Note: Again, thank you so much for reading. I really did not expect quarantine to bring my fully back into my Harry Potter phase, and as I mentioned earlier, I haven't written anything outside of academic works in years. I really appreciate all of the follows / reviews / etc. which was not expected at all!

As a heads up, I post these on here so that I can listen to them back on the app and make edits, so if you catch any errors, hopefully I will as well, just a bit later. I re-post the edited chapters, and then a few days later I also post them on AO3 under the same username, if you enjoy that site more. I also literally just moved to Word, which will hopefully make the grammar and other mistakes a bit better.

Thank you again!

Lucius Malfoy would have hated his own funeral. He had lived his life as a man of pomp and circumstance; he had been a man who had surrounded himself with flocks of white peacocks and Ministry delegations. Draco was sure that his father had expected to leave the world in the same way he had lived it.

Instead, Lucius Malfoy was buried on a quiet March morning, surrounded by a handful of his peers and the family he had left behind.

The Malfoy family, once small, was now an endangered species.

Draco had moved through the morning in a daze, dropping by his mother's room in his formal black robes to find her still asleep. He had gently woken her, Narcissa pulling her wand on him just as she had every other time she had been startled over the past few days. Draco had summoned Zilly to help her get dressed before meeting the ministry wizard out near the Malfoy Mausoleum where his father would be laid to rest.

He was grateful for a moment - the funeral would enable his mother to touch his father's items again, meaning she would be moving back into the East wing of the Manor where he resided. He hadn't told her - he hadn't told anyone - the intense fear he had of leaving his mother among the rooms where the rest of the Death Eaters would often spend evenings. He held on to that small item of reprieve as he proceeded through the day.

In true Malfoy fashion, as the eldest surviving Malfoy heir, he had been the one to levitate his father's body from the parlor where the vigil had been held out to the grassy field on the property. He had stumbled once, his father's body bumping over the air but had managed to follow all procedures in a way he thought his father would have been appreciative of. Not overjoyed, of course, but Draco had remembered his father doing the same with his grandfather's body and felt that he had at least lived up to expectations.

Lived up to expectations for once, a cruel voice in his head had said.

The funeral was small. Rowan Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Thomas Nott, Walden MacNair, Antonin Dolohov and Corban Yaxley - much of the inner circle that Lucius had belonged to - had shown up. Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle had shown up with their fathers, and Theo had come as well. Draco had been surprised that Severus hadn't made an appearance, but he was often out doing unknown tasks for the Dark Lord. Fleetingly, he wondered if Severus had even been informed that his father was no longer alive.

Aunt Bella had sauntered in with his uncle, making a fuss that caused Narcissa Malfoy to fully fall apart, her small body shaking with sobs. Draco had frowned at Bella, who merely shrugged and sauntered over to MacNair, asking about some inane ministry policy.

The service itself was unmemorable. It was short, just as he had requested when he walked the wizard down across the land. There were a few words Draco didn't hear from the ministry wizard, the casting of the Dark Mark into the air, and a quick vigil before his father's peers began to disapparate away. Yaxley had given Draco a firm handshake and a wink as he congratulated him on being the head of the Malfoy family and offered to look after his mother in the future. Over her husband's grave, the other man had offered to draw up a contract for the grieving widow to spend the rest of her days with him.

Draco had wanted to vomit.

Instead, he had waited all of them out. Waited until his father's body had been placed away for the rest of time. Waited until Aunt Bella finally provided some help, disapparating his mother back to her room. And then he had finally turned to face his friends, his occlumency finally falling. Greg, Vince, and Theo had stood there silently until Theo sprang into action, directing the other two men back to Draco's sitting room, the two of them leaving with a pop.

Draco felt his chest heave as he drew in large gulps of spring air. He turned away from Theo, facing the marble mausoleum once more to place his hands on it for support.

"Easy," he heard his friend behind him, feeling the other man's steadying hands on his shoulders as he emptied his stomach onto the ground. "It's going to be okay," Theo muttered quietly.

Draco whirled on him, eyes watering. He saw the surprise flit across Theo's face before sympathy overtook it; the other man had never been as good at hiding his emotions as Draco had.

"How," Draco hissed, "is it going to be okay?"

Theo looked at Draco levelly for a moment before shrugging his shoulders in a casual motion that pulled a low growl from his friend's chest.

"I dunno," Theo finally said before clapping a hand on Draco's upper arm and repeating himself more softly.

Draco spent a moment pulling as much of himself back together before looking at his friend again. The two men stood in silence, blue eyes meeting grey.

"I don't want it," Draco finally whispered, swiping at his wet face with a handkerchief someone had pressed into his hand earlier in the day. "I don't want to be the Lord of Malfoy Manor. I don't want to take my father's Wizengamot seat." As he started talking, he could feel his voice raising but did nothing to reign it in as his anger grew.

"I want to go back to school and take my fucking exams, not do this!" he said, throwing an arm out and gesticulating wildly. Theo nodded solemnly as his Draco's voice continued to rise.

"I don't want to look after a mudblood or do any of these tasks! I'm tired of being the one who has to keep this household in order and get punished for every failing!"

Draco's voice rose to a scream, but when he said the last word it felt like the air was pushed out of his chest. He fell forward, landing heavily on his knees. He knew he didn't have the leeway to fall apart in such a way, but standing there with nowhere else to turn, Draco felt his helplessness closing in.

It wasn't the same helplessness that he had felt last year, standing in front of an impossible task, this was something worse. He now knew the only way forward that he had left in front of him. There were no Hogwarts professors to turn to any longer. Severus was no longer looking over his shoulder, ensuring he was on the right track. There was no longer the thought that he could walk to the headmaster's office and confess his sins and accept whatever punishment would be handed down to him.

And there was no more of his father. No one to go to for backup, no one who understood this utter disgrace of having to limp home after being Crucio-ed one too many times as a Malfoy. There was no other man who understood the pressure of having been born into one of the purest bloodlines that Britain had seen in years. His father was no longer there for the guidance and approval that Draco so desperately sought. To make it worse, he hadn't even really had his father towards the end. The man who had stumbled through the Manor wandless and drunk was not Lucius Malfoy. Draco's last days had been with a shell of the father he had once aspired to be.

Their last days together had been as shells of their former selves due to their pledge to another man. Now, there was no escaping the mark that had sunk into the skin on his left arm.

And so, he allowed himself the brief moment of nothingness. He didn't notice Theo kneeling in front of him, both of them dirtying their good robes. He hardly felt the pressure of his friend's hand on his arm, or the moment when his oldest friend pulled him into a loose embrace as he sobbed. There was no care for his mother, or the Dark Lord, or even Granger.

There was nothing else but his grief.

And for once he allowed himself to be swept up in all that he had lost.

When Draco and Theo finally showed up to Draco's room, neither Vince nor Greg said anything of his red-rimmed eyes, for which he was grateful. The two larger men had already grabbed bottles of liquor from the wine cellar –which had been continually raided by the newfound residents of Malfoy Manor – and were starting to pour their first glasses.

Draco lowered himself onto the bench under the window, nodding as Greg placed a crystal glass of Ogden's Finest into his hand. The ice clinked as Draco gulped down the entire amount before placing the tumbler on the table for Greg to refill.

Vince laughed lightly, though his beady eyes were sharp. "Cheers, mate."

Draco could do nothing besides helplessly watch as his friends tittered.

"Reminds me of Zabini, drinking like that," Greg added, his voice also too light for the situation.

Theo plopped down next to Draco, clapping an arm on his shoulder as he reached for the bottle, filling up his own glass for the first time before adding more to Draco's. The other man locked eyes with each of his companions one at a time as he held his glass in the air. Draco snorted at the gesture, but Theo only rolled his eyes, before looking pointedly at Draco's now full glass.

Appeasing his friend, Draco grabbed the glass from the sitting room table, gently holding it in front of his face.

"To the Dark Lord," Theo began, clearing his throat. "May he live long and bring about a new era of purity. And to those we will lose to his great mission along the way. To Lucius Malfoy."

"To Lucius Malfoy," Greg and Vince echoed before they all drank silently.

While Theo would never admit it, there was something that laced his voice, a darkness just beneath the surface. Perhaps Draco only recognized it because the same tone was present in his own, but it was something far too dangerous. He trusted these men as much as he could, which was still not a lot. While he never thought they would intentionally bring his fearful thoughts to the Dark Lord, there was no question that their mental shields were all weaker than his own.

None of them were put under as much pressure, of course. Only a select few routinely had their memories shuffled through, and unfortunately Draco was one of the chosen.

And while Draco trusted Theo more than the other two, he refused to allow his mind to settle on why that was. Every bitter look and shifted tone were filed away deep within his mind. Each time Theo's eyes would dart to Draco's, every time either man threw up after a mission, every slight hesitation before a curse, were all carefully cut from his memories and stowed deep within the boxes in his mind that he refused to touch.

Draco knew the boxes would fade. Those moments of doubt would slowly disappear if only Theo was more subtle. The men couldn't have a full conversation – certainly not with others in the room – but he hoped they understood each other well enough. A full conversation would be too hard to hide; it would open up the cracks that the Dark Lord had not found before.

So, To Lucius Malfoy and a raised glass was what Draco had to judge by.

Shaking his head to rid them of his thoughts, he allowed his mind to blank as best it could. He could tell that Theo was displeased with the slackening of his face by the way his eyes flashed, but Greg and Vince hardly noticed as Greg jokingly poured another round.

He could ignore his thoughts in this way. Mindlessly nodding along, conversing when needed, focused primarily on the smoky taste on his tongue.

It was on his fifth glass that he wondered if he was turning into his father.

It was getting dark outside when he reached his sixth.

By then, the men had brought out a deck of cards, playing a game of hands. Greg and Vince had gotten in a joking tiff over who was dealt the better cards, bursting into uproarious laughter when Draco had set his hand down, beating them both. Just like at Hogwarts, he had pulled the pile of Sickles towards himself, flipping one through his fingers and relishing the feeling of the hard gold.

Theo dealt another round and Draco won again, causing Vince to accuse him of cheating before slumping over himself shaking with laughter. At that point, he had called Zilly to escort the two men back to the North wing of the house and find them rooms for the evening, and the three figures were gone with a pop.

Draco reclined, stretching his feet onto an ottoman and enjoying the silence, only Theo's breathing reminding him that someone else was in the room. Both men seemed content to sit quietly, the only noise the clinking of their ice in their glasses as they sipped.

"You cleaned them out tonight," Theo finally joked. Draco snorted.

"They can think of it as payment for all the liquor they've helped themselves to from the cellar," he responded, hearing the slight slur of his own words and feeling how heavy his tongue was. Theo laughed.

"Mmm," he mumbled, and Draco heard him take another long sip. "Y'know as a kid this would've been my dream."

"Theo," Draco warned, knowing even drunk that this was too dangerous of a topic.

He heard Theo laugh again and opened one eye to see the other man wave his hand as if shooing a fly away.

"Not this," he said darkly. "The ruin of the Malfoy family was all my father used to be able to talk about. Lucius beat him in this, and his son was better than his son in that."

Draco swallowed, closing his eyes again. He had known the boys of Slytherin were jealous of him, but he was surprised at the little pang of guilt at hearing it from his best friend as Theo continued.

"I thought so too, y'know. For a while in second year, all I could think about was how much better than me you were at everything. That Theo would find this all so hilarious."

Draco scoffed as if laughing off a joke but reminded himself that this was important to his friend. "And this Theo?" he finally asked. There was a silence, and finally Draco opened his eyes to find Theo's green ones staring into his own. They looked at each other for a long moment before Theo finally shrugged, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes once more.

"I beat you in two subjects that year, and three in third year-"

"Oy, I was injured!" Theo laughed again.

"By a bloody flying horse bird!" he said, and both boys finally fell into a casual laughter, removed enough from the actual situation to find it funny. When they stopped, Draco opened his eyes once more, waiting until Theo did the same. They sat in the comfortable silence for a moment before Theo finally continued.

"No," he said, voice serious as he shook his sandy blond hair from his eyes. "I'm not jealous of you at all."

The intensity of Theo's gaze was startling, and Draco took a deep breath, steadying himself. The room was spinning slightly and for a moment Draco would have sworn that Theo's eyes darted down to his lips, but before he could question it, the moment was gone. Theo stood suddenly, stretching his long arms above his head.

"Can I stay?" he said, hiccupping slightly as he inclined his head to the adjoining room that he often occupied.

For a moment, Draco thought of simpler times. Of evenings spent playing Quidditch out in the gardens and swimming in the pond before coming back to collapse in his chambers. Of course, while those times may have been simpler for him, they certainly weren't for Theo, who often fled to Malfoy Manor to escape his father's fists. If Draco closed his eyes tight enough, he could still see the dark bruises that only became visible when Theo would peel off his clothing with an apologetic shrug to go swimming.

Draco was so wrapped up in his own thoughts for a moment that he didn't think twice, waving a hand for Theo to let himself into his potions room as per usual. He was finally allowing himself to focus back on childhood memories, on something less treacherous than the rest of the thoughts in his mind when he heard a quiet scream and then Theo's chortling laugh.

He was reminded of his unwanted guest with a shock, quickly moving to his feet to help Theo shut her back into her room and send him to the other wing of the house.

His brain was reeling, making plans at a pace that was steps behind where it should be, the firewhisky clouding his brain. Perhaps that was why he was caught off guard as he stepped through the doorway behind Theo.

There sat the reminder of his failures.

She was no longer wearing the silky nightgown he had left her in, instead, she had donned one of the dresses he had sent the elves to pick up from Diagon Alley, a deep blue shift dress that reminded him of something one of the Greengrass girls would wear. Her hair was braided down her back, and while she still looked sickly, again his mind latched onto how plainly pretty she looked.

Theo was articulating similar thoughts to her, as she stared back disdainfully.

"I'd almost forgotten that the Dark Lord granted you a bedwarmer," the other man joked, glancing away from Granger and back at Draco.

Draco felt his face pinch, the combination of Granger and the liquor making his occlumency skills weaker than usual. He opened his mouth to respond, but Granger beat him to it.

"I'm not a bedwarmer," she spat, fixing Draco with a hateful look. Theo chuckled again and Draco fought the urge to throttle his friend.

"Mmm?" Theo asked, taking another step towards Granger and sinking into the armchair in front of her.

Granger had been sitting on the floor, but scrambled backwards, knocking over a stack of books. She immediately looked back at the pile that was spread across the carpet, a concerned frown marring her face and Draco took the moment to fully look at what she had been doing before they entered. Next to Granger's bare legs sat a tray of dinner, from which it looked like she had barely eaten. Stacks of books were around her, some piled as high as she was tall sitting down. Draco briefly wondered where she had found all the books, but his eyes found that his bookshelves completely empty.

"Mmh," Granger confirmed, anger present him her huffy tone.

"This gives me Hogwarts flashbacks, you Draco?" Theo asked, looking over at him. Draco shook his head wordlessly, trying to convey to the other man that he didn't want to deal with Granger at the moment, but his friend appeared to be having too good of a time taunting the brunette to notice. Draco rolled his eyes but stepped fully into the room to take in the piles on the floor.

He stooped to pick up one of the books and heard Granger breathe in sharply, and his eyes snapped to hers. She was watching him carefully with annoyance and something else present in her eyes. Fear, he realized with a jolt, noticing the way her hands shook slightly and her eyes darted between the two men, as if scared to let them get too close or catch her off guard.

Draco grunted noncommittedly, looking at his fourth-year potions book which he held in his hands.

"Brushing up, Granger?" he asked, waving the book slightly as he tossed it down on another one of her piles. She frowned as it touched the other stack, but shook her head slowly, as if sudden movements would startle him.

"Organizing," she responded, voice still curt.

"And is this what you'd call organized?" Theo asked, gesturing at the stacks that were scattered on the carpet in front of him. Granger flushed prettily, but shook her head at the other boy, a semblance of a smile on her face. She raised her eyebrows quickly in an unconscious taunt.

"Sorting by what to read, since I don't have any privileges," she said, eyes darting to Draco, the fear returning. Theo laughed again.

"What has he promised you then?" the other man prompted, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees.

Those scared hazel eyes looked towards him once more, before flashing back to Theo.

"The library," she said tentatively, "and maybe outside."

"Outside!" Theo exclaimed in mock surprise, throwing a hand over his mouth as if scandalized. "Is he going to let you try to catch those blasted white peacocks?"

A small giggle escaped Granger's mouth. Theo leaned even further forward, making eye contact with Granger who looked just as surprised at the noise as Draco was sure that he himself did. Draco wasn't sure what he was feeling in his chest, be it because it was unfamiliar, or he had become so good at suppressing his own emotions he didn't know anymore. He watched, still standing, as Granger pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and clamped down on it with her own teeth as if scared that she would let out another noise of joy.

Theo finally looked away, taking a moment to look at Draco who felt stiff; like he was intruding on a moment between two old friends. Granger's eyes turned to him as well, and with the ever-present fear that was in her eyes he felt angry. Draco was almost certain the two had never met before, and he felt something else stir in his chest.

"Shut up, Theo," he snarled, watching as his friend only smirked at him. It was only Granger who flinched backwards at his harsh tone.

Theo ignored him, merely laughing as he looked back at Granger with a conspiratorial wink before looking down at her half-eaten dinner tray. A biscuit sat nearest to him and his eyes flashed to hers. He raised his eyebrows and looked back at the biscuit, making sure her eyes followed.

"You going to eat that?" he asked, already reaching for the snack and flashing her a toothy smile. He bit into it before she had even answered, crumbs spilling down his front.

"That's fucking disgusting," Draco said with a scowl, watching as Granger's light smile fled the moment he began talking. Theo smiled and took another taunting bite, obviously inebriated.

Granger smiled again, looking up at Theo with big eyes, as if she couldn't quite believe the scene that was unfolding in front of her. Draco took another step towards the pair, and immediately Granger's eyes were back to watching him as she slid backwards on the carpet to put more distance between the two of them. His anger flared again, despite not knowing exactly where it came from. Theo watched the pair with a knowing glint in his eyes that Draco didn't have the capacity to think about.

"Why aren't you eating?" Draco demanded, looking down at the small witch. "Are you trying to starve yourself to death?"

Granger had been given a sandwich and soup, not dissimilar to what the four boys had snacked on with their drinks. She had obviously only taken a few bites of the sandwich but had finished half the soup and taken a few small sips of the pumpkin juice. He could see the spread of potions vials, already drained for the evening.

Granger shrugged as she glared at him, steel in her brown eyes. "Not really hungry."

He knew he was being irrational, that for the second time in as many days she was going to push him over some unexpected edge he had not foreseen. His body tensed as he got ready to berate his peer as if she was a child.

"Draco," Theo said softly, causing him to whirl on his foot to face his friend, but Theo was already back looking at Granger who was crossing her legs below her body to sit more comfortably. "Granger, are you feeling okay?"

Her eyes flickered between the two men, before finally settling back on his friend. "I-" she started, and even from his position standing above her Draco could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. She bit her lip again, before starting with a voice that was surprisingly strong.

"I hadn't been eating much before, and with everything else, it's just a little painful."

He felt another rush of guilt, and Draco could feel his own eyes softening, but Granger was staring resolutely at the floor.

"So, more soup?" Theo joked, pushing the hair from his face. Granger looked up at him with that same soft half-smile from before, nodding her head.

"Thanks," she whispered, so soft that both boys leaned forward to catch her words. Theo clapped his hands together, nodding very seriously for a man who was obviously quite far from sobriety.

"Well, now that's all sorted, perhaps it's time for bed. Draco, if you wouldn't mind, I'm happy to take to take another room in this wing?"

Draco almost said that he did mind but Theo was already extending a hand to Granger to help pull her up from the floor. She looked at it tentatively before gracefully stretching out her own fingers to place her hand in his. Draco had been so cognizant of not touching the girl that he almost broke with the ease which Theo did; he almost broke out in one of his father's rants about dirty blood but held himself back as he watched the two interact.

Theo had pulled Granger off the floor and was making some off-color joke when suddenly she froze, her eyes fixated on the portion of his sleeve that had ridden up.

Not much of the mark was exposed, but there on Theo's arm was a portion of ink that marked him as a servant of the Dark Lord. The skin around the black mark was red and cracked, similar to Draco's own mark, which he refrained from touching. Theo noticed Granger's gaze immediately, using his other hand to pull his robes down over the mark, but it was too late. Something in the room had already broken.

Granger took a wobbly step backwards, wincing in obvious discomfort, her eyes never leaving Theo's left arm. The other man sighed heavily, reaching out to offer to escort Granger back towards the bed, but at the movement the other woman looked up, startled. Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, shaking her head. Again, Draco was struck by just how small she was, almost a full head shorter than both him and Theo.

Theo began to say her name, but she cut him off quickly. "I'd like to go to bed now, if that's alright," she said quietly, looking back at the floor as she began to fidget with her hands. Theo shot Draco a helpless look, but he felt unsure of what to offer his friend. At the end of the day, it didn't matter what Granger thought of him. She was a prisoner, and the less attached to her he was, the better.

Besides, it wasn't like he and Granger were able to be friends in such a house. Not when they could be summoned away at any moment by the Dark Lord. Not with his master's obsessive view on personal relationships and the manipulation of such. Maybe Theo didn't know. Maybe Theo didn't fully understand the mental torture Draco went through on a regular basis. To be forced to live in a house where every interaction could lead to punishment; shoving every moment of joy with Theo or his mother or Vince or Greg away so that he didn't put them in any more danger than absolutely necessary. He refused to allow himself to think of Pansy, and he didn't even like her that much anymore.

To add anyone else to that short list would be too much, so he just shook his head and moved towards the door hearing Theo follow him out.

The door shut behind the two men automatically and they both stood silently for a moment, as if listening to see what the witch on the other side of the door would do.

It was silent.

Finally, Theo turned towards Draco and opened his mouth to speak.

"She's gotten pretty, eh?" He laughed, though the air was still tense. Draco closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, groaning. He had made a point to avoid lies, finding that he often withheld the truth instead. Theo deserved the truth in that moment.

"S'not worth it to think about," he responded. Theo blew a heavy breath out of his mouth before smirking at Draco.

"Maybe it'll be good for you."

Draco did not allow himself to think about what that meant.