A Common Bond
Disclaimer: not mine. Really. All I own is the Chamber of Secrets soundtrack on CD. And the LOTR soundtracks. And the PotC one. And assorted other things. So really, don't sue.
A/N: this chapter's a bit longer than the previous two – I needed to find an appropriate place to stop!!
Thanks to: lucidity, Lord Elrond of Hogwarts, SnapeAngst
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Chapter 3: Enter Andromeda
"What will you do for the rest of the day?" inquired Neville, eventually breaking the silence.
Draco shrugged. "No idea. Mother's been…sedated," (here he flinched), "so I might go – oh. Oh no. I can't…"
"You can't what?" asked Neville carefully.
Draco swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I – I can't go home," he whispered. "There's nobody there."
Neville awkwardly reached out to comfort him, but the Slytherin drew back. If anyone touched him now, he'd fall apart, be unable to stop the tears from spilling over and pouring down his cheeks. Once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. Neville seemed to understand, and withdrew his arm. Draco gave him a small smile of thanks.
"How did you do on your OWLs?" asked Neville, searching for a topic they could discuss safely.
"O in Potions, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy and Charms. E in Transfiguration, Ancient Runes and History of Magic. I got an A in Care of Magical Creatures, but that was probably only just scraped."
"Wow! That's really good!" Neville exclaimed, impressed.
"How about you?"
"O in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. E in Charms, Muggle Studies, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. A in History of Magic and Potions, and P in Divination – which I'm really not bothered about at all. I wasn't going to take it for NEWTs, anyway."
"Why did you even take Divination?" asked Draco.
Neville shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "Easy option – that was my reasoning at the end of second year when we had to choose."
"Madness, I'd say," Draco muttered.
"Quite possibly."
Silence fell once more. Neville took Draco's doughnut, which the other boy had pushed towards him, and thoughtfully began munching it. Neither paid any attention to the tall, dark-haired witch standing beside them until she cleared her throat. Loudly.
Neville dropped the doughnut. Draco spilled his tea again. "Aunt – Aunt Andromeda," he stammered.
"I was told you were up here by the ward staff. Can I join you?" Without waiting for an answer, Andromeda Tonks (née Black) took a chair from a nearby table and sat down on it. "How are you, Draco?"
Draco glared at her. "How do you think I feel?!" he snapped. "My father's in Azkaban, my mother's worse than dead, and I have nowhere to live!"
"Yes you do," replied Andromeda calmly. "You'll be staying with me. I offered. I couldn't have the relevant Ministry officials dumping you with any old wizarding family, now, could I? You're my nephew. We look after our own in our family."
"Someone must have neglected to tell Bellatrix that," Draco said angrily.
Andromeda's face twisted into a scornful expression. "She was always off her rocker, if you ask me. And I'm her sister, so I should know. She and your mother got on reasonably well, although Bellatrix had a rather unpleasant habit of smuggling wasps and other unpleasant insects into 'Cissa's room when she was small."
Draco bit his lip at the mention of his mother. "No wonder she panics – panicked – whenever a wasp came into a room she was in."
"Oh, 'Cissa got her own back when she was older – moths. Bellatrix despises them. It was generally advisable to avoid their rooms altogether." Andromeda rolled her eyes at the memories. "Now, young Draco. We need to get your things and take them to my house, if you're going to be living with me." She stood up and put the chair back where it had come from.
Draco also rose, and gave Neville an awkward half-smile. "Look, Longbottom…Thanks. For – for the tea. And everything."
Neville shrugged uncomfortably. "'S OK. I won't say anything to anyone. Write to me if you want. I'm always here if you want to talk to anyone about…you know."
Draco nodded briefly. "Thanks. See you." He turned and followed his aunt as she left the tearoom, mind whirling with all that had happened that day.
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It was about eight o'clock that evening by the time all of Draco's necessary (and wanted) items had been moved to his aunt's house in Bedfordshire. They used the Floo network, as Draco was too young to Apparate. His room was reasonably sized, though somewhat smaller than his one at the manor, and it was situated at the back of the detached house. Because his Uncle Ted was Muggle-born, there were a lot of Muggle contraptions in the house, all of which were completely alien to the pureblood teenager. As such, he was startled when the telephone rang within minutes of his arrival ("We've already got double glazing!" Andromeda snapped before slamming the receiver back down).
Draco was exhausted, and when he nearly fell asleep at the kitchen table in the middle of the meal (later than they usually ate, Andromeda informed him), he was firmly ordered up to bed by his aunt. He was only too happy to obey. He was barely able to undress and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
But his sleep was far from peaceful. Images of his mother, distressed and screaming, helpless at the hands of her eldest sister, in unbearable pain, tormented him. Bellatrix laughing cruelly, insanely, maniacally, unrelenting with her curses. Then she turned her wand on Draco and hit him as well. He couldn't keep back the screams of agony and desperate pleading with her to stop as she tortured him, his mother crying, barely able to move, calling his name over and over and over again…
"Draco. Draco!"
Abruptly he woke, panicked and terrified, heart racing, blood pounding in his ears, gasping for breath.
"Child, whatever's wrong?" asked Andromeda gently, her eyes and face revealing her worry. She was crouched beside the bed, having clearly just woken herself.
Draco drew back, curling up into a small ball in the far corner of the bed against the wall, still shaking violently from the nightmare.
"Draco? Did you have a bad dream? It's okay to admit it. You've had a difficult day and a nasty shock."
Draco raised his head, nodding briefly.
"Do you want to tell me about it? It might help."
Draco hesitated, then slowly unfolded himself. "It – it was…It was her," he whispered, trying to force back the tears as the horrific memories of the dream flashed through his mind. "She – she was using Cruciatus…First Mother, then – then me…" The urge to cry was overwhelming now, and he could no longer hold back the tears despite his best efforts.
Andromeda gently put her arms around him and drew him onto her lap, ignoring the fact that he was sixteen, instead holding him, rocking, soothing, comforting him as though he were a small child. Surprisingly, he let her do so.
Eventually he cried himself to sleep and Andromeda eased him back under the covers. She muttered a spell as she pointed her wand at a small object on the bedside table, which began glowing softly. She slipped out, leaving the door slightly ajar in case Draco should wake up again.
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He didn't. He slept through the rest of the night, and Andromeda decided against waking him in the morning. "Let him rest," she told Ted, who promptly went back to the Prophet, the front page of which bore the headline: Ireland: European Quidditch Champions!
A pop sounded behind Andromeda, immediately followed by a crash and then someone swearing. Andromeda, without turning round, sighed resignedly. "Do mind that vase, Nymphadora! I've lost count of how many times I've had to repair it. And besides, your cousin's still fast asleep upstairs."
"Sorry Mum," Nymphadora (who generally went by her surname only) mumbled apologetically.
"What do you want? If it's butter, I'm sorry, but you borrowed the last of it on Tuesday and I haven't been shopping yet."
"Actually, I dropped by to see how Draco was."
"Oh." Andromeda's expression changed, softening and saddening. "He's had an extremely nasty shock. It'll take some adjusting to – especially as the poor child's been uprooted from his home and been dragged halfway across the country to live with a relative he's only seen a handful of times, and hasn't seen since he was ten. He seems to have found an ally in the Longbottom kid; they were talking at the hospital yesterday when I found him."
Tonks tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrow. "Has he? That's interesting," she mused. "Probably a good thing – for both of them."
"Indeed. Now go, before you're late for work and break anything else in this house."
Tonks rolled her eyes and tossed her hair (shoulder-length and electric blue in colour today) over her shoulders. "I get the message. I'm going, I'm going." And she Disapparated.
A few minutes later, Draco stumbled into the kitchen. "Morning, Aunt Andromeda," he said quietly. "Uncle Edward."
"You're up!" cried Ted. "Good morning to you too, young man. Do call me Ted, though – only your father calls me Edward. It's far too stiff and formal for me."
"Sorry, Uncle Ted."
"Do sit down, Draco," cut in Andromeda. "Toast? Cereal? Something cooked?"
"Just toast, please. I'm not very hungry," Draco replied quietly, embarrassed about the previous night. Malfoys did not, after all, cry. Certainly not like he had done. He sat down in an empty chair, head bowed, lost in his unhappy thoughts while his aunt made his toast. He couldn't get the images of the previous night's dream out of his head. He jumped when the toast was put in front of him.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he answered dully. "It's just…Mother. Yesterday. And – and last night…"
"Perfectly understandable. Now, when are we going to Diagon Alley to get your books?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Fine. What do you need?"
"Advanced Guide to Transfiguration, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six, Arithmancy for NEWT Level, Ancient Runes for the NEWT Student – and I need a new Dictionary of Arithmancy. Blaise lost hers in fourth year so she's been using mine because she's too lazy to get her own. Mine fell apart last week."
"Ah. Not a good thing. Now, what do you want to do today?"
Draco shrugged. "Dunno. Don't care."
"Then I'll show you around the area. How does that sound?"
"Fine." Draco picked up the now-buttered toast and nibbled a corner of it before putting it back on the plate. "I'm sorry. I'm not very hungry."
"Eat one slice at least. I'm not having you fainting on me just because you've got an empty stomach." Andromeda turned to her husband. "Well, Edward? Are you ever going to work?"
"They don't want me in until eleven," replied Ted, taking his third slice of hot toast from the rack, which was charmed to keep the toast hot. "Do you want the paper, Draco? There's about fifteen pages on the European Quidditch Championships and not much else."
Draco took the paper from him, but didn't pay it much attention. He was still deep in his unhappy thoughts, and hadn't really been following the Championships – Blaise's parents didn't really care about Quidditch, and they had nothing but scorn for the Daily Prophet. The Zabinis were well-known for being fence-sitters in just about everything, and had a fairly even distribution of all four Hogwarts houses in their family.
Eventually Draco finished his toast and stood up. "How does your shower work?" he asked.
"Come with me," instructed Andromeda. "It's a bit complicated."
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~TBC~