A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but comic con is 6 odd weeks away and I'm suddenly SO stressed!
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Eleven
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The wand pressing into his throat was making him panic a little but he refused to let it show on his face.
Around him, Sirius and Granger were snapping in all manner of octaves for Weasley to drop his damned wand and let him go. Draco did his best to keep his cool demeanour in tact as, finally, Sirius stepped up to them and took Weasley's wrist in a death grip and forced it away. Whatever the redhead man was feeling, it was now being shared equally between Sirius and Draco.
"I will not have you attacking my family in my house, do you understand me, Ronald?" Sirius demanded, a tinge of manic aggression tinting his words. It was rare he shouted, so very rare, for he'd never had any need to, save for arguing with his family way back when.
Draco dared to look up at the ginger. Despite the ugly shade of red staining his face and clashing with his hair, he lowered his wand up, nostrils flaring the entire time. It was only then that Draco realised Sirius didn't have Potter cradled against him.
"Fuck, Sirius where's Potter?" he snapped, forcing himself off the wall. Damn, if the man had lost Potter, he was never going to live it down.
"It's okay I have him," Granger's voice dispelled his heated panic.
Draco straightened and regarded her coolly, "I see."
The tense atmosphere vibrated around them. Sirius took Potter away from Granger and murmured to him, their heads bent together. From his angle, Draco could just about see the tears in Potter's green eyes and the way his mouth twisted downward. He felt a wave of negative emotions rush through him, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. It hadn't been a gratifying day by any means.
Granger and Weasley regarded him, their expressions so easy to read, it was like an open wound.
"I'm going to put Harry to bed," Sirius stated matter-of-factly. "If I hear anything other than talking, I will alter the wards so that neither of you can come back, do I make myself clear?"
"Sirius are you honestly defending this Death Eater?" Weasley sneered.
Sirius turned his sharp, blue eyes onto the redheaded teen. Weasley may have been tall for his age, but he had nothing on Sirius. The man may have only been an inch or two taller, but his immaculate attire and personality resonated throughout. "I am defending no one, Ron. Draco is my cousin, he was acquitted on probation and cannot do magic. Whatever he may or may not have done to you, it's in the past and we are moving-on as of now. If you cannot deal with it, I'm sure Kreacher will be happy to escort you back to the Burrow."
His tone was final and with that, he carried Potter out of the room.
As the door shut behind him, Weasley turned to Draco with an ugly sneer, "Just because you have Sirius on your side, ferret, doesn't mean that I'm about to trust you after the shit you've pulled!"
"Yes, I'd gathered that, Weaselbee," Draco retorted coolly.
Granger sighed and rolled her eyes behind them. She'd stowed her wand away and hugged her arms around her. She looked more dishevelled than when she'd been in sixth year potions; her curly hair was in disarray and unravelling from a scruffy braid, her clothes hung off her a little too much and there were dark bags under her eyes. Draco knew he didn't look that much better. Despite being at Sirius' dinner table three times a day, he'd barely put on any weight since the trials.
He shook the thoughts aside before he actually felt empathetic towards Granger.
"This is all just a shock to us," Granger stated as she wandered over absently towards one of the armchairs. As she sank onto the edge of it, she raked a hand through her hair. "We were hardly expecting to come back to find Harry as a child."
Draco cocked an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with your bed-mate jabbing his wand at me?" he sneered.
Granger flushed and Weasley turned an even uglier shade of red, his grip on his wand tightening.
"We should have been told," she sounded exhausted, like she didn't have much fight left in her.
"So talk to Sirius, not me."
"What exactly do you know of the matter?"
"I have nothing to say," Draco stated. He folded his arms over his chest, and tried to focus on his breathing.
He didn't see how Granger was smeared with dirt and running from Nagini.
He wasn't seeing Weasley cling to her in what could have been their final moments.
He didn't feel sick that he almost got them all killed …
"Draco?" Granger's voice was distorted. Why was she wavering? He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth, but that just made him want to vomit. "Draco are you okay?"
"Fine," he snapped, trying to take deep breaths. "I'll be right back."
He walked briskly out of the lounge as quickly as he could before hurrying up the stairs to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he ran the taps until the water was cold and splashed his face and neck. He shivered and coughed before cupping water in his hands and gulping it down.
Just breathe …
The war is over …
Just breathe …
A knock came at the door.
"Draco? Are you alright?" came Sirius' voice. Potter must have gotten settled, then.
"Fine," he choked back. "I'll be down in a bit."
There was a pause before Sirius made his way along the landing and descended the stairs. Straining his ears, Draco could hear the murmuring of their voices. He needed to get a grip on himself. He needed to get the next hour or two whilst Sirius filled in the other members of the golden trio about what had happened to Saint Potter, and then he could go to bed and try to forget this nightmare of a day.
.
.
The fire in the kitchen crackled away as Sirius cast a non-verbal spell for the iced tea to be served to everyone at the table. Granger cupped her hands around the base, stroking the condensation with her fingers absent-mindedly. Not once did she take a sip. Weasley, on the other hand, seemed to drink his beverage in the most passive-aggressive manner possible. His anger was still simmering a mere breadth beneath the surface. Draco couldn't help but assume that he could very well blink in an offensive manner, and the redhead would lose his collective shit.
As he sat down at the table, a glass swerved across the woodwork in front of him. Glancing up at Sirius, he felt his insides twist as the older man winked at him and gave an imperceptible nod for him to drink. He took a small, obligated sip.
Drawing in a deep breath, Granger broke the silence. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have rushed home and tried to talk him out of it."
Sirius regarded her for a moment, his face revealing none of his inner thoughts. "Harry had a lot on his mind to deal with, Hermione. You mustn't feel offended that he didn't include either of you in this decision. This was something he wanted to do for himself."
"I just … why, Sirius?" she turned large brown eyes to the older man. "I don't understand why he thought this was necessary."
"He wasn't able to deal with the things he did, the things he saw. Truthfully, he may have played to a weakness with my own personality," Sirius admitted, stroking his forefinger around the rim of his glass. "He didn't know what to do with the new life he was able to live. He was fully willing to do what needed to be done. He made his peace with that. He was at a loose end."
"That doesn't mean the answer to that was to bloody go and de-age himself," Weasley groused.
"Perhaps not," Sirius agreed. "However, on the same note, this was the one thing he's asked of anyone in a very long time. If it doesn't aid him in any way, then we can just hold our hands up as it being a failed experiment. For now, I want to be able to give Harry a better childhood than what he had originally. Maybe that can help ease some of the earlier trauma he suffered."
"You can't undo certain things, Sirius," Granger sighed wistfully.
"I'm willing to try," the older man retorted. "As it stands, Harry doesn't remember any of you, so you're welcome to stop by if and when you can. Just let me know beforehand. Things will be trickier once he ages to eleven again, but we have a little while before that becomes an issue."
Granger looked as though she wanted to lecture Sirius on the blasé attitude, but closed her mouth at the last second.
"Plus, I don't get why we weren't told about Harry's situation, but this blonde git gets to live in the same house as well as knowing about it!"
"Believe me, I've hardly enjoyed watching Potter burp carrots and peas on himself every other night," Draco remarked drily.
Granger frowned at him.
"Draco is here because he has no other family to take care of him whilst he's on probation," Sirius stated.
"I guess that what happens when all your family are Death Eaters."
"Ron!"
"That's enough!" Sirius barked, slamming his fist on the table. They all jumped. "Now you listen to me; I am sick to my back teeth of this petty fighting and all the other pureblood whining bullshit! As long as you are under my roof and in my presence, I will not tolerate an ounce of it. Do you hear me? That goes for all of you.
Furthermore, if anyone has an issue with Draco being here, kindly find a reason for him to leave. He is my family, my blood, and he stays. Harry did not fight and die for us, to have this bullshit carry on when he's sleeping just two floors above us! Do not cheapen his sacrifice because you don't like what Draco did to you in school. Bullying does nothing but encourage the crap that got us into this mess in the first place."
Draco glanced at Granger and Weasley. He suppressed a proud smirk at the shameful tint in their cheeks.
Clearing his throat, Sirius straightened his jacket and hair before taking a drink of his iced tea. "Now, are we going to discuss the future terms and conditions of your visiting Harry?"
"We need a contract to see our best friend?" Weasley gaped incredulously.
"If he's your best friend where have you been all summer when he needed you?" Draco couldn't resist snapping back. Merlin's balls, he really did know how to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. He knew perfectly well where they'd been, thanks to Andromeda. Not that they had any reason to believe he would know this.
Before Weasley could open his mouth, Granger replied, "We were in Australia with my parents. There were … complications due to the war. We were helping them make sense of it all. They'll be coming back to the UK by Christmas."
'Interesting,' Draco thought. 'Granger's more devious than I gave her credit for.'
Sirius flicked his wand and summoned a roll of parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill. "Right, let's try and organise this," he muttered to himself, readjusting his position in the chair. "You two will be attending Hogwarts in September, correct?"
"Yes," the Gryffindor's replied in unison.
"So you would have weekends free to do as you please?"
"Depending on what we're studying at the time and any Quidditch practice, if that's even a factor for eighth years, then yes, generally," Granger said.
Sirius nodded and scribbled some notes. "And obviously you'll have to take note of when there's a full moon as you won't be allowed around at that time."
"Surely we could be more help to you then," Granger interjected. "If you wanted to keep Remus company during the full moon, Ron and I could help Draco look after Harry and Teddy."
"Excuse me, I am not Potter's care-giver," Draco ground out. "I just happen to be in the same house."
Sirius did his best to conceal a smile behind his moustache. "Perhaps we should stick with visiting every now and then when you can manage it?" he stated carefully. "We can revisit this after Christmas when Harry has gotten more used to you two, however he's still very wary of strangers. We can't overwhelm him."
Granger frowned a little but didn't argue. What Sirius said was true, it was a wonder Potter didn't cry whenever Draco entered the room. Remembering those vivid green eyes made Draco feel tense and edgy. He took another, long sip of his drink.
"Fine, that's fine," Granger finally said, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I'm too tired to argue anymore. This summer has been nothing but nerves, tension and sleepless nights. I almost don't even want to go back to Hogwarts and deal with more stress …" her voice wavered a little.
Weasley wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and squeezed. He wasn't looking too well-off either, now that the angry redness and faded.
Sirius reached out and cupped his hand over Granger's. She looked up at him, blinking tears away. "Things will get easier from here on out, Hermione. You just need to have patience."
"How can I when one of my best friends is a toddler?" she sniffed.
Sirius smiled affectionately. "We all deal with things in our own way. Harry de-aged himself and you guys went on your own little mission halfway across the world. You need time to process everything." He paused for a moment before asking, "Are you two okay for a place to stay, or do you want to sleep in one of the spare rooms?"
Draco's heart rate spiked. No, no, no, no! They couldn't stay! He'd be beyond tense until they left the following day. He couldn't deal with the heat, the nightmares and insomnia!
"Oh no that's alright," Granger waved the offer away. "Molly's expecting us back at the Burrow, we just said we were popping by here first." She paused for a moment before her eyes widened. "Molly knows too, doesn't she?"
Sirius nodded.
"Merlin's fucking bollocks!" Weasley snapped, kicking at the table leg as he stood up. "I'm going to have serious words with her when we get in!"
"Oh, Ron, just leave it be! We know now, let's just leave it alone."
"No, she could have warned us what we were in for!"
"We made her swear not to, along with Andromeda and Arthur. It's too risky for Harry's protection," Sirius stated. "You two must adhere to the agreement also."
"Of course," Granger said reflexively. "We're not idiots, we kept Harry's secrets all through the build-up to the war, we're not about to be careless now."
It would have been a weak argument from anyone else, but even Draco had to admit that the whole reason Rita Skeeter had to make up crap about Potter was because she could never find out any real gossip about the Boy Wonder.
.
.
Granger and Weasley stayed until their glasses were empty before Sirius escorted them out towards the floo in the front parlour. The distant roar of the flames carrying them away was almost comforting to Draco. He sat, rigid as a board at the kitchen table, staring at his unfinished drink. He couldn't deny his relief at them finally leaving. He felt like he could breathe again, as though he wasn't walking on glass.
"That went a lot better than I expected," Sirius said from behind him as he closed the kitchen door. He dropped down onto the level flooring, and collapsed into the nearest chair. He sighed heavily before catching sight of Draco's deadpan expression. "Despite the rather poky beginning on your end."
Draco rolled his eyes, "Yeah well, Weasley always did have a temper on him. Apparently the war hasn't helped."
Sirius snorted. "I don't see why it would."
Draco didn't comment. He drained the last of his drink, grimacing at the gritty sugar residue at the bottom.
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep tonight?" Sirius asked his voice low, almost caring.
Draco shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to see."
"You're welcome to wake me up if things are getting a bit too hard on you, you know?" Sirius said. "Just give me a good kick to wake me and I'll help you in any way I can."
"You don't need to lose sleep over me," Draco stated. "I can deal with this on my own."
"I'm aware," the older man said. "I'm merely saying that you don't have to do that anymore, not if you don't want to."
Draco closed his eyes and drew in deep, calming breaths. "I think I'll head up now if you don't mind. It's been a taxing evening."
Sirius gave a silent nod, his eyes following the blonde teen as he walked out of the kitchen.
The stairs creaked so loudly it was a wonder that Walburga didn't start screaming from where her portrait had been buried in the back garden.
Nothing had changed, not really. As Draco lie on top of his bed-covers, the sticky heat making him perspire and fidget relentlessly in the stiff gloom, he couldn't help but feel physically sick at having seen Weasley and Granger earlier that evening. He'd thought he'd done a decent job of blocking out the worst parts of the war, only having to suffer the snippets in his deepest of nightmares.
However, seeing two ghosts from said nightmares was terrifying.
They didn't plead for him to kill them, to spare them, to rid them of their pain by any means possible.
They didn't laugh and leave him to burn in the Fiendfyre.
They didn't come to his trial just to throw owl shit at him.
"I'm not weak!" he growled under his breath, his sweaty hands clenching into fists. "I am a Malfoy! Malfoy's are not weak! We rise above all that makes others weak!"
The words rang hollow in his ears.
If Malfoy's were not weak, then how come his father was in Azkaban? Was that his medal of honour? If Malfoy's were not weak, then why did Narcissa and Draco quietly accept their fates and go about life as though nothing has changed for them?
He was a coward.
He was weak.
A raw sob scratched out of his throat. He pressed his hands over his mouth, trying to suffocate the sobs and the hot tears that bubbled inside his head but refused to come out of his eyes. He lie there, trembling on his bed for a good twenty minutes before his stomach churned and he had to run to the bathroom.
He dry-heaved over the bowl, only a bit of stomach acid and phlegm dribbling out.
He took his time making sure that nothing else was coming up.
Drawing in deep breaths, Draco pulled the chain and sat on the bathroom floor, hunched over with his sweaty face in his hands. It was cooler in the bathroom at least, despite this one not having a window. Once he'd managed to calm himself down and force himself to stand, he brushed the foul taste out of his mouth and rinsed with a peppermint flavoured concoction. Rinsing his mouth out one last time, he avoided looking at his reflection head-on, before heading out onto the landing, turning the light off manually as he went.
At the end of the landing, he paused.
Turning left, he found himself in front of Sirius' door. There was a dull gold light dancing under the doorframe.
Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed the door open.
Sirius was asleep, splayed out like a starfish across his bed. Draco was torn between wanting to see Sirius wake up just so that he wasn't alone in his suffering, and skulking back to his own room and not cause more drama.
However, the promise of a long, sleepless night was enough to make him reach out and prod his cousin's shoulder.
"Sirius?" he hissed quietly, almost wanting the man to not hear him. "Sirius!" He full-on shoved the older man onto his side.
A hand shot out and grabbed his arm, the other pointing a wand to his face.
Mania ebbed out of the steely blue eyes as realisation dawned on Sirius. "Sorry, Draco," he gushed, tossing his wand aside and gripping the blonde by the shoulders. Draco could feel the adrenaline thrumming in his palms. "Force of habit," he hedged, before bending down to peer into Draco's eyes. "You haven't slept," he observed.
"N-no," Draco swallowed thickly, the grip on his shoulders making him regret his decision.
"You went up before me."
He simply nodded.
Sirius' eyes softened as did his death grip on Draco's shoulders. "Climb on in, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself."
Tense, tired and an over-wired brain going a million miles an hour, Draco tried to retreat to the door. "Sorry, this was a mistake. I'll go."
He was halfway out of the door before Sirius called out, "Draco, I promised you, you could come to me if this became an issue again." A pause. "We don't have to talk about but if it helps you sleep for now, I'm here."
Why was it so tempting?
Why, why, why?
Releasing his grip on the door-handle, Draco let it fall closed in its frame before turning to observe Sirius in his king sized bed. Finally, he pursed his lips and nodded, going to the other side of the bed and laid down on the cool covers. Sirius reclined back onto the pillows without saying another word; he merely offered Draco a soft understanding smile, before lacing his fingers cross his chest and closing his eyes.
The floating orbs dimmed their light, making it easier for Draco to relax.
Soon enough, Sirius fell back asleep, his gently snores almost a comfort compared to the voices that screamed in his nightmares. Subconsciously, his breathing pattern seemed to sync with his cousin's and within the hour, Draco fell into a dreamless sleep.
A/N: How are we feeling about Sirius' relationship with Draco? I'm sorry baby-Harry wasn't here to lighten your hearts, but he was having a much needed snooze!