Chapter 8

He had only been sitting there a little while when Claire found him, as he'd known deep down she would, considering he was in their spot. She was dressed for dinner with her hair still pulled up in some fancy way Hermione had put it in that morning; they'd been doing each other's hair and the styles seemed to get more intricate every day. He couldn't deny that she looked pretty. She was pretty.

He felt conflicted about that, on one hand he was proud of her, she was his cousin; on the other hand she was his cousin and he now knew how guys at school talked about pretty girls. And he didn't have any way to protect her at Beauxbatons all the way from Scotland. It was frustrating, life was becoming very frustrating.

"Okay Cousin," she said, seating herself beside him on the tangle of branches that used to be a perfectly sized bench for the two of them, but was now getting to be a tight fit, "what's wrong?" she demanded, "and don't bother lying to me, I know you, you've been pouting since I got here. Four days is a lot of pouting.

"I don't pout," he retorted.

She burst out laughing.

"'I don't pout,' says the pouting dragon," she mocked.

"Care…" he whined.

It slipped out, it really did, the moniker he'd given her as a small child when he couldn't properly pronounce her name, but he was feeling a lot like that little boy at the moment. She sobered immediately.

"Well, now I know it's serious, when was the last time you called me that?" she studied him carefully, he could feel her eyes on him but he stubbornly refused to look at her, "I know you're not a little kid anymore, Draco, you don't have to act all tough around me. I mean, it's just me," she bumped her shoulder against his, "tell me what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he insisted.

"Are you mad at Uncle Lucius? Because you usually spend a lot more time with him."

"I spend plenty of time with him," he responded automatically.

"When you have to, for lessons and meals, otherwise you've been avoiding him."

"Well he has Hermione to talk to now," he groused, and was immediately embarrassed by his admission.

Claire just stared at him, blinking slowly, obviously processing that, "are you jealous of Hermione's relationship with your father?" she eventually managed to ask.

"No," he objected automatically, but there was a pang somewhere in the vicinity of his chest at her words.

She continued to stare at him, clearly disbelieving. Her knowing blue eyes were too much. He looked away uncomfortably, stripping a leaf off a branch and shredding it in agitation.

"I don't understand how she did it," he admitted

"Did what?"

"He likes her!"

"And that's a problem? You like her. I like her. Goddess, Aunt Cissy has practically adopted her," she stopped short, "is that why you're mad?"

"No! It's different with Father."

"Why?"

"This time last year he wouldn't have allowed her in the house."

"And you wish he wouldn't let her in the house?"

"Stop it Claire, you know that's not what I mean!"

"So what do you mean?" she wondered, with manufactured wide eyed innocence.

He resisted the urge to shove her.

"I could never talk to him the way she does."

"Well, that would require you to actually talk to him," she quipped

Draco actually growled in frustration.

"She gets to tell him what she thinks, he allows her to be almost impertinent with him.

"So?"

"So? He'd never allow me that kind of latitude."

"Well you aren't her."

"Exactly."

"No, you're missing my point, you can't expect him to treat you the same way he treats Hermione. He's never treated you and I exactly the same, and that's never seemed to bother you in the past."

"But you're different," he objected.

"Why?"

"Because you're my cousin."

"So now it's a problem that Hermione isn't a Malfoy? Because technically I'm not either, I'm a de Verley," she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes.

"No, I just mean that you grew up here, she's been here for a few weeks. He would barely have an audience with me alone until I was eight or nine," he trailed off miserably.

Her eyes fell closed, "oh Draco," she said sympathetically, "he loves you, you're his son, his heir. You know this."

"Yeah like he was Grandfather's heir, I'm not so sure that's such a great thing."

There was a long heavy silence filled with many things they'd never dared speak aloud. Claire looked around frantically, and then moved even closer to him so that she was speaking almost directly into his ear.

"Uncle Lucius isn't Grandfather."

"Oh yeah? Have you seen that mark on his arm?" he snapped.

He cringed even as the words were leaving his mouth and then it was his turn to look around frantically, he couldn't even imagine what would happen if they were overheard. And that was the crux of the matter, he didn't know what to think about so many things anymore.

There were things that just weren't spoken of, that had been an ironclad rule at Malfoy Manor his whole life, a rule his parents had broken that afternoon in his father's study when his father had shown them his Mark. As a result, he no longer knew which side was up. And he envied Hermione's ability to just bounce back from that, to befriend his father when he, his own son, had trouble looking him in the eye.

"That doesn't matter, it's not the same," she whispered.

"It doesn't matter?" he burst out, much more loudly than he'd intended.

"Shhhh!" she hissed.

"Do you even know what it is?" he dared.

"The Dark Mark," she admitted glumly.

"Who told you that? Not Grandfather," he discounted that possibility immediately, his grandfather and cousin never talked.

"I heard about it, the war and all, at school and then I asked Mother and Father."

He stared at her incredulously, he couldn't believe she had the gall to question her parents about such a taboo topic.

"Well," she defended, "I'd been looking at it since I was little, and it's obviously not a normal tattoo. Then I heard kids at school talking and I just had to know."

"So you know what they did, they killed people Claire, people like Hermione."

"Yeah," she murmured, playing with the hem of her sleeve.

"And now all of a sudden he's okay with Hermione, treating her almost like family. I mean before he was just letting mother have her way, but not anymore. And I just don't know what happened!" he blew out a frustrated breath.

"I think you need to talk to Uncle Lucius," she said quietly, then she gave a little laugh when she saw the disbelieving way he was looking at her, "I'm serious Draco, he's your father, you can't avoid him forever."

"Weren't you mad, when you found out he was a Death Eater, I mean?"

She nodded.

"I didn't notice anything, you never seemed mad."

"I guess I'd gotten over it by the next time I came here."

"Oh yeah, how'd you manage that?" he scoffed.

"Well, Mother said that it was complicated and that even though he had done bad things that he wasn't a bad man," she paused, chewing on her lip, "she didn't say the same thing about Grandfather," she added in a whisper.

"And you just believed Aunt Adele?

"No, not exactly, it meant something that she said that, and that my father agreed with her, but it wasn't that simple. But when I started thinking about it I realized that Aunt Cissy would never be with somebody, and love him the way she loves Uncle Lucius if he was, I don't know, evil. And I know him too Draco, he's always been wonderful to me and I've been welcome here, I was more their kid than I was my own parents' most of the time. And I love him so I just, I don't know, forgave him? And even after I knew the truth I didn't see him as a Death Eater; he's Uncle Lucius you know? I mean, what do you see?"

Draco thought about that for a long time.

"I don't know," he eventually concluded; she made a small strangled sound at that pronouncement and wrapped her arms around him.

They sat like there for awhile after that, her arms wrapped around one of his, her head resting comfortingly on his shoulder, until an elf popped in to call them to dinner.

The meal was uncomfortable, Claire was too preoccupied with shooting Draco encouraging glances to do anything to break up the tension that constantly lingered between Draco and his parents these days. Unfortunately, his mother spotted the odd byplay.

"Is there something the two of you would like to share with us?" she asked in a tone that made Draco cringe.

Claire gave him one last pleading look and he knew that if he didn't say something, she would rat him out, and that would just be pathetic.

"Father," he said, gathering his courage and looking him in the eyes, "may I speak with you after dinner?"

"Of course, Son, will Claire be joining us?" he looked at his niece pointedly.

"No," Draco assured him, "just me, I, well I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Very well."

When the last of the plates were cleared his father stood and rounded the table to offer his mother his arm.

"Did you have a particular venue in mind for this discussion, Draco?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'm going to escort your mother and cousin upstairs, please meet me outside the door to my study, there's somewhere I'd like to show you."

Draco was surprised but he kept his face carefully blank.

"Yes, Father."

"Lucius, you two go ahead, Claire and I will be just fine on our own."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, in fact I think I might like to spend some time in the solarium, it's so lovely this time of year."

"Alright," he acquiesced.

But before they parted they exchanged a glance that Draco didn't understand himself, but he knew said more than a thousand words between them could. His father squeezed his mother's hand that was resting on his arm, and then released it and made his way over to Draco. Draco turned to follow him obediently out the door.

His father set a brisk pace, the kind that Draco used to have to run to keep up with him. Now he just walked very fast. The older wizard must have noticed this change too.

"You're getting tall, you've grown several inches just this year. You'll need all new robes for the fall."

He turned his head to look at his son, his lips lifted slightly at one corner and Draco's heart soared at the little inside joke.

"We both know Mother would have insisted on new robes anyway, if only to torture us with the shopping," he responded, playing his role in the joking exchange.

"That witch," his father chuckled fondly, "is the only woman in the world who could make clothes shopping a mandatory outing for the entire family and make it sound like a perfectly logical request, I only argue with her anymore because she expects it. Don't tell her I said that, by the way."

Draco grinned internally.

"I won't," a beat of silence as they crossed out of the house and onto the grounds, Draco looked around curiously, wondering where his father could possibly be taking him, but he knew better than to ask, if he'd wanted him to know before they reached their destination he would have told him, so he asked another question instead, "Father, do you think I'll be as tall as you?"

He did not even glance at him.

"I think given the rate you are already growing and your mother's height, that you have a good chance of surpassing me."

"Oh," said Draco dumbly, that had never occurred to him and he was rather floored by the idea.

They walked for a few minutes in silence before his father came to an abrupt halt at a spot by the lake. Draco looked around in confusion, it was a rather picturesque area, near his and Claire's favored spot, actually, but he couldn't imagine what was so special about it that his father had led them out here.

"I know that you mostly resemble me in appearance and manner," his father said suddenly, "I know that you've been told your whole life how much of a prototypical Malfoy you are," he had been looking out over the water but he turned and looked directly at Draco, "but sometimes you are so like your mother that it takes my breath away and I am eternally grateful for it."

Draco was aware that he had just been given a very great compliment, his father held nobody in higher regard than his mother, he just had no idea what to say to it. Luckily he just continued on speaking.

"Did you know we were married here?" he asked, gesturing around them.

Draco shook his head. Frankly, he was surprised. He'd seen pictures of his parents wedding, of course, but either they hadn't been taken at the sight of the binding, or Draco just hadn't been paying attention. He'd known they'd been married at the Manor, of course, as Malfoys had been for hundreds of years, but he would have expected a more formal location, the main ballroom, or at least the formal gardens.

"Cissa was absolutely adamant, this is where the magic was right, this is where we were to bind ourselves to each other," his eyes were distant and Draco wasn't sure he was even really talking to him anymore, he so rarely heard his father use that diminutive of his mother's name and it felt strangely like he'd overheard something intimate, but then he snapped back into focus and actually smiled at his son, "I know now, after nearly twenty years of witnessing her plan social functions, that she was surprisingly laid back about the wedding, but this was one issue on which she wouldn't budge"

"That sounds like Mother," Draco mused hesitantly.

His father made a small sound of agreement.

"Your grandfather was appalled, he didn't think we could hold a ritual here that would be befitting of a Malfoy, called the idea 'provincial' if I remember correctly."

Something inside Draco roared up in protest at the slight against his mother, and it must have been reflected on his face because his father chuckled.

"I felt exactly the same way, and so I put my foot down. It was the only time I ever did that, the only time I refused to bend to his wishes and fought for what I truly wanted, and I only had the strength to do it because it was for your mother."

Draco was now completely at loose ends. Nothing in his upbringing had taught him how to respond to this kind of open confession from his stoic father.

"Was he angry for long?" he ventured to ask.

His father actually snorted, albeit quietly, it was still a clear sound of derision.

"He forgot about it almost immediately, the wedding meant very little to him in the end, and he had other things to attend to. Actually, as it turns out, I'm sure you are aware that your mother and grandmother both have exquisite tastes, and our wedding ended up being the event of the season. It was the beginning of a trend of outdoor weddings, at least I'm told; your mother was vastly amused by that. The old man probably convinced himself it had actually been his idea in the end," he practically growled, Draco took an unconscious step back at the sound and his father winced, reached for him, and then seemed to think better of it.

"That is the last thing I want from my relationship with you, Son. For you to feel like you can't disagree with me, or talk to me. I do hope that I have earnt your respect, and that I continue to do so, but I do not want you to mindlessly follow me, or feel like you cannot tell me when you think I am wrong."

Draco just peered at him nervously, not knowing what to make of that little speech, of this whole situation.

"Draco, I know that there have been things weighing heavily on your mind these past weeks, maybe even longer than that. So with what I just said in mind, will you tell me what you wanted to discuss with me? Or, should I say what Claire thinks you need to discuss with me?" he asked with the cock of one brow.

Draco felt himself grow red at being called out.

"I'm sorry, Son, that was not a criticism, I was merely teasing. I am glad that you have people to confide in, Claire and Hermione are both good options. You are right to value both of their opinions. I'm glad you gave into Claire's obvious prodding and asked to speak with me."

Draco bit his lip and considered his options, ultimately deciding he'd probably never have a better opportunity to speak freely to the man.

"May I ask a question?"

He gave a sharp nod.

"You said that I'm like Mother, I was wondering what you meant by that."

His father actually smiled then and pointed to the copse of trees where he and Claire had hidden themselves earlier and had their talk, to their spot.

"I've watched you play there since you were a toddler. Your mother used to bring you down here, as I said the magic feels good to her in this area. But as you got older you returned on your own, I know that you and Claire favor those trees. I think you feel something similar to what your mother feels here, you have something of her intuitive nature. And the two of you look so alike when you are feeling unfettered, are capable of inspiring such joy, I know how much I enjoyed watching you in those moments," his smile and his voice were wistful as he spoke.

Draco reeled, the surprises just kept on coming. He had no idea his father had watched him play, and had approved; he had not been opposed to his son having fun, but he'd always favored more regimented activities: riding, flying, even swimming. It had been his mother who insisted he be allowed to more or less run wild once in awhile.

"And then there is that smile," Draco was brought out of his reverie and realized he was smiling broadly, "that is your mother through and through, I had nearly forgotten, it had been so long since I'd seen a true smile from you before Hermione entered our lives."

Draco digested this gratefully and then realized that he was never going to get a better segue.

"Why are you okay with Hermione?" he blurted

That brought his father up short.

"I assume you are speaking of her blood status?" he asked tersely.

Draco nodded and swallowed thickly. His father had turned towards the lake and gone completely rigid. But then he took a deep breath and turned back to his son, words nearly tumbling out of his mouth.

"It almost didn't happen, our wedding, not because your grandfather objected to the location, but before that, for most of the year after I graduated from Hogwarts, your mother's last year there, I was worried that he was going to void our betrothal contract. I know that he considered doing so for months."

Draco gawked at his father, of everything he'd learned this evening this was the most unbelievable. In his world there was one thing that was solid and indestructible: his parents. Not each of them in turn, with their formidable personalities, but them together as one entity. He wasn't sure if he was so much disturbed by the idea that he would not have existed had his grandfather acted on his threat, or just that his parents would never have been married, would surely have been paired with other people; he thought it was mostly the latter. Because he couldn't imagine a world where they weren't together.

"Why?" Draco gasped

His grandfather may not have cared that his parents loved each other, but the things he did care about were present in the match too. On paper they were a perfect couple. A Malfoy and a Black: two of the oldest and most respected families in England, both had perfect pedigrees, both were Sacred 28, both Slytherins, both had the same values and life objectives. Draco couldn't imagine why he would want to prevent such a marriage from coming to pass.

"You are aware that you have aunts, other than your Aunt Adele of course?"

At this point, finally exhausted by the weight of the things they were discussing, Draco actually dropped to the ground. He expected to be reprimanded, and was more than surprised when his father removed his outer robes, threw them onto the ground, and transfigured them into a blanket. He settled himself onto it carefully and encouraged Draco to do the same. He moved warily, but followed his father's direction.

"Yes, I know that Mother had two sisters," he answered warily- the other two Black sisters were yet another subject that just wasn't discussed in their family, until now, apparently.

"Has," his father corrected, "they are both still alive, but they have each been alienated from us, though in very different ways. By the time your mother was in her final year at Hogwarts her eldest sister Bellatrix was largely considered to be unstable, if not completely insane. On the surface she was an obedient pure blooded woman, but her true nature was hardly disguised. She was married off to the only man who would have her, and he was equally disturbed. Theirs was generously described as a marriage of convenience and they barely kept up appearances for propriety's sake. It was an embarrassment to her family. She is in Azkaban now."

"Yes I know," he said, leaving unspoken that he also knew that she was in Azkaban for crimes committed as a Death Eater.

"But the real blow was Andromeda, your mother's middle sister who, despite being promised to another, ran off and married a muggleborn wizard just after our graduation from Hogwarts. She fell pregnant shortly thereafter, the scandal was enormous and my father would have been, legally and magically, well within his rights to cancel the contract for your mother. Her family was considered untrustworthy at that point."

"But he didn't?"

"He didn't, your mother is a remarkable creature, and she was still a Black, despite most of her generation being disgraced, there were few families that could compare to that pedigree. In the end she managed to convince him that she would still be a credit to the Malfoy name, and she has proven herself more than admirably, Father certainly never complained."

There was a long beat of silence as Draco absorbed this.

"I'm sorry Father, I don't understand what that has to do with Hermione."

"I never wanted to see you in that position, feeling like you may have to choose between your family and the woman you love. Not because of her family, not even because of her blood status. I don't even want you to miss out on a friendship that makes you happy because of me and my opinions. Hermione has proven herself a strong, powerful, loving witch; I won't stand in your way if she is what you want. And as I said Draco, I don't want to be my father, it was clear to me that you and your mother loved her, so I endeavoured to get to know her. I was pleased with what I found. Do you disapprove of my relationship with her?"

Draco felt simultaneously shamed and alarmed, he'd underestimated his father, but was the man actual suggesting he might marry Hermione?!

"No, I just… this time last summer you would have called her a mudblood and forbidden me to associate with her."

His father sighed heavily.

"Earlier I encouraged you to trust the opinions of the people you trust. I will add to that and say that should you find a woman you love and respect, you should follow her opinion above any other. I have found that with your mother, she convinced me to give your Hermione a chance and the witch has acquitted herself well. As usual your mother was right, your friend is more than worth our time and attention."

"I just, I don't get it, you're so different with her!" he blurted.

"Am I?" he questioned, like the idea had never occurred to him.

"You talk to her like she's a friend, not like a kid. And every time I think you are about to scold her for impertinence you just laugh!" he immediately ducked his head against the expected fallout.

"Draco, look at me."

He immediately obeyed and turned his head to see his father looking almost pained. Then with slow deliberate movements he reached over and laid a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"It is important to remember, however much I have come to enjoy her company over these weeks, that I am not her father and therefore I am able to afford her a degree of...leniency that I cannot offer you. However, I do believe I may have erred on the side of formality in my interactions with you. Your grandfather would not have approved of me treating you as anything like an equal, and I did want to ensure that you learnt respect. But while you are still young, you are no longer a child, and you deserve to be shown some respect of your own, you have earnt it. I will endeavor to do so."

He paused to let his words sink in, Draco just stared at him in disbelief, he'd never heard him speak like this.

"I hope you know how proud I am of you," he continued, "You performed impressively at Hogwarts this year, and you have adapted to a myriad of changes in your life in a short time and with little complaint. I was especially impressed with the maturity with which you handled the situation with the dragon at school. I am aware that there were many ways you could have taken advantage of that to cause mischief, instead of just coming to me. You handled that like a man, a wizard with honor, and not a boy."

Draco was simultaneously willing away a blush and fighting back tears.

"Thank you," he eventually managed, his father squeezed his shoulder and finally let his hand drop.

They sat their in silent solidarity for a few minutes, before his father began to speak again.

"Hermione is an extraordinary young witch, you would do well to remember that and hold onto her."

Draco looked at him, blinking rapidly in confusion.

"Father you keep speaking as if you expect me to marry her."

He gave an elegant shrug of one shoulder, "expect, no, but I do see it as a possibility and I certainly wouldn't want you to take for granted what you have with her and ruin your chance. You would certainly be hard pressed to find a witch your mother approves of more, and I challenge you to try and bring a woman into this house of whom your mother does not approve," he chuckled to himself.

Draco was barely listening, he decided to put off thinking about his best friend in this new light for another day, he had enough to consider at the moment.

"And you would be okay with that? I mean, she's muggle born. Our children would be half-bloods."

His father looked at him with penetrating eyes.

"I've learnt that there are other, more important factors than blood. Your happiness for one."

"Is that the reason you won't be returning to the Dark Lord, if he returns?"

Draco couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw him flinch at the question.

"There are myriad reasons not to continue to follow the Dark Lord, not the least of which is that he is unhinged and dangerous, and would certainly be more so if he was able to come back, but that is one as well."

There was a long uncomfortable silence.

"You have questions about my time as a Death Eater," it was a statement, not a question.

Draco hesitated. Could he really ask about this, and did he actually want to know the answers? With a resigned sigh he admitted to himself that had to ask or he'd always wonder, and it would be a thing that was always between them.

"You said something when you were talking to me and Hermione about performing horrific acts...did you hurt people?" he said in a very small voice.

"Yes," he answered, voice heavy with an emotion Draco had never heard before.

"Did you," his voice caught momentarily in his throat, "kill people?"

"Yes," Draco couldn't look at him, "and it does not excuse my actions, but although I now realize I was on the wrong side of it, we were at war, and it was a matter of survival."

Draco struggled to regulate his breathing.

"If you would like for me to leave you alone now so that you can think, I will. I do not expect you to understand or to be able to forgive me right away, but I hope you will be able to one day. Please know that you have nothing to fear from me, I am not perfect, but I am your father and I love you."

Draco could hold back no longer, he sobbed and reached for his father blindly. In moments he was surrounded by his father's familiar scent and the unfamiliar comfort of his arms around him. He let himself go and just cried. They sat there for a long time as Draco finally released the pent up emotions that had been eating at him. When he had finally cried himself out he went to pull away, embarrassed by his childish behavior and the way he'd soaked his father's shirt. But his father's hold on him just tightened.

"Do not, for one moment, be ashamed of yourself for that."

He nearly started crying again at that sentiment from a man who had always expected him to hide his emotions, but he just nodded against his chest.

"And if you take nothing else from this talk, know that I would gladly burn the world down if it meant keeping you and your mother safe and happy, you are all that matter."

Draco thought, if his father had said nothing else to him, that would have been enough, and he sagged against him in relief.

Author's note: If anybody is wondering how much reviews mean or how much they can influence and inspire a writer, let me just say that this chapter only exists because of my reviewers. I never planned to write this, but people have been requesting Draco's point of view for awhile and then, last chapter, Harmonic Wisp expressed worry for Draco, legitimate worry given what I've been throwing at the poor kid. But I didn't see that on my own and needed to have it pointed out. I realized it was time we heard from him, and to address some issues, as a result the story is richer. So thank you to you all, and an extra thanks to my reviewers this chapter! Next update I think I can resist bringing any of these characters to tears!