Chapter 1
Lightning flashed across the black sky with a thunderous roar as frigid water fell down his back. Penetrating the last ward, he was finally able to creak open the door leading into the obscured foyer of Malfoy Manor. Soggy footsteps carried him down the hallway until finding himself in front of a grand piano. The thick fabric covering the elegant instrument fell to the ground in a cloud of dust while he took a seat on the bench – the ivory and black keys just as inviting as the first time he had the pleasure of performing a melody for his mother. Sorrowfully he pressed the aged teeth; b, c, d. Stopping to catch his breath, the sound was eerie and beautiful while ricocheting off the walls; b, c, d, c, b, b, c. He stopped, not able to continue the song without allowing grief to overtake him. A monstrous sound resided when his hands slammed the keyboard before he stood, refusing to let the tears building up in his eyes fall.
Making his way through the galleries to the library, spine-chilling silence filled the air. The portraits moved only their eyes to watch his path. A trail of droplets, like breadcrumbs, followed him in case he needed to find his way out if the darkness consumed him, despite the welcoming flames flickering on the walls.
His once favorite place in the old building is what now haunts his nightmares. Steel-blue eyes slid over to the blood-stained carpet below the black French chaise lounge as he took a ragged breath and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. Nothing had been moved, cleaned, or disturbed in any way in three years; yet, for him, everything was deranged and upturned. Picking up a book, he assumed she had been reading it when it happened, he placed it on the side table before continuing to roam the manor.
Opening the doors for the second-floor balcony, he saw sunlight trying to sneak through the darkened clouds as the rain continued painting the overgrown garden in an ominous ambiance. The peacocks have long since been gone and none of his mother's favorite Wiltshire Ripples could be seen blooming, solidifying her absence as nothing else did. Falling to his knees, his eyes burned as the tears finally spilled.
It had taken a great deal of convincing himself to come back, hoping his heart would not break again when walking the once familiar halls, but as he sat on his heels, head in his hands, the idea of being strong enough to do what was required seemed outlandish. Focusing on the large number of tasks that needed to be completed was the only thing that allowed him the strength to stand after a time.
Heavy mahogany doors pushed open, revealing the matching desk littered with papers, books, quills, and a crystal decanter housing his father's preferred scotch. Lighting a fire in the cold hearth, he began to search the drawers. Shuffling through the correspondents between his Father and his business associates, his once immaculate script turned into the untidy scribble of a child exposing when the anxiety and fear took hold. Eventually, under a false bottom of a drawer, Draco was able to find the document he needed and began to read.
Ownership of the Manor had been his since the night his mother was found. His father being incarcerated; he was left without the authority to own any of the remaining assets that belonged to the Malfoy name. No, that wasn't the confirmation he needed with this record. The authorization to rid himself of everything else without repercussion was his focus and a small amount of weight lifted when it was given, steadying his resolve to move forward. A withered piece of parchment was sticking out from under a pile of old text catching his attention. Gently releasing it, his breath caught in his throat; it was the contract.
Years had passed since the last time he thought about the obligation, much less had the opportunity to read it over. Skimming the passages, he remembered the outcome his family expected of him, expanding his distaste for outdated traditions. Rereading it several times, desperately searching for a loophole he would be able to exploit and not finding one, he deemed it trivial for the time, and that it could wait until he found out exactly what happened to his mother and who was responsible.
"Conservatam agnovimus." He muttered the charm to prevent the paper from aging more.
The sky had evolved from having dreary clouds plagued it during the early morning hours to a bright blue, obscured only by large white cumuli allowing the sunlight to accentuate the layers of dust over the cloth-covered furniture throughout the rooms. He had made it to the owner's suite and was standing at the boudoir entrance preparing himself before having to raid his mother's jewelry. This was never something he thought he would have to do alone. The process of inheriting the Malfoy Ring was anticipated to be a time full of love and excitement; instead, he could feel the redness in his eyes – the hole in his heart seemed to get larger with every heirloom he sorted. A petite white gold band supported a dark pear-shaped emerald with a crown of seven individually set diamonds was uncovered in the back of his mother's coffer. Pulsating heat came off it as he picked it up mirroring the warmth that began to spread through his hand originating from the ring on his finger. Pocketing the unique treasure, his focus rounded on his father's pocket watch and his mother's favorite necklace.
His goal was to minimize what was kept, but he had not anticipated separating with gaudy furniture and antique trinkets would pull at the small threads holding him together. He needed to gather the essentials and leave the rest, handing over the library and artifacts to the Ministry before getting rid of the forsaken dwelling he spent the majority of his life in. Smiles, laughter, and love used to fill the corridors he was walking through, but now, a shade of grey misted over the memories as he collected mementos of that time.
Finishing his initial comb of the manor, he stepped out into the chilling evening air and apparated to an alcove off the street outside of The Leaky Cauldron. Stepping into the bustle of the dinner time rush, he made his way to a stool and waited for the barman to notice him. After giving his order, he turned to study the atmosphere. Candles and torches provided a welcoming feel as light cascaded down the stone walls and large fireplace on a far wall roared, fighting off any chill that threatened to make its way to customers. Lively patrons filled every table and booth while enjoying the evening with friends or family, leaving Draco to acknowledge he was more alone there than he had been the entirety of the day. The sound of a rocks glass on the bar behind him drew his attention away from a young couple laughing and holding hands.
Heaving a sigh, he muttered his thanks and twirled the tawny liquid in small circles before taking a nip. The alcohol tasted of roasted oak before it burned down his throat. Thoughts swarmed his mind as he was posted at the bar, today he was barely able to scrape at the layers of smut that had built up, and the knowledge he would have to spend the next week scrutinizing the manor made him wish for a stronger drink than the bourbon he was sipping.
Resting his head on his fist, and elbows on the bar top, he was entranced watching the liquid as he rotated his wrist. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone new take up residence on the stool next to him but did not turn to see who it might have been.
"Long time." A deep mischievous voice reached his ears, "Should I be more offended you disappeared without a trace, or that three years later you reappear without a word?"
"Wasn't particularly wanting company." Taking another swallow of bourbon, he placed the glass down turning to look at as his old friend. "There's no offense to be taken, Blaise."
Dark brown, almost black eyes, looked back into Draco's with reservation, "So you're back then?"
"Yeah, mate. I'm back."
A large hand cupped his shoulder as Blaise let out a hearty laugh showing off his bright white teeth. The enthusiasm at hearing Draco was staying in the area was contagious, breaking him out of his woeful mood as a small laugh escaped his lips. Once a drink was brought for the newcomer, the two of them spent the evening and well into the night catching up on what events happened over the last few years while Draco was gone.
After reminiscing the better times of their Hogwarts years, the conversation of careers came up and the tension in Draco's shoulders visibly returned and his companion took notice. Fixing him with an intense look, he waited until Draco explained the reason behind the change and when Draco didn't elaborate, Blaise allowed the silence to stretch on as the crowd slowly dwindled.
Deciding he needed to tell at least one person what he plans to do, he opened his mouth but was instantly blinded by a flash of a camera. Coughing at the purple smoke surrounding his face, he tried to clear it with his hand while squinting. Blaise could be seen doing the same as the perpetrator was bouncing on the balls of his feet holding the camera as a quick quote quill was floating next to him. Draco didn't recognize the mousy haired young man in front of him, but he instantly loathed him being so close.
"Draco Malfoy, you've been unable to be located for the last three years, where have you been? What made you come out of hiding? Blaise Zabini, did you know where he was? Where you included in the process of hiding him?" The small figure of energy was rattling off questions without allowing them a chance to answer.
Finding a small break, Draco forced a question of his own, "Who the bloody hell are you?" his voice was a growl as he looked down his nose, curling his lip as if smelling burnt flesh.
"Dennis Creevey, Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly!" a dainty hand was extended and when it was accepted with nothing but a glare, he retreated it. "Started working there just last year, but your absence has been a topic of many conversations within the wizarding world."
The bright blue feather quill was racing across the small notepad pausing only to turn the page. The reporter's blue eyes were wide with anticipation for an answer or quote he can use but Draco had no patience for this. Instead, he stood to leave throwing some galleons down by his empty glass. Blaise could be heard muttering something to the excited man before he was following Draco up to his room on the third floor of the inn.
"Don't mind it. Blokes always snooping around for the next big story, thinks he's the best thing since Rita Seeker."
"You and I remember that insect quite differently." Draco spat reaching his door.
"You were about to tell me something…"
Nodding, he stepped into the room and held the door open for Blaise to enter before snapping the door shut, locking it, and warding against pesky reporters who might be listening in. "My mother was killed." His tone was flat, but the words were rushed, hiding how much it pained him to say them out loud.
"I thought they found it as suicide?" confusion clear as his head tilted slightly.
"You knew my mother well, better than anyone outside of our family. Does suicide sound like something she would do?" Draco asked knowing the answer. His mother was a prideful woman but also extremely strong-willed. Regardless of how lonely or upset she was, taking her life was never an option; especially if Draco was still alive and well.
"You know, now that I think about it, no." his dark skin paled quickly as clarity set in.
"I have a copy of the suicide note she supposedly left. It's her handwriting, but something doesn't feel right with it."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"I need to get in at the Ministry MLED before I can do anything."
"I can try to sniff out if there's any word about your application. People tend to become loose lipped around me. Makes me good at my job."
"That would be helpful." Draco sat down on the stiff chair and threw a leg over the side.
"You look like shite, mate. Have you been sleeping? Eating?" Blaise sat in the opposite chair once the fire was lit. His elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward studying Draco and waiting for a response.
"Not much." He admitted rubbing his face before pulling his hands through his hair with an exhausted sigh. "I went to the manor this morning."
"First time since…"
"Yeah."
The silence stretched between them. Draco draped across the chair and Blaise leaning back with his fingers interlaced and resting on his chest, both lost in their thoughts. Draco knew that if anyone was going to understand how difficult going back into that house was, it would be Blaise. "I still have more…" He didn't ask, he couldn't ask. He wanted to, but the words wouldn't form.
"I will meet you there tomorrow. midmorning." Draco gave a curt nod as Blaise stood and made his way to the door pausing only when his hand was on the knob. "People are here for you; it is not something you have to do alone."
Draco was left alone in the outdated room with his thoughts. He knew Blaise was right but contemplating who he wanted near the manor was difficult because of the events that transpired there since his sixth year at Hogwarts. Walking over to his trunk, he kicked it open and stripped off his soiled shirt and pants. The dark mark had faded to a soft grey taking up residence on his left forearm and still seemed to burn at times. Over the years, he had become efficient at concealment charms to keep others from seeing the dreadful marking, but it had become tedious to have to reapply it every couple of hours, so he took to wearing long sleeves instead.
Exhaustion was taking hold quickly as he made his way to the old four-poster that took up a majority of the room. The bed had lumps and the pillows smelled a mixture of contradicting frequents as his head found them. Staring up at the ceiling going over everything else he needed to do, he drifted into a restless sleep.
.
AN:
Hello Loves!
To start off with, Welcome! I'm so glad you've decided to give my story a look. It is my VERY FIRST story that I am writing and posting for the view of others, so I'm extremely excited and extremely nervous. It dives into a genre that I have always found fascinating and I do hope to bring it justice!
That being said, I absolutely CHERISH feedback. Critisism of all kinds are greatly welcomed as I use it all to better my writing and hopefully better your reading experience. So, any words of encouragement, motivation, correction, love or hatred, send them my way. Everything can be used as a learning experience. Especially since I have no beta to fix my spelling or grammatical mistakes.
One last thing, for now, I'm going to be introducing some original characters in addition to several known and loved characters created by JK Rowling, of which I do not own, and I post pictures of my inspirations for these original characters on Instagram. So hope on and look me up: . Items that I describe as well as places will also be included in my posts on there. And most importantly, when I post new chapters! Because that's what we all really what to know.
Speaking of new chapters (and I swear this is the last thing) I plan to post a new one every Friday as of right now. However, there is a great possibility I might get really excited about a chapter and post one early. So keep an eye out!