Chapter Twelve The Age-Old Solution

At home, Draco found three letters waiting for him in his study. He wanted nothing more to obliterate the entire day from his mind for good. First Granger and Krum, then their argument, and now this…whatever it was that had happened at the Manor. He poured out a generous measure of Ogden's best and returned to the letters.

With a heavy sigh, he squinted at them, the compulsion of a businessman forcing him to attend to them, loosening his robes and easing into his desk chair. He recognised the handwriting on all three, scowling, and snatched up the most innocuous.

Drake,

Dude, where have you been? You missed Quidditch today, and when I came to your place your house elf said you were out. Hope nothing's gone wrong with the business. Either way you work too hard, mate.

If you get this today I'll be at Philtre tonight if you want to join.

Zabini

Draco groaned. He had completely forgotten to owl Zabini to let him know he couldn't make it to their Quidditch match that morning. Great. Another explanation to make. And this time he couldn't tell much. Potter had let him give his parents the sketchiest of details, but Zabini was a different story. And Zabini had no scruples about prodding for more information. The damn git was far too nosey for his own good. But then he was a Slytherin.

He dropped his forehead to his desk with a thunk. Why did life have to be so complicated? And why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut at the Manor? His father would be furious he knew, his mother would probably still be crying, and oddly enough, he wasn't sorry for a bit of it. Their decisions had made a hell of his later teenage years. They had never discussed it, partly because that was not what families like theirs did, partly because he had not wished to hurt his mother, and partly because Draco had always known that such a topic would only lead to a flaming row and too many unvarnished truths. But then perhaps that was what had been needed. He certainly felt better for it, and there wasn't even the faintest shard of guilt to make him regret what he'd said.

Dammit, can't life be simple just once?

With a groan, and the resolution to try and meet up with Blaise later in the week, he lifted his head only to be confronted with the other two letters. The first was from Granger, the second, his mother. He might have defended Granger to his parents earlier, but that didn't mean he wasn't still angry with her. Her and Krum… He dropped the tumbler with a clunk that left a dent in the wood of his desk. He'd had more than enough of Granger and Krum. And as for his mother… Merlin, why? What did I do to deserve this?

He glared at the letters for several long moments, making his way through the rest of the tumbler before he was willing to even touch them.

He picked up the latter.

Draco,

I must apologise on your father's behalf. He has not been himself since Azkaban, and he finds the restraints placed upon him hard to deal with. I hope that with time he will reconcile himself to them. His aggravation makes him ill-disposed to patience or tolerance.

Though we have never spoken of the matters that you raised, please let me assure you that we never wished to place you in such a situation. Please believe me when I say that I tried my hardest to free you of it. Your father and I have always tried to act with your best interests in mind, and although our decisions have brought you grief and troubles, they were not made with ill intent. I do hope that we can talk further on this.

Although I do not hold your father's exact sentiments towards Miss Granger, I cannot say that I am pleased to hear that you are working with her. I must confess that although I do not mind Muggles, or the idea of Muggle-borns, your associating with one causes me some distress. Especially considering the past that you share. You yourself have admitted that it has not been exactly amiable. Please do not antagonise her in any way. With your father experiencing the difficulties that he is, we cannot afford to alienate someone with such power of his future as she.

I am most concerned about what you said about former Death Eaters being targets. We have been much in the papers since your father's release, and I hope the Ministry will take appropriate cautions.

We shall see you on Tuesday.

Yours affectionately,

Mother

Draco was torn between sighing and crumpling up the letter to throw into the fire. There were too many things in the missive that he had issues with. After all that had just passed between them, how could she write to him so composedly? He understood why his parents had made the decisions they had, but it didn't make it easier for him to forgive them. And if his mother still had reservations about Muggle-borns when it came to interacting with them, how on earth could his father succeed at even thinking well of them?

Let him flounder.

At that moment he couldn't care less. There was the possibility that he and his parents were on the hit list of a murderer they couldn't even guess the identity of, what they thought they knew about the murderer was mostly speculation, and there was every chance that they would strike again before the Ministry found anything more; his father getting over his blood prejudices really didn't figure as important when compared to that.

Draco eyed Granger's letter, refilling the tumbler and slowly sipping his way through it.

He'd guessed that she'd gotten his address from Potter or the training forms, so he wasn't entirely surprised that she'd managed to find his home last night or that her letter had been delivered – he'd adjusted the wards on his fireplaces the night he'd signed the contract and the Floo Network Authority had connected the Ministry to his home – but he eyed her neat, narrow writing all the same, his gaze fixed on the flourishes on the D of 'Draco' and the F and Y of 'Malfoy'. There was something nice about the way she shaped them.

He shook himself, eyed the letter again, then dropped the tumbler and picked the letter up.

Malfoy,

Viktor and I were talking and it reminded me about your parents. I know you have asked them for any information they might have about unaccounted for Death Eaters, and who might be a likely suspect out of those witches and wizards we know to have blood prejudices, but I thought it might be a good idea to ask them about Dark Magic – especially the Dark Mark. The headway I've made isn't helping much, and they might be able to offer a new perspective, or mention something that could help.

Harry has been trying to question some of the Death Eaters in Azkaban when he goes there to see if any of them can cast the Mark, but none of them are being very helpful. The Carrows are too stupid, Rookwood only spits insults, Avery declares he knows nothing, McNair has tried but can't, and Yaxley just stares at Harry. I'm quite sure that Dolohov might be able to shed some light, but it's too dangerous to bring him out of the magically induced coma.

I thought I might arrange a meeting with your parents, if possible? You are quite knowledgeable, and I remember you mentioning that the Manor has an extensive library. It might be that there is a book in there that we've missed.

Kind regards,

Hermione

Draco stared at the letter, clutching it hard enough to rip in two.

What she said made sense, if there was any way possible of his parents ever speaking to her in a way that was halfway civil, but he had blotted out the rest of her letter after reading the first few words of her opening sentence. Viktor and I.

Visions of them sharing her cosy settee before the fire filled his mind, their heads tilted towards each other, murmuring endearments, and of her smiling at Krum in that way that made him want to punch holes in walls, and Granger's house had not seemed large enough to have a guest room.

Draco tossed the letter aside, downing the rest of the Firewhiskey in one gulp, and got to his feet, making for his doorstep. A visit to Philtre with Blaise was exactly what he needed right now.


"Draco! Mate, I didn't think you were going to make it!" Blaise clapped Draco on the back as they neared one another, momentarily dragging his attention away from the pretty blonde witch he had been talking to at the bar.

"Blaise," Draco greeted, somewhat more reservedly. The music in this place really was too loud. "Sorry about the match – something came up at work."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. He turned back to the waiting blonde. "I'll catch up with you later, darlin'," he purred, giving her a long kiss and watching her appreciatively as she trotted off with a giggle.

Draco rolled his eyes slightly at his friend's theatricality, but smirked slightly. He hadn't been out with Blaise for a little while, and he was finding he'd actually missed it. It felt good to act their age and not have to worry about work or crazed murderers.

Blaise turned perceptive eyes on him, his expression serious again, and he jerked his head towards the quieter end of the bar, leading the way past the club's writhing dancefloor to where a couple of empty stools were.

"Right. Tell me."

Draco waited until the bartender had delivered the redcurrant vodka shots Blaise had ordered for them, downing his first two in quick succession.

Blaise watched him with widened eyes. "Geez, go easy there, Draco."

Draco grunted, taking a third shot, a little more slowly, and setting the glass down with a crack.

"I see signs of woman trouble," Blaise commented smoothly, taking his first shot, and eyeing his friend slyly.

Draco rolled his eyes again, sneering slightly. "Woman trouble – not exactly. Trouble with a pig-headed, blind, interfering woman – yes. And trouble with my parents. Unbelievable trouble with my father. Trouble with work. Trouble with just everything in general."

Blaise downed his second and third shots. "Sounds like you need more drinks," he waved at the bartender and another six shots were delivered.

Draco knocked back his three like they were water, feeling his head beginning to spin as he set the last glass down. He had a very high alcohol tolerance after abusing his system for so long, but six vodka shots on top of about four Firewhiskies was starting to get to him.

"You want to talk about it?" Blaise asked, taking his fourth shot.

Draco shook his head, then stopped as it made his brain feel like it was rattling around the inside of his skull.

"Get wasted with women?" Blaise suggested, finishing his other two shots.

"Yeah," Draco managed, his mouth extremely dry in spite of his drinking. He waved at the bartender for a Gillywater, gulping it down.

"Right," Blaise clapped his hands together. "Where'd that blonde witch go? She had a friend…"


Draco woke up the next morning face down on an unfamiliar bed.

He wrinkled his nose at the stale smell, and came to the very quick realisation that he was not at home. There was no way his house elves would let his bed or any part of his apartment get as disgusting as this. He could smell old sweat, body odour, and sex.

With a great effort, he lifted himself up on his elbows, peeling his face from the sheet, and opening his eyes with great difficulty.

He was in a poorly furnished garret apartment, and a girl with green streaks through her blonde hair was lying beside him, her face turned into a makeup-smudged pillow.

Draco restrained a groan, cursing himself for drinking so much the previous night. He never stayed the night, and he was quite sure that if he hadn't been so plastered he would never have come away from the club with a witch like this. He recalled why he'd gone out in the first place – his anger with Granger and the things he'd said to his parents – and cursed himself for not drinking more.

He got up quickly, his head pounding with an unrelenting hangover, scrabbling about for his discarded clothes. He was fairly sure he hadn't taken them off himself. He regarded the comatose female in the bed once he had his trousers on. She really wasn't that attractive looking like that. Although, truth be told, he couldn't even remember her, let alone whether she'd been attractive last night. He didn't recall any contraceptives being used, but then he didn't recall much of the previous night at all. Drinking with Blaise, his head spinning with the fluorescent lights on the dancefloor, and pounding with the too-loud music and the overture of the hangover he was currently experiencing, women pressing against him…the rest was blotted out. Forcing himself to focus, he pointed his wand at her, casting a morning-after contraceptive charm, and then giving himself a quick scouring charm in the event she wasn't clean. The last thing he needed on top of everything else was a rampant STI. That had happened once. Not pleasant.

The girl began to stir, and he spun quickly, apparating home.


Draco remembered that it was Monday halfway through his shower. The clock was well on its way towards noon, and he arrived at the Ministry with his hair still wet.

"Late night," he grunted as he let himself into the office, taking great care not to let the door bang shut behind him.

Harry grinned, recognising the signs of a momentous hangover, and jerked his head at the filing cabinets. "Use the third key. There should be a bottle of Humberto's Hellish Hangover Cure in there somewhere."

Draco nodded his thanks, wincing slightly as the movement made the room spin, and headed over to the filing cabinet, appreciating its presence for once. He had his own brews for hangovers, but at the moment he didn't have a great deal of faith in his potion-making abilities.

"Drink too much, Malfoy?" Hermione asked lightly, restraining a smirk of amused disapproval as he shuddered at the crash of the cabinet door opening. She debated whether or not to mention that his hair was still wet and dribbling water down the back of his neck and inside his collar, and decided against it. There was little sense in provoking him, especially as he seemed to have calmed down since yesterday.

He grunted.

Hermione giggled silently, grinning over at Harry, and returned to her work.


Ahh, Draco...nothing like a hangover to teach you a lesson XD

So not too much really happens in terms of action in this chapter, but I think it's a bit of a fun one. I always enjoy exploring other areas of the wizarding world and life. It's only a short one, unfortunately, as it used to be much longer but had to be split. I will try to post the next one quite soon in April :)

Hope you enjoyed it!

Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)

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