Title: Reflection (Ch. 1 -- RSVP)

Summary: Hogwart's fifth-year Reunion is coming up. Why are Draco and a certain Weasley so reluctant to attend? And what will happen if they both do? Shenanigans, D/G style.

Archive: ff.net

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Comments: pining_away@mail.com

It's amazing what one can suppress over time. I myself have done it for quite some time, but like most things, it eventually had to be dealt with. I suppose that's why I was disturbed when it came to me by owl.

**

The flutter of wings grew louder and the tall man rose, glaring into the sky as though he dared the soft grey bird to land. It did, however, and dropped a roll of parchment wrapped in silver and green ribbon on the table with a light plop. "Damned things, sometimes I wish-" he stopped abruptly as he surveyed the parchment.
Warily, he rose and snatched it up, tearing off the ribbon and hurriedly reading the brief lines.

Dear D. Malfoy,

Hogwarts would be thrilled to have you attend the annual class reunion. Ten years ago next week you graduated. Join us on the 25 at 7:15 PM in the main hall. We will be serving refreshments and catching up.

Sincerely,
Headmaster Dumbledore

P.S. Bring your dancing shoes! Formal robes required.

Draco rolled his eyes. Dancing shoes? Shaking his head, he threw the rolled paper away from his current location and tried to get back to what he'd been working on. Annoyingly, his mind kept returning to the discarded invitation. What would it be like to see Potty and Weasel again? Draco laughed curtly. Exactly like it had been all those years ago- callous and flippant. Laughing at his own pathetically soft musings, Draco picked up a quill and hastily jotted an RSVP.

**

Ginny spied a pink satin slipper hanging off a tiny foot. Raising an eyebrow and trying to keep her laughter in check, she spun around, pretending to frantically look all over. "Where could that child be?" she asked, tapping a finger against her chin.
"Oh, what's this? Surely not little Lissa's foot." Ginny bent down and tugged out the foot, which was followed by a madly giggling and squirming girl of about four.
"No, no, no Aunty Ginny!" she cried, trying to get free.
"Ah, I've got you now!" the 26-year old flipped Percy's daughter onto her back and began tickling her.
"Gin- take a look at this. Just got it by owl." he made a silly face at his niece.
"Uncle Ron, Aunt Ginny found me!" she squealed, running to him and demanding to be picked up.
Ron spluttered as she wiggled in his arms. "You've got your hair in my mouth," he protested, but sat her down in his lap anyway.
Ginny rolled her eyes at the letter, tossing it onto the table before her. "Great, the tenth-year reunion for your graduating class." something in her voice didn't match the chipper words.
Ron shrugged. "I just thought you might want to go." Ginny whirled about to face him; her attempt to look inconspicuous only served to make him suspicious.
"Why would you think that?" Ron set Alyssa down, and she scampered off into the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley.
Ron laughed. "Well, you did spend a lot of time with Hermione, Harry and I." Ginny frowned slightly in remembrance, but grinned up at her brother.
"Are you asking me to go with you?" Ron opened his mouth to revoke the invitation, but Ginny laughed, interrupting.
"I'll go, I'll go. If I hadn't agreed, Hermione or Harry would've been telling me about it later anyway." he nodded.
"You know those two, always inviting the people I least want along." Ginny got up and thumped him on the arm.
"Ow, what'd you do that for?" Ron asked, rubbing the offending limb as he followed Ginny out of the living room.

**

Draco sat on the small stool set in the hall for him, no doubt. He settled down as comfortably as possible, despite the responses from within the cells. Several globs of spittle flew out as he walked past, others leaned menacingly against the bars, whispering all sorts of terrible things, various incantations that would've left him singed, had the cells been completely warded against that sort of thing. His pale face registered nothing, Draco only took care to avoid the spit.
"Can't say it's nice to see you again, Zabini." the young man inside the cell only stared at him with unwavering eyes, dark as pitch from the furthest damp stone wall.
"Oh, is that how it will be? Because last visit you were unerringly informative." his voice registered the smallest bit of sarcasm.
"You can't make me give up anyone else." Blaise's voice was dry and rasping, as though he hadn't used it in ages.
He probably hadn't, save the screams he would emit when dreaming in this horrid prison. Draco inwardly shuddered. If things had been differently, he might've been on the inside of one of these cells, being questioned by Potter this very minute. Draco considered himself lucky. A dull throb in his lower left forearm contradicted him, though.
"What is it like, Draco? To be hated by everything you've ever known, to grow up and betray the only friends you'll ever have?" Draco regarded this with a thoughtful look.
"I'd be happy to tell you, Blaise. Why don't you tell me what it's like to live in this hell-hole with only Dementors and the tormented screams of wizards and muggles alike who'd done nothing to you echoing in your head? What's it like spending your life rotting down here with those who you called your friends, that now can't bring themselves to do much more than mutter and drool?" his words were biting, but the tone was cold and reserved.
Blaise glared at him through the thick iron bars, magicked to keep him inside. "That's what I thought. I don't have time for you today." Draco stood to go.
"Wait." Draco slowly turned back to the cell.
"If- If I tell you." he paused, looking as though he were struggling with something.
Draco waited; knowing promises and cajoling would only cause Blaise to recoil again. "You were once my friend. Don't let me go like this." he knew what Blaise spoke of.
"It will be small. Don't try anything else with it- it won't work. You'll do it quickly and it will disappear." Draco's voice was quiet.
"The Dark Lord still has Pettigrew, but he's got others, too. They've come to him because they're scared- everyday he grows stronger. He's looking into draining the energy from wizards and muggles with some kind of amulet. I've been gone for too long, I don't know if they found it or where they could." Blaise ground his teeth together, self-loathing evident.
"This is the coward's way out." he muttered, tightening his fists so that the nails drew blood.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Blaise didn't answer, but he looked up.
"I think I'd have done the same thing." this small bit of knowledge seemed to comfort him just a bit.
Draco slid a tiny silver knife under the bars. He straitened and began to walk out. "Draco." he turned again, eyes flashing with what might've been pain, regret, or the passing of childhood memories.
"Thank you." Draco didn't know what to say, so he left.

**

Draco's POV

I knew going back to Azkaban to see Blaise again was going to be difficult. I hate setting foot inside those walls. I don't know if it's more because of Lucius or because of the knowledge that if things had gone differently, I'd be in there myself.
I received a report this morning that Zabini was dead. Apparently, they've recorded his death as natural and in his sleep. I will try to remember him as he was at school and not as he was in his last days at Azkaban.
About the reunion- I've sent an owl saying that I will attend, but I've been thinking about it a lot and regretting that decision. No one knows the real story about my abandonment of the Death Eaters. Well, no one but Dumbledore and Snape. I'm wondering what I should say. Not that it matters. They think I'm some slimy git like Lucius, only changing sides for my own good. I hate being compared to him. He's dead I'm not yet free of him.

Draco looked up from his journal as the butler knocked. "Yes, Houston?" the door opened, revealing a transparent ghost.
"Your mother to see you, Sir." Draco stood, wishing he'd chosen more formal robes.
"Send her up, please." a moment later, Houston returned with a tall, strikingly blonde woman.
"Hello, Draco. How are you this afternoon?" Draco stepped out from his desk and took his mother's hand.
"Well enough. Thank you, Houston." he dismissed the butler before turning his eyes back on his mother.
"What brings you here, Mother?" he led her to a sofa, taking a nearby chair.
"I heard about Blaise, Draco. It's all over the papers." Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Really? I haven't read them yet. What's going on with him now?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed.
"I wish I knew what you were thinking, Draco. First you disown your father, and then you besmirch the Dark Lord and give up your position as a Death Eater-" Draco restrained the urge to sigh.
"Mother, if you're going to start all this again-" she shook her head.
"Very well, you can shut me out of your life. I only want to remind you that the Dark Lord never forgets a wrong, Draco. And he believes you've wronged him. What is it you're doing now that would make him feel that way?" she eyed him suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing, except maybe breathing." Narcissa sighed.
"It's always the same with you, isn't it?"
"Only when it's always the same with you. Can't we ever discuss anything besides Voldemort?" the look on his mother's face was sadly conveying that there was nothing else to talk about.
"I think you should go, Mother. Thank you for dropping by." Narcissa stood, looking haughty.
"I'd never thought your father was right about you, Draco, but-"
"Goodbye, Mother. Houston?" the butler appeared through a wall.
"See Mother out." the butler escorted her from the room, leaving Draco alone.

**

End Chapter One