Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise nor anything affiliated with it. I also do not own any songs used in this fic, all rights to those songs belong to the artists, go support their work on Youtube, Spotify, or other music platforms.
Draco's POV
I walk into my room after classes today, and pull out my journal. I try to start my entry, but I just don't have the concentration to do that. It's almost 3 days before the muggle studies essay is due, but I still haven't started it yet. I haven't even chosen the song or movie that I'll be writing the essay on. I need to work on it but I can't concentrate. I've had trouble focusing all day because I have a really bad gut feeling. Something is wrong, but I can't figure out what it is.
I pace the room for a while and start practising some simple spells on the objects in my room. Spells like wingardium leviosa and accio. I bring out my guitar and start playing some of the lullabies my mother used to play to me when I was restless and needed to calm down. I play through them endlessly and after awhile, I hear a knock at the door. I open it to see Hermione with a plate of food.
"Hey Draco, I was just wondering if you're okay. I noticed you were pretty distracted today and then you didn't turn up at dinner. I brought you some food in case you were hungry, since you didn't eat earlier. The rest of the group and I were worried. Do you want to talk about it?" I love that Hermione noticed all of that and that she cared enough to bring me food. Though it's Hermione so I really shouldn't be surprised.
"Yeah sure, come on in. It's a bit of a mess in here, but we can sit on the bed." She follows me over to the bed, and then hands me the plate of food.
"So why are you so distracted today? Did something happen, or was it just a 'meh' day?" She asks me after I've taken a couple of bites of the food.
"I honestly don't know, I just have a weird feeling that something's wrong or that something bad has happened, but I haven't gotten or letter or something. It's like I can tell somethings wrong, but I don't know what it is!" I sort of just sit there for a second and stare at the half empty plate. Suddenly I don't feel to hungry but I don't know why.
I'm sick and tired of not knowing. It's always been a problem, like not knowing if I should be Death Eater, not knowing if my friends had survived the battle of Hogwarts and worrying about them, not knowing whether Hermione liked me or not, not knowing if Potter was going to kill me when he pulled me aside to talk to me in Hogsmeade, not knowing if Ron is going to hunt me down soon, not knowing why I feel off today, and not knowing why I don't want to eat. The last one sounds trivial, but it all matters in the moment it happens.
Hermione just looks at me for awhile in a somewhat calculating sort of way. Then she reaches over to squeeze my hand in a reassuring way. She smiles at me and says, "Don't worry you'll figure it out soon enough, or maybe it was just 'one of those days'. Maybe you got food poisoning or something like that. It would explain why you seem to have stopped eating since I know your usual appetite is larger than that." She says, gesturing to the unfinished food on my plate. I give a small smile back in response, but it doesn't quite reach my eyes.
Just then I hear a knock from the window, and see a brown and golden owl with a letter in its beak. I go over and open the window to let the owl in and see that it's raining and really gloomy. Great, the weather matches my mood as well, today really is not my day. I take the letter from the owl's beak, rub his head, and give him a treat, before letting him fly out again into the cold rain.
I walk back to bed and take a look at the letter. First I look at the envelope and determine that it's a formal letter as it has a very formulaic layout, and when I receive messages from friends and family, it's usually just addressed to 'Draco' as supposed to 'Mr. Draco Malfoy'. I turn it over and the seal indicates it's from the Ministry of Magic. The sense of dread that had been building up all day suddenly grew stronger. I knew that this letter, whatever it contained, had to be very bad. With a deep breath I open the letter and start reading it.
Dear Mr. Malfoy,
We regret to inform you that your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, has passed away recently.
I stop reading. I go back read the line again.
We regret to inform you that your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, has passed away recently.
That can't be right. No. Not my mother. Not after everything that's already happened and gone wrong in my life.
I swallow and force myself to keep reading.
For more details on why and how, please contact the Department of Mortuary Affairs with your name, the name of the deceased, and your relation to them. In accordance with Ms. Malfoy's will, you shall receive a key within the next 72 hours to her personal savings account in Gringotts, full access to her collection of art, and a journal which should arrive at the same time as they key.
The full reading of her will shall be held Saturday December 9 2017, from 1:30pm-4:30pm at the Department of Mortuary Affairs office on the 4th floor of the Ministry in London. As you are the only one in line for the property that is Malfoy Manor, with Lucius Malfoy being incarcerated in Azkaban, you will have ownership of it till such a time comes as to when Lucius Malfoy becomes eligible to repossess it. Upon such a time, he shall take command of the property till his death, unless it is repossessed by the bank for financial issues.
As you are still a student in Hogwarts, you have been given leave for the day of the full reading of Ms. Malfoy's will, and a copy of this letter, with certain details removed for privacy, has been sent to your Headmistress McGonagall for her to confer with you how long you will spend in mourning.
Our deepest sympathies,
Helga Barnagie
Head of the Department of Mortuary Affairs
The rest of the letter feels so cold and removed. There is nothing at all comforting about it.
I stare at the letter for a while, and Hermione looks at me with a worried expression. I contemplate hiding the letter from her, but I can't trust myself to speak right now. I hand her the letter and watch her skim it. She looks shocked at first, and then starts to look sad. When she's done, she looks up at me and says, "Do you want to talk about it or…"
"No, do you mind leaving? I just want to be alone for a bit." I say. I hope it doesn't sound rude, but I won't be able to hold back my tears for much longer.
"Yeah sure, just remember, I'll be here for you. I know what you're going through." I realize that she really does, seeing as how her parents died during the war. Once she leaves and shuts the door behind her, I grab my guitar from where I left it earlier and pick it up. I cast muffliato, and try to remember the song I heard about 2 months back, when Hermione shared her music playlist with me. I think it's called Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran.
I took the supermarket flowers from the windowsill
I threw the day old tea from the cup
Packed up the photo album Matthew had made
Memories of a life that's been loved
Took the get well soon cards and stuffed animals
Poured the old ginger beer down the sink
Dad always told me, "don't you cry when you're down"
But mum, there's a tear every time that I blink
I think back to when I was about 5 years old. It was about 20 minutes before a gala in our house. The house elves tried to get my into formal wear, but I wouldn't have it. My mother came up to see what the fuss was, and saw me almost on the verge of tears not wanting to get out of my pyjamas. She sat down with me and let me sit on her lap.
Oh I'm in pieces, it's tearing me up, but I know
A heart that's broke is a heart that's been loved
So I'll sing Hallelujah
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you'd be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go
And when God takes you back we'll say Hallelujah
You're home
She took the clothes and asked me why I didn't want to wear them. I told her that they weren't as comfy as my pyjamas, and I didn't want to wear what my father wanted me to. She had a small smile on her face and asked if she could turn my pyjamas into a suit so it would be comfy, but still fancy. I still wasn't convinced so my mother, the ultimate image of sophistication and elegance, got dressed into a pair of her pyjamas and turned it into an evening gown to demonstrate her idea to me.
I fluffed the pillows, made the beds, stacked the chairs up
Folded your nightgowns neatly in a case
John says he'd drive then put his hand on my cheek
And wiped a tear from the side of my face
I hope that I see the world as you did cause I know
A life with love is a life that's been lived
I liked the idea at that point and she turned my pyjamas into a suit. Together we went down and we were the best dressed that day, but throughout the dance we smiled at each other knowing that the clothes were really pyjamas. It's really small, but it was one of the things she did that made me love her so much.
So I'll sing Hallelujah
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
When I fell down you'd be there holding me up
Spread your wings as you go
And when God takes you back we'll say Hallelujah
You're home
My mother did many small caring things for me throughout my childhood that helped make up for all of the times she had to ignore me, or when my father thought I was useless or unworthy. I think about our last days together, how we took walks in the garden and just marvelled at it's beauty together. I feel sad knowing that I'd never get to talk to her about nature ever again. I also realize that she will never know that I found a girl after all. I know she was always worried that I wouldn't find a woman who loved me or one whom I loved, especially when we got closer and closer to the war. She worried that no one would ever love Death Eater, no matter how charming or sweet I was around her.
Hallelujah
You were an angel in the shape of my mum
You got to see the person that I have become
Spread your wing
And I know that when God took you back he said Hallelujah
You're home
I place my guitar on the floor next to its case and I suddenly feel the pressing weight of complete and utter exhaustion. I just manage to fall onto my bed before I'm engulfed in a fitful sleep filled with memories of my mother.
Author's Note: I'm sorry about updating less frequently, but I will try to make sure I update every other day at least. I have lots of ideas for the rest of fic, so it should just be a matter of banging them out in a readable manner. In case any of you are wondering, I made up the "Department of Mortuary Affairs" though there is a real one in the U.S. army. Thanks for all of your support, please review. I hope you all have a nice week, till next time.