would've been the year, had things been different. If Astoria would've been the one to proffer a birthday kiss. In his heart he knew the answer was no. Even if she did fancy him, she wasn't the type to give away her kisses as tokens.

Yet another reason why he loved her.

"Happy Birthday, love!" his mother trilled in a strange high-pitched voice. She was fixing crepes, his favourite. Draco poured himself a coffee and allowed her to kiss his cheek before sitting down.

"Any big plans for today?" Narcissa Malfoy asked and Draco looked at her incredulously.

"Mother, I'm not allowed to leave the damn house. What sort of grand plans do you think I could have?!"

Narcissa merely tutted and carried over a plate stacked with delicate pancakes.

Draco tucked in, not keen to discuss his lack of freedom this early in the morning. He had to contact Potter after this. If the news was good, he wouldn't care about wasting his birthday sitting around in the library. If it was bad, well, he'd figure something out.

After eating a mostly quiet breakfast and agreeing to play chess with his mother after he showered, Draco made his way to the fireplace. He scribbled a note and sent it through the fireplace then waited for what seemed like several long minutes for a response. When it came, it was an eruption of green, containing a spinning wizard with glasses, messy hair and a lightning bolt scar.

Draco hated the face, but was so accustomed to it at this point that he hardly bothered to sneer. They did not exchange pleasantries but simply walked towards the library, Potter a little in front. Draco closed the door and strolled over to where the other wizard was already sitting, pulling a roll of parchment from his jacket pocket.

"Should I sit down?" Draco asked, dryly, though he was very anxious to know what news had come up that required an in face meeting.

Potter merely shrugged and looked at Draco over the top of his glasses. "If you'd like."

Draco took the armchair opposite and crossed his long legs. How nice it would be to sit and chat with someone he didn't actually despise.

"You are being relocated," Potter began and Draco's annoyance flared immediately.

"Where?"

"Home," Potter said simply and Draco paled. Not Malfoy Manor. Just the mention of the place made him feel nauseous. He could still remember that horrible great snake swallowing that woman's body…

"Draco?" Potter asked after a moment, sounding concerned and Draco looked up. He tried to pull himself together, masking any weakness.

"No. We are not safe there. You said so yourself."

Potter raised his eyebrows, sending that infamous scar up to hide behind his hair. "The Minister feels that enough time has passed. Aurors have investigated the grounds and have found no sign of attempted breaches. You will still be confined, but it will at least have the, ah, comforts, I'm sure you are missing."

Draco frowned at the dry tone Harry was using. As if this prat cares about my comfort. Yes, Draco lived in a massive sprawling mansion. All of his belongings were there. And none of it mattered. He never wanted to go back.

"What if I refuse?" he said haughtily, crossing his arms.

Potter actually barked a laugh as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Refuse? Honestly Malfoy, why would you refuse?"

Draco's mouth pressed together in a tight line. He would not admit fear to this little wanker.

"Listen, it's already fixed," Harry went on, unrolling the parchment in his hand. "You and your mother will be moved this weekend by a small team of Aurors. You'll still have to meet with a parole officer, but you'll be well shot of me. I'm sure that's-"

"I'm not going!" he shouted suddenly causing Potter to lean back in surprise.

They sat in tense silence for a moment before Draco heard his mother padding quickly down the hall.

"Draco, darling? What's the matter?" she called, swinging the door open and taking in the scene. "What are you doing here?" Narcissa scowled, glaring at the pinched face of Harry Potter.

"Draco and I are discussing the best course of action for returning you to Malfoy Manor," Potter said coolly and Draco cursed the boy.

"Returning us? You mean…?" Narcissa turned to look at her son. Her face was full of hope.

Harry nodded curtly. "Yes, the Minister feels it is safer for all parties involved if this place is no longer being used to house you. You will be moved this weekend."

Draco's mother looked fit to burst at the news that she would be returning to all of her finery. They locked eyes and he saw her joy falter.

"But, darling, what's wrong? You were shouting."

Draco exhaled through his nose. "I won't go back there, Mother."

Narcissa's skin got red and blotchy as he looked at her. He knew she was under a lot of pressure right now. It was very difficult for her to go against her baby's wishes.

"You have to, Draco. It's your home. It'll be good, better than this. You'll see, once you are settled in you will forget all about-"

"No," Draco cut in, gripping the arms of his chair firmly to keep his voice even. "You can go back, but I'm not. I'd rather go to Azkaban than set foot in that place again."

Narcissa gasped but he ignored her, turning to look back at Potter. "I mean it, Potter. I'm not going. You either find me somewhere else, or throw me in jail, because I won't do it." His voice was trembling now with the effort of his restraint.

What Potter did surprised him. Glancing between the two, he sighed, pushed himself out of the leather armchair and walked purposefully out of the room.

"Hey where are you going?!" Draco shouted, though he did not make to follow him. He heard the whoosh of the Floo and figured Potter had left. For the Ministry? Already he was regretting putting Azkaban on the table. If Potter called his bluff…

He was pulled from his thoughts by his mother, who hovered over him now, looking much more like the formidable woman of his youth than the passive, weak, servant she'd become for the Dark Lord.

"I can't believe you, Draco!" Narcissa hissed.

"What?"

"You'd rather go to Azkaban than live in our house?"

Draco pulled uncomfortably at his robes.

"No, of course not Mother, but the Ministry wouldn't send us-"

Narcissa cut him off with a huff and crossed her arms. "You don't give the Ministry enough credit. They'd be happy to see you locked away. You think these people are going to take care of us? No, we take care of ourselves."

Draco tried to resist rolling his eyes but was unsuccessful. "Mother, honestly, after how you helped him, you think Potter is going to throw me in Az…" but he trailed off. The boy he'd just mentioned was walking back in the room, looking exhausted but determined, and carrying a large stack of documents. Potter threw them on the table and Draco looked down.

…cabin," he finished, as Draco was now looking down at a photo of a ramshackle log cabin that appeared to be in the middle of a lush forest. According to the document, it was being sold for 1500 Galleons.

"What are those?" Draco asked, leaning forward.

"Alternatives. Safe houses. Look through them and let me know what you decide. They are uninhabited, and for sale. You'd need to purchase one if you want to reside there and you'd be responsible for everything else; furnishing, shopping, and the like. If this is what you want to do, Malfoy, the Minister will have to release a press statement letting the Wizarding world know you are out on parole because of valuable information given to the Ministry. You will be at risk, much more than at your own home or, as you mentioned, in Azkaban. We will no longer be able to give you full protection. It will be up to you not to do anything stupid."

Draco was barely listening to whatever Potter was going on about in his high-and-mighty Chosen One voice as he flipped through the properties. He noticed that they all had one thing in common.

"They are in the middle of nowhere," he said, looking at a tiny stone cottage on the Isle of Man.

Potter nodded, a frown still firmly in place. "Yes, well they are safe houses, not fancy flats in London. Mrs. Malfoy, we can still move you this weekend, if that's what you decide."

Draco had almost forgotten his mother was in the room. She stood silently over by the obscured Black family tree, her hands balled into tight fists as she watched her son interact with the Boy-Who-Lived…and lived, and bloody lived. Narcissa spared a glance at Potter and then made something of a nod before returning her glare to Draco.

"Right then," Potter said, standing up and making his way to the door without farewell.

Draco let curiosity get the best of him and called out, "Why did you try to convince me to go back when this was an option?" holding up the stack of documents.

Potter sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "Pick a place, or don't, Malfoy, but we are moving you both within the fortnight."

He watched as Potter left the room again and this time when he heard the whoosh of the Floo, he was sure it signaled his exit from the house.

Draco looked back at his mother, who was still standing as if frozen, staring at him. "Mother, you must understand why I don't want to go back there."

Narcissa's head moved slightly down, not quite a nod, but it let him know that she was not petrified. Draco shuffled through the documents showing different houses they could purchase.

"Look, some of these aren't so bad. You always said you wanted to see Northern Ireland," he said holding up a photo of a stone building that looked to be about 300 years old.

Draco's mother inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled. Then she walked over to her son and took the seat that Harry Potter had recently vacated. "Do you know how much I risked to keep you safe?" she said quietly and Draco let the parchment droop in his hands. "Everything, Draco. Our livelihood, our home, my life, I risked everything for you."

Draco frowned. He was in no mood for a guilt trip.

"I know Mother, but I'm-"

"-a spoiled brat," she finished dryly.

Draco gaped at her in shock. Never in his life…

"Why? Because I don't want to live in a house the Dark Lord used to torture and murder people?! Mother, why do you want to return there, it's going to be horrible!"

Narcissa smoothed her hands over her robes and sat up, looking more like a haughty debutant than his loving mother.

"I know as well as anyone what went on in that house, and if I can return, so can you."

Draco stared at her silently, unsure of how to respond. He had never outright defied his mother, had always loved her the most, more than his father, whom he had once revered and admired. Now that the respect he once had for his parents was diminished, all he had was love. But it wasn't enough.

"Mother…"he began but his tone seemed to set her off again.

"It is our home." Narcissa repeated slowly, as if speaking to a child. "And I'm not ready for the world to know that I am not holed away deep in Azkaban. I can't believe you told Potter to lock you up. That place would surely kill you."

Draco snorted. "Honestly Mother, if I've survived this long with the amount of danger I have faced, I'm sure I could manage a stint in Azkaban. They aren't even using dementors anymore."

"This is no laughing matter!" she yelled and Draco jerked back from her. "People want us dead, Draco! Even at the Ministry. There were many that wanted your father executed for his crimes. If they knew that you and I were out on parole, living in a little cottage in the country," she tapped her wand against the stone house looking up at them and burnt a hole in the parchment. "They would be out there with torches and pitchforks. It would be medieval."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You are overreacting, Mother. But fine, if that's what you want, move back home. You'll be safe there, I agree. But I'm not going."

Draco's mother gave him a hard look. "Well, that settles it then. I've failed as a parent." Narcissa got up and stalked towards the door.

Draco furrowed his brow, feeling conflicted. Even though he was getting one thing he wanted, he was losing something else. It was not a feeling he was accustomed to.

"Where are you going?" he called to her, the arrogance leaving his voice.

Narcissa turned and gave him a look of pure disappointment. "Out."

"What?! But Mother, we aren't allowed out. You said so yourself!"

Narcissa tapped her wand lightly on her head and suddenly he was face to face with his Aunt Andromeda, at least, how he remembered her from pictures.

"Your decision is more likely to put us in danger than anything I could do in an afternoon," his mother retorted before she exited the library, slamming the door behind her.

Draco pushed the documents away in annoyance, allowing them to spill over the table and down onto the floor. He got up and walked around the room several times, feeling something like a caged animal.

I need to get out of here.

Draco grabbed his wand and walked to the mirror. He couldn't do the decoy spell his mother had implemented, but a few taps later and he was mostly unrecognizable. His hair was black and close cropped, not unlike that of his least favorite wizard. He tapped the sides of his eyes and crow's feet appeared, making him look much older than his eighteen years. For good measure, he added a thick layer of stubble to the lower half of his jaw. Draco always wished he could grow something of a beard, but it didn't seem to be in his genetics.

After he was satisfied with his disguise Draco went upstairs and changed into his only muggle clothes; too-small jeans and a ratty t-shirt. For a moment he decided his outing would involving buying some new clothes before realizing, with a frown, that he had no muggle money.

And even he wasn't dumb enough to go into Wizarding London.

Instead, Draco left Grimmauld Place for the first time in a month and walked with purpose in the direction of the one place he knew he might find a little solace. Though he had criticized Theo's choice to work in a muggle establishment for the last two years, it was now proving to be a benefit.

By the time he arrived at the post office, Draco was drenched in sweat. It had been much further than he expected, taking almost an hour to walk there. He wiped his brow and entered the stark stuffy room. There was a long queue of people holding various packages, and not an owl in sight.

Muggles.

By the time Draco got to the front of the line most of his sweat had dried, seeing as it took the better part of another hour. Gods, this is tedious! The woman at the counter barely looked in his direction when he approached.

"Yes, hello, I'm looking for an employee of yours. It's a bit of an emergency," Draco added, but the woman did not seem to believe him, as she glanced back at a screen that flickered in and out of focus.

"Damn thing," she muttered, hitting it.

"Um, as I was saying," Draco said, with more confidence, and the women looked at him again. "Theo Black, he's an employee here."

"No," she said, her eyes sliding back to the screen.

"No? What do you mean, no?" he sneered.

Seemingly disinterested in his tone, the woman leaned back in her chair with a squeak. "I mean that Theo Black isn't an employee of this establishment. Are you sure that's his name?"

"Of course that's his name!" Draco paused, feeling a little embarrassed. "Oh, I mean, wait, Theo Nott. Does Theo Nott work here?"

The woman rolled her eyes, and her chair, pushing back from the desk to look through a door. "Nott!" she yelled, causing Draco and several Muggles to jump.

Without addressing him again she looked at the line and said "Next!" A muggle carrying a large package jostled Draco to the side in an attempt to place his burden on the counter.

A moment later Draco saw him. Gods, he looked awful. Theo was wearing a collared cotton shirt in a faded gray, a little bird embroidered on the left side of his chest. It got even worse when Draco looked down to see he was wearing khaki pants with, Merlin are those pleats?!

The woman pointed lazily in Draco's direction and their eyes met. Theo shrugged in automatic response. Draco watched as the other wizard walked around the counter and approached him.

"Outside," Theo muttered and continued through the doors.

When they were alone Theo turned to stare into his disguised face. "What animal made you cry when we were seven years old?" he asked and Draco rolled his eyes.

"A turtle, you git."

Theo shrugged. "I had to check. What the hell-"

But he was cut off by Draco who held a hand up, sneering. "Now me. Who was your first kiss?"

Theo shrugged again and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his trouser pocket. "You know it's me, Draco."

Draco smirked. "I know, I just like to hear you say it."

"Phineas Mead," Theo muttered as he lit the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Phineas," Draco repeated, chuckling. "What a dumb name."

Theo looked at him sternly. "You're one to talk, Draco. Now what the hell are you doing here? Just last week I think you're in Azkaban and now you're at my place of work looking like a shipwrecked pirate!"

Draco looked down at his tattered clothes.

"It was the best I could do on short notice. And will you keep your voice down? There's no reason for me to even be in disguise if you are shouting my name."

Theo shrugged. "No reason for you to be in disguise anyway, I'm sure I'm the only wizard for miles in this neighbourhood. Speaking of which, how did you get here?"

"Walked. It was bloody far, too."

Theo nodded absentmindedly, his focus on his cigarette. "So you're close by? In London?"

Draco sighed. "Yes, but not for long. Potter came to see me today. I reckon you spoke with him?"

Shrug. "Yes. Did you get in trouble? He said something about a 'security breach'." Theo made quotes in the air.

Draco frowned. "Oh, fuck him."

"No thanks," Theo said dryly, causing Draco to laugh.

"No, he came by to tell me they want to send us back to the Manor."

Shrug. "Well, better than nothing, right?" Theo said, pulling another cigarette.

"Merlin, how many of those are you going to smoke?" Draco complained as he lit it.

Shrug. "I only get fifteen minutes."

"Right. Anyway, I'm not going back there." He glanced at Theo whose left eyebrow was cocked in curiosity. Draco went on the defensive. "You don't know what it was like, Theo."

Now both of Theo's eyebrows were raised. Draco threw up a hand. "Alright, you do know what it was like. So you know why I can't go back there. Mother is livid. But I'm not a child anymore, she can't make me go."

Theo actually let out a rare laugh. "You know you sound an awful lot like a child when you say 'She can't make me.' Besides, you might not be a child, but you are a criminal. How are you not in Azkaban?"

Draco averted his eyes. There was silence for a full minute except for the faint crackle of Theo's cigarette and the sound of him exhaling.

"I'm not judging you, you know that. But it was a dangerous move, giving information on Death Eaters."

Draco glared at him. "Don't you think I know that? What choice did I have?"

Theo gave a bored sigh and threw another cigarette butt into the bin by the curb.

"You know, if I had a galleon for every time I've heard you say that I needn't had to lobby for my inheritance."

Draco scowled but changed the subject. "But you did, so when are you going to quit this horrible place? Surely you don't need the money."

Theo shrugged yet again. Draco hated Theo's shrugging more than anything else. More than the smoking, more than the…blokes…but he knew it was involuntary and pointing it out didn't seem to help.

"I told them I'd finish out the summer. I'm not doing anything else and it might be nice to put some space between my father's death and my triumphant return to the Wizarding world," Theo said sarcastically, pulling yet another cigarette.

"You are really lucky wizards can't get cancer," he muttered.

Shrug. "I'm glad you care. I really only need that money for the Academy. Otherwise I'd rather not have it. I'm sure I know at least some of the ways it was earned and not all of them were especially savory."

Draco nodded and gestured at the ugly, tan box of a building. "Well, I suppose I'm glad you are still here, seeing as I wouldn't have been able to contact you otherwise. Now, as I said, I'm not going back to Malfoy Manor."

Theo shrugged in response, looking down the street in disinterest.

Draco exhaled heavily. "Well, the only other option is purchasing another property, a safe house."

Theo glanced at him, a smirk playing on his thin lips. "Going to buy yourself a little castle? Draco's Keep. I like it, go on."

Draco rolled his eyes. Theo's sense of humour was practically non-existent but when it came out, it was usually at his expense.

"Hilarious. Anyway, Mother's taking issue because once I do the Minister will release a statement saying I'm out on parole and…"

Draco trailed off as Theo inhaled suddenly and then began coughing, his face looking strained and old.

"Are you-cough-fucking-cough-insane?!" Theo half-shouted, half-hacked.

Draco frowned. He'd hoped that if his mother wasn't on his side, at least he'd have the support of Theo, who, for as much as they'd grown apart over the years, was the closest thing he had to a brother.

"I thought you'd be pleased. I'd be allowed to send letters and I'd even be able to have visitors."

Theo caught his breath and glared down at him, the extra few inches of height he had on Draco making themselves uncomfortably obvious at this moment.

"Great, so every elusive Death Eater can just come over and have a spot of tea! Are you really that fucking reckless?"

Draco balled his hands into fists. "I can't go back there, Theo! What choice-"

But he was cut off as Theo slapped his hand roughly against the building. "Don't you dare say 'What choice do I have?' I'm so tired of hearing you say that! Every time you say it you are justifying some stupid, dangerous, irresponsible thing you've done or are about to do. You're supposed to be intelligent!"

Draco took a step back. Theo might have a Death Eater for a father, a man more notorious than his own, but his temper was almost always subdued. Seeing him flare up like this Draco glimpsed a shadow of the violent maniac that had raised him.

Draco stayed quiet as he watched Theo compose himself. Several shrugs and half a cigarette later, Theo spoke.

"This is why she won't speak to you, Draco. You don't look at the collateral damage."

Draco frowned. Leave it to Theo to pull Astoria into this.

"Well, she's not speaking to me now, so I don't see how moving house is going to make a difference." When Theo didn't respond Draco pushed forward. "Anyhow, I haven't decided where I'll be, but once I have the address I'll owl you. It'll likely be in the middle of nowhere but-"

"You can't," Theo muttered, running a hand through his ashy brown hair.

"Why?"

Theo looked exasperated. "Are you hearing me? You, a former Death Eater, can't send me, Theodore Nott, an owl with your location once it's known that you are a free man. Go home, Draco. Move past all that other shit and just be…I don't know…better."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. It was becoming clear that he was in this alone.

"I can't. I'll go mad. I thought I was going to, at Easter. I'm serious, Theo."

Theo flicked his fourth cigarette butt into the bin, exhaling the smoke through his nose like a dragon. "Speaking as a bit of an expert on madness, I'd say you are overreacting. But whatever you decide, don't pull her into it. Or me, for that matter. I'm tired of being tangled up in all of this and I just want to start living some sort of life, now that he's dead."

Draco looked down at his shoes. "Well, that's what I want too."

Theo glanced at him before shrugging again. Draco literally bit his tongue.

"You're not going to be able to live your life if you're dead," Theo said coolly, walking back towards the door and disappearing inside. Draco stood there for a moment, somewhat stunned.

He had just turned to walk home when he heard Theo call to him.

"Hey, Draco."

He turned back.

Theo looked exhausted and sad, but gave him a little smirk anyway.

"Happy Birthday."

A/N: Tomorrow's chapter is from the POV of Ernie Macmillan. By tomorrow, I mean in the story as I don't *usually* post chapters back to back unless I've gotten very behind or am feeling especially generous. ;)

I try to post at least one a week and ideally I'd post two. (This is in a response to an anon question I received about when I post, in case you were wondering.)

About Theo: He is well developed in my plot and has a rather cemented storyline. If you have any questions about his personality, traits or lifestyle, feel free to send them my way or just wait it out. All will be revealed in time.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing!