Chapter 9

Autumn was coming in with a vengeance after a scorching summer with winds that were ripping at the back of Draco's neck. He pulled up the collar of his neck to keep the skin from getting burnt as he walked with Blaise through a market in muggle London. Taking in the atmosphere with leaves of red, orange, and yellow next to pumpkins of all shapes and sizes put out as decorations next to shop doors and in their windows entranced him. This had always been his favorite time of year and he was pleasantly surprised at how well muggles accentuated the season without magic. Having witnessed muggle decorations in America, he had thought he was impressed then, but something about the feeling of being back in London with the addition to fall, it made it seem more magical than he could have ever anticipated from the nonmagical community.

With hands in his pockets, he pulled the front of his coat closed as another gust of wind billowed through the street and lifted up his head to embrace the fresh air that was mixing with the warming scents of cider and fresh pumpkin bread. Blaise had stopped to flirt with a petite red head at a coffee stand giving Draco the time to observe the paintings across the street, another thing, he realized, muggles were able to do well without magic.

"3000 pounds?" Blaise asked seeing Draco observing a smaller painting of a sailboat on rough waters and an exquisite purple and blue sky behind it.

"About 1000 galleons." Draco answered. "The artist was color blind and is now dead." Draco explained after Blaise gave an exasperated look.

"But it doesn't even move." Blaise said under his breath shaking his head.

The two of them meandered through the market, Blaise stopping every so often to flirt with an unsuspecting muggle girl running one of the shops until the sky turned a brilliant orange and pink as the sun began to set. Deciding it was past time to get some food, they left.

When they arrived at Draco's flat, he noticed his living room light was on from the street and cursed. Astoria had forced her way through the new wards. To add insult to injury, Sebastian had noticed Draco from Hermione's window and looked as if he wanted to send a hex through the window. He turned to Blaise and insisted on them going to his place.

"Yeah fine." He agreed. "I'll have Possey make us something."

"I might need to employee a house elf of my own, it might keep Astoria out."

"What happened to yours anyway?"

"Well, Dobby was freed in our second year because of Potter. Zorka and Merki were released and went to Hogwarts when my Father was sent to Azkaban, and I sent Estrela there when my mother died. No point in keeping her at the manor with no one to take care of."

An hour later, the two of them were sitting in the breakfast nook enjoying the shepherd's pie that Blaise's house elf cooked with a draft to wash it down. Only once Draco had started on his second glass did Blaise bring up the topic of Astoria and why Draco was still with her.

"You're miserable, mate. Can't even go to your own bloody house." Blaise said. "It's bloody mental."

Draco confessed he agreed and looked down at his plate. This was a sentiment he shared with Blaise, but every time he had gotten close to ending it, something came over him and he didn't want Astoria to leave, then they would shag. He'd wake up the next day regretting it, kick her out and the whole cycle would started again.

Blaise shook his head. "At least you'll get a proper congratulations for officially getting the position at the Ministry." He winked.

"Ha! I don't know how proper it would be. Fun, but definitely not proper." Draco laughed, knowing he wasn't even going to tell her.

The two friends sat talking for several more hours celebrating his new position at the Ministry and discussing Blaise's plan to get Luna to agree to a date with him finally. Something he had been trying to procure since their sixth year. Being that Blaise was not associated with Voldemort in anyway, he was one of the few Slytherins not ostracized in their final years as well as one of the few other Slytherins that returned to take their NEWTS. It was not until Possey offered to make Draco up a bed that did he realize just how late it was and decided to go home via floo. As expected, Astoria was asleep in his bed, but this time, he didn't let the closeness of her intoxicate him leading to a poor decision, so he fell asleep on his couch.

Draco tossed himself onto his side during his alcohol induced sleep;

Darkness cleared so Draco could see Nathier Travers with blue lips and eyelids lying in a autumn leaf littered graveyard with a crow perched on the headstone he was slumped against. It was watching Draco as he moved around with heavy footfalls to take in the ominous scene. Suddenly darkness took over again, then a black haze opened to to Marcus Flint, grey skinned and floating in a lake of blood as Draco sat in a small wooden boat next to him. He went to reach for him, to pull him into the boat but his hand went right through the body as the crow circling above sent a bone chilling call into the open sky. The scene morphed again to Narcissa Malfoy, positioned elegantly upon a chase lounge in the middle of a beautiful wood, blood from her wrists staining the white fabric with small white and blue lights floating in the air around her. A beautiful albino snake with brilliant red eyes was winding itself around the clawed feet of the furniture, staining its underbelly as it formed a tail of blood along the path it was weaving. Throwing himself to his knees, he tried to hold her, to tell her he was going to avenge her, but no sound came from him.

Tears were falling and cold sweat covered his forehead when he sat upright on his couch looking around the lightening room. The sky outside his window was a deep indigo and he could see small birds dancing in the trees. Rubbing his hands over his face he inhaled deeply and pulled himself up to shower to get ready for the day. He knew there was not a chance he was going to fall back asleep after seeing his mother in such a way.

Shaking, he slowly made his way upstairs to quickly take a shower, wanting to leave before Astoria woke up so he could remain alone. Feeling slightly bad for leaving without talking to her, he left a small note to her telling her that he had a lead to follow up. Which was not technically a lie, but it wasn't in regard to what she might think.

Starting during his sixth year of Hogwarts, he would frequent the far side of the Black Lake, take time out to sit and think or clear his mind. Whichever he needed at the time. It was the one location on the grounds that few students would work their way towards. It was too out of the way, especially when the weather turned cold. Once he began his post-school training, he had trouble finding a place of such solitude in America. He had to settle for libraries and cafés.

He came back to England when his mother died, and after being bombarded by family, friends, and reporters, he needed a place to get away. A place they could not follow him. But Hogwarts was out of the question, being that he was not able to easily apparate into or around the grounds. Instead, he took a chance and thought of a place that might offer him the solitude he needed. A place away from it all with fresh air that would allow him to grieve properly. Spinning on his heel, he ended up here then, and why he was here now.

A wild grassy field with a single aged wiggentree close to the edge of a large lake with a backdrop of rolling hills. There was a root of the tree that had arched perfectly to offer a backrest while sitting on the smooth boulder next to it, allowing Draco a comfortable spot to rest while reading the letter and leather journal he bought with him.

Opening the letter from his mother, he reread it for what seemed the thousandth time since he had found it. Her sophisticated script had loops and swirls that made her words look like works of art that should be displayed for all to enjoy.

Dearest Draco,

Love. Pure love. It is so rare to find, my son. That is why it is considered the most powerful magic in the world. This magic, my love, is everything you deserve from this dark and terrible world. Find this, and use this magic, the most powerful magic of pure love, to be the light of the Malfoy name. Remain pure in your ambitions, follow your heart always. And when the darkness of the longest night threatens, remember, my beautiful son, that the dragon never sets and shall always guide those worthy back to the clarity of a new day. Stay loyal to the man you want to be, and the world will see you for the pure heart that you are. And remember, my dragon, not all traditions need to continue. I love you, my son, my dragon, my Draco.

I love you fully, purely, always.

It did not matter how many times Draco had read the letter; he still felt the love of his mother radiate from the page. Whoever killed her, he thought, whoever decided to take it upon themselves to rid the world of her beauty, was going to pay dearly for it.

As he was folding up the letter, he noticed the wording of one of her sentences. Observing the seal on the envelope again, he noted it was clearly decades old and put the thought out of his mind. He laid his head back on the root and observed the landscape. The early morning sun was peaking over the hills and reflected off the mirrored surface of the lake while autumn leaves danced across the water.

With a breath, he picked up his father's journal and stared at the worn leather as he ran his hand over the soft cover. He had yet to read what his father had actually written and still was not sure he really wanted to. He saw the time frame of the entries and knew they had started almost a year before the downfall of the Dark Lord and Draco's birth. He could probably guess which took priority, he just wanted to put off having the confirmation laid out for him.

A kelpie brought its head out of the water and began splashing around, giving Draco something to watch in order to clear his mind. The brisk morning air grazed across his face like a soft kiss causing him to relax into the roots behind him again. The sounds of the water and breeze rustling the tree, he did not realize he was beginning to drift back into sleep.

When he woke up, the sun was as bright as it would be on a summer day but without the heat. His eyes finally focusing, he saw a bowtruckle was sitting on his nose. Knowing the defensive nature of them when it came to protecting their trees, all Draco did was widen his eyes and wait for it to move, not wanting to get his eyes gauged out. It was tilting its head as if it was trying to figure out why Draco was there.

"I'm just visiting. Reading." Draco said to it hoping it would understand.

It must have because it jumped from Draco's nose to his shoulder and held up its twig-like hands as if to tell Draco to go ahead, but he was going to keep an eye on him. A huff of a laugh escaped his nose as he readjusted to a better reading position and picked up the journal once again.

"Should I read it, ya think?" Draco asked the creature, who answered with an odd noise. "I have been torn too."

Finally opening the journal, he looked at the first entry dated September 19, 1979. "That's an ironic date, you know." Draco looked at his shoulder, the bowtruckle tilted its head making Draco smile. "I can't believe I'm talking to a bowtruckle. Luna would be so proud."

He quickly scanned the entry of masculine script and saw that the prophecy made about Voldemort was discovered that day spelling out his inevitable defeat. The tone behind his father's words was hard to decipher. One sentence seemed to dread it, not wanting to witness the downfall of The Dark Lord or rather the fallout of it. The next, he seemed to enjoy the promise it held for the child he hoped to have one day.

He flipped through several entries quickly and came to the day he was born. June 5, 1980. His father seemed to be beside himself with pride. Something that Draco had never heard a day in his life. Lucius always seemed to be controlled with his emotions, and when he wasn't, it was because Draco had done something to disappointment him or Voldemort. Which seemed to be more often than not in Draco's memory. This journal though, flipping through more pages, seemed to say the opposite.

He was ranting about his son that was the spitting image of himself in looks and how he hoped Draco would act like Narcissa. He could not control the smile that was creeping onto his face as he read his father's words. Words that showed Lucius had a heart for someone other than himself and Narcissa.

"What changed?" Draco asked and the bowtruckle made another noise in response. "Well, something had to have happened to turn him so cold." The bowtruckle pressed its thin fingers on his cheek like he was trying to turn Draco's head back towards the journal. "Fine, I'll keep reading. You're rather pushy for such a small creature." The bowtruckle kept pushing on his face until he began reading again.

July 20, 1980.

Fawley came to the Manor tonight in the cover of a new moon, said his wife had a prophecy that I needed to hear. Cissy could only decipher some of it, but I know it's about Draco. I don't know what traditions are supposed to be eradicated or what allegiances are going to be formed. But I know for certain, now more than ever, Draco is going to be the best of the pureblood families and their only hope at staying pure. He is going to be the anchor to keep our family clean of mudbloods and will defeat whoever rises up to defeat The Dark Lord.

Draco's heart dropped to his stomach making him nauseous. Was that truly what the prophecy Luna had told him was about? He found it hard to believe, but reading his father's words, it made so much sense with the way the world was then and how the world still sees him. Was this the real reason behind him having to take the Dark Mark and Lucius played it as a way to win favor, even though he knew Voldemort would be defeated in the end?

There were so many questions running through his mind, it was hard for him to keep up with them all. He turned to look at the small twig of a creature still sitting on his shoulder with an expression of complete loss. "Am I destined to be damned?" he asked it in a whisper.

Thumbing through dozens of more pages, he saw no more mention of the prophecy. The downfall of The Dark Lord was talked about with an entry that took several pages, explaining how much weight had been lifted from his shoulders once he had been cleared by the Ministry. He had claimed he was forced to do the biddings of the tyrant and it had worked much to Lucius's pleasure. Once that chapter of his life seemed to be closed, Draco found most entries were now about how proud he was of Draco being so clever, picking things up faster than any child he had ever seen. An entry from when he was around two years old talked about how he had accidentally singed the towel that Zorka the house elf wore then tried to convince Narcissa that it had been Theo. Lucius did not believe Draco, obviously, because according to the journal Theo had not been to the Manor in weeks.

April 9, 1983

Cissy gave me wonderful news today; we are going to have another child due in early October. It's going to be a girl. Such a beautiful girl she is going to be, I know it. I can feel it. She is going to be exactly like her mother. Draco was so excited and promised to make sure she was always taken care of.

Draco's breath hitched, he wasn't meant to be an only child. He was meant to have a sister. He quickly flipped the pages until he found the day she was born.

October 4, 1983

Cassiopeia Aster Malfoy was born today and she is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. She has white blonde curls and ocean blue eyes with a smile that anyone would kill for. Draco kept calling her his baby. His sister. She's less than a day old and he already won't let anyone near her. Cissy was radiant holding Cassi, the beautiful flower she has always been.

His sister, Cassiopeia, had been born three years after him. He had been old enough to clearly understand that she was his to protect and his father had clearly been smitten with the way Lucius spoke of her. So much emotion had gone into every entry Draco read that contained his sister, it seemed Lucius was a completely different man than he remembered his father to be. Who was Cassi, as Lucius had called her, and what happened? Where was she now and how does he not remember her at all?

Towards the end of the book, he read:

May 29, 1984

The curse of the Malfoy family only having one child remains it seems. Cassi was taken from us sometime in the night. Cissy is beside herself and Draco doesn't seem to understand, he just keeps asking for his sister and getting angry that we are keeping her from him. I've reached out to Nott, being that he just lost his wife, I hope he is able to help us with Draco.

Draco grabbed his chest, sure that the flames around his heart were engulfing him completely even though his blood had run cold. Numb. Draco had become numb, so much so he didn't feel the light arms of the bowtruckle try to wrap around his neck in an attempt of a hug making a small, sympathetic noise. A splash of a tear on the page alerted him to the tears spilling out and he wiped them away to continue reading.

June 5, 1984

Draco turned 4 today, but it was not full of the typical grander. The party for him went as planned, but the children kept asking for Cassi. Young Theo Nott came to me halfway through, after I heard Draco tell him Cassi wasn't allowed to come out and asked if I would allow him to see Cassi the princess. Thank Merlin for Cissy because all I wanted to do then was kick the boy away from me. He was the only one of the children that called her princess, not even realizing she was named after a Queen. I left the party after that.

Draco noticed his typical script had turned to a shaky and hurried scribble. It looked as if Lucius had wanted to hurry up and get the words out, hoping that once they were on paper, the truth wouldn't hurt anymore.

June 20, 1984

It's been almost a month. Draco keeps going to Cassi's room looking for her. Asking the house elves where she is. He has started to refuse to eat and cries himself to sleep every night. Refuses to leave Cissy's side and throws a tantrum if he does. I'm losing my patience with him. Nott has given me an option, and I've discussed it with several healers, but it must be a last resort.

July 17, 1984

It has come time I follow Nott's suggestion. Draco has only gotten worse. He has lost too much weight and now refuses to walk, insisting that he needs to crawl or be carried. He wakes every night from nightmares. Cissy and I are taking him to St. Mungo's. He is our only child now. We cannot allow for him to wither away at the memory of his sister.

July 18, 1984

The appointment was this morning, and the change has been immediate. The healers took all memory of Cassi from Draco. He will never remember he had a sister. My only son, my only child, so broken from loss that I had to take his memory. I have been too soft on him, especially when Cassi was alive. Things need to change. He needs to be stronger. He needs to be raised to become the leader of the new generation of purebloods, as he is prophesized to be.

That was the last entry of the journal, and as far as Draco could remember from his rummage through the manor, Lucius's only one. More tears fell down his face, the death of his sister was beyond anything he had expected to read this journal. Add in the addition to Draco being obliviated because he couldn't, as a four-year-old, handle the loss, he could begin to understand the reason his father had turned so cold.

Lucius Malfoy had once been a devoted and loving father to not just Draco, but a beautiful baby girl that everyone had adored, based on the entries. A princess. His stomach because to churn and a burn started building in the back of his throat, tossing the journal to the side he went to his hands and knees heaving whatever contents he might have had in his stomach.

He sat back against the root and wiped his mouth, feeling a small tug on his pants. Looking down, he saw the bowtruckle trying to climb his leg. Offering a finger, which the bowtruckle took without hesitation, he placed him back on his shoulder muttering an apology for throwing him off so quickly.

The sky had started to turn a deep purple with clouds moving about quickly. With the cramping of his stomach and the ache in his heart, he knew it was time to leave. Looking to the tree he saw a small hole with two other bowtruckles peeking out at Draco. He gave a sigh and turned to the one on his shoulder. "See you." He placed the creature next to the others in their tree and disapparated home.

AN:

As promised, i posted a second chapter today and hope that it was worth the wait!

Let me know what you think!