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A Subtle Change
Chapter 34
It had taken a lot of convincing, and many deputations from Fudge, Druscilla Thornfield, and Rashid Chaudry of the Auror office, but Hogwarts had eventually relented and allowed the Aurors to interview Harry Potter.
Rashid had gone to conduct the interview himself, which Druscilla suspected had helped. It had fast become clear to her that the Senior Auror's clear and calm manner had played much more of a role in gaining the Ministry access to Harry than anything she or Fudge had contributed. She refused however to admit just how much this galled her. She'd stayed clear of the boy herself, unwilling to appear as though she were in fact seeking the endorsement Remus had questioned her about, and privately certain that she could be of no help to the child or his situation. She was not however above requisitioning Rashid's report, together with the interview transcript, as soon as they were ready.
Druscilla had spent the morning reading both with an increasingly aching heart. The transcript in particular, the raw unvarnished words of a teenage boy, held a hell of a lot more punch than the Daily Prophet's purple prose on the matter as they speculated day after day just how much The Boy Who Lived had suffered and how. She'd failed to find a way to silence the press despite leaking anything and everything that might provide an alternative, but everything from the rounding up of the last Death Eaters to the medals already rumoured for various fallen Aurors led the Prophet right back to Harry Potter.
Having done all she could, and failed to see an effect, Druscilla confronted Remus over lunch after he had, once again, shown up unannounced. She supposed that sooner or later she'd have to have a word with him about that, it was all rather domestic for her liking. Harry however was a more pressing concern. "You have to talk to him," she urged for the fourth time in the space of twenty minutes.
"I have been." Remus had consistently given her the same evasive answer, leaving her frustrated and desperate enough to wonder if she should 'accidentally' let him see the interview transcript. That however was a confidential leak too far for even her conscience.
"Well, keep doing it," Druscilla insisted. "I can't share anything with you, but the report from his interview doesn't make for easy reading."
"You're really worried about him." Remus smiled softly.
"Well, yes, of course I am." The child had nearly died, she'd rather supposed everyone was worried about him.
"No," Remus shook his head, "You're worried about Harry, not The Boy Who Lived, not the symbol of hope for the wizarding world, you're worried about him."
His soft, pleased, utterly open expression suddenly annoyed the hell out of her. "Did you think me entirely heartless?" she sneered.
"Of course not. Dru..." he reached out with a worried frown and she snatched her arm away.
"No. Just go. I've had enough today. I've got a busy day tomorrow and I need to get some more work done. You should get going."
"Right. Ok." Remus offered her a forced smile. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
"No." She softened slightly, "I'll see you at the funeral the day after."
"Right," his smile tightened and he didn't bother attempting to kiss her goodbye.
The door closed behind him quietly, leaving her half sorry, half relieved.
XXXXXXX
Severus had brewed the requested Dreamless Sleep Potion and it had proved just as side-effect free as he had claimed. Minerva used it sparingly but had insisted that he take some himself for a couple of nights. He had grouched, grumbled, snapped, and been downright offensive at the worst moment in that conversation, but he'd taken it. He'd also looked a damned sight better after a couple of nights of decent sleep and become rather easier to manage.
Managing Severus, managing all of the teaching staff, was now solely her responsibility, and though everyone was being as supportive as she could have asked it wasn't yet a task Minerva relished. Managing a sleep-deprived Severus was not an extra-level of difficulty she was at all willing to tolerate at present. Even better rested he wasn't proving to be easy. He was clearly trying so hard to support her, to not make her job and her life more difficult, but Severus was also clearly struggling himself. He consistently refused to talk much about the loss of Albus, about his experiences with the Death Eaters and the clear conflict he felt at the ending of his role as a double-agent. A frighteningly large proportion of his house were barely speaking to him, and she was aware he'd received any number of anonymous threats since the fall of Voldemort. She'd received more than a few herself and was certain they came from the kind of armchair activists who would never dare to put their words into action, but she doubted they'd improved Severus' day any more than they had her own.
On top of all that there was the treatment he'd received from his one time favourite student. Draco Malfoy had been impossible for anyone to handle but his behaviour towards Severus had been far beyond the pale. Only the clear grief he was battling through was keeping Minerva from taking serious action against him.
In the end she'd had to have Professor Sinistra escort Draco to his parents' very small, very private, funeral, which seemed to have been arranged by the family lawyers with all the haste that decency (and the investigating Ministry) would allow. She'd hoped Draco might have calmed down enough to allow Severus to escort him but the boy constantly oozed a bitter hostility that amplified so badly in Severus' presence that the very idea of sending him anywhere under his Head of House's supervision had been unthinkable.
The rest of Slytherin were a mix of fear, hostility, hope and celebration. As a house their responses ran the full spectrum, but none of them seemed to have taken Severus's double agent role well. She could understand, as indeed Severus himself clearly did, he'd been the one adult they'd all more of less trusted and he'd been lying to them. Even those who supported his reasons for lying were looking at him with new, more wary, eyes.
Though Slytherin did seem to manage to centre a disproportionate amount of Hogwarts' problems, the other houses were by no means being easy of late either. Students in all houses were upset, some had lost family and friends, which was made more difficult to deal with when others were still raucously celebratory.
All in all, a visit from the woman everyone assumed (or at least the woman herself assumed) was going to be the next Minister for Magic did not look likely to brighten Minerva's day. She'd not been terribly fond of Druscilla as a student and, though she'd found the adult version to be a vast improvement, she still could have thought of any number of people she'd rather have accosting herself and Severus on their way to lunch.
The fact Thornfield hadn't given any notice of her arrival rankled, Minerva did not like the idea that the Ministry felt entitled to drop in at any given moment. Worse still though, the woman appeared to have arrived bearing news. Minerva had started to believe that there was no longer such a thing as good news. Every day seemed to bring to light some further tragedy as the Ministry appeared to be leaking like a colander.
Still, Druscilla wasn't going to just go away until she'd been heard, in that respect she'd not changed at all. "You'd better step up to the office." Minerva had bitten the bullet and moved into Dumbledore's office, but it was still 'the' office, it didn't yet feel like hers. She gestured to Severus to follow them and Druscilla made no objection, indeed she looked pleased by it. Minerva couldn't help but tense at the idea that Druscilla's 'news' might have anything to do with Severus. If it was like the rest of the news floating about it would be the last thing he needed. She said nothing though, merely leading the way up the spiral stone stairs.
Dumbledore would likely have offered tea, or at least a sherbet lemon, but Minerva simply offered the other woman a chair. Future Minister or not, Minerva had a school to run and no time for a tea party at present. Severus remained standing.
Druscilla sat rather more tensely than usual. "I'm here because we've been contacted by the Malfoy lawyers, they want to move on with the will reading. They'll be sending Draco an official notification but I thought it best that we let the school know, it'll be at their offices in Diagon Alley."
"Someone will need to accompany him." Severus clarified Druscilla's point succinctly.
"Yes, you should go." Minerva assumed that, little as he would want to, Severus was unlikely to entrust the boy to anyone else this time. Poor Sinistra had not had an easy time with Draco and there was no way Minerva was going to ask her to escort him anywhere else. Severus was both the best and worst choice available but he would have to do. There was however something Minerva didn't like. Why had Druscilla come in person? There was simply no obvious need for it.
"I did not mean me, I do not think I would be appropriate." Severus spoke harshly and unexpectedly.
Druscilla cleared her throat and looked unusually awkward as she turned to look up to where Severus was still standing, arms folded defensively across his chest. "I'm afraid you are more than appropriate. You are required."
Severus simply raised an eyebrow with what looked like pretty deadly intent but Druscilla was, as usual, not backing down. She shrugged. "I'm just the messenger, the lawyers have come through the Ministry because of the nature of events - and because we froze the Malfoy assets immediately after their deaths - but it is you they apparently wish to accompany him. Indeed they are insisting it is necessary."
Deeming it wise to end the conversation before Severus got arrested for assaulting a Ministry official, Minerva dismissed Druscilla quite clearly with a short, "He'll be there." Thank Merlin, the woman took the hint and left with little more than a perfunctory nod.
Severus waited until said Ministry official had fully retreated to spit out, "Oh will 'he'?"
Minerva felt that by this point in her life she could probably have taught even Druscilla Thornfield a thing or two about not backing down. "Yes. You will. Because you care for him and apparently this is what the lawyers, who are paid an undoubtedly vast sum of money to protect his interests, have deemed the best way to proceed. They would not have requested you for the sheer hell of it. There is clearly more to this and it is very likely in both your and Draco's interests to go and find out what that is. The kind of lawyers the Malfoys employ are not to be taken lightly."
Severus merely huffed and stormed out but it was clear to her that he understood and would go. Still, Minerva couldn't shake a feeling of unease about the whole situation and what specifically the Malfoy lawyers wanted with her friend.
XXXXXXX
Two days after he had last seen her, almost to the hour, Remus was walking in to a funeral with a slightly more mellow Dru. She'd actually looked pleased to see him and he was beginning to hope he'd simply caught her at a bad moment the other day. Bill Weasley's funeral however was hardly the place to ask her about it so he followed her quietly as she exchanged brief hellos with various people.
As he slipped into his seat at Druscilla's side, Remus saw Ron Weasley give a little wave from across the room. The boy looked tired and pale but still better than he had last time Remus had seen him. He suspected that the move back to Hogwarts had done Ron some good. The young Weasley might feel guilty about leaving his family but being back amongst his friends had returned a bit of life to his eyes, and doubtless done Harry a lot of good too. He and Hermione were sat either side of Ron. Harry smiled tightly over at Remus, looking a little awkward but determined to support his friend.
The rest of the Weasleys appeared variously tired and wan. Ginny was propped up between the twins, out of the house for the first time in months and looking exhausted and tearful. Molly, freshly released from St Mungo's, was still a little red, her head covered in a hat that hid the state of her partially burned hair. Even with the excellent treatment she'd received, it was going to be a few months before her hair was back to normal.
It was going to be much longer before anything else was. If normal was something you could in fact ever go back to after what they'd all been through.
Percy looked as perfectly turned out as he always was, but his face was almost the colour of his pristine white shirt and his eyes were surrounded by dark smudges that suggested sleep and rest were eluding him. Perhaps, Remus thought, Percy wasn't trying all that hard to seek them out.
Druscilla had given Remus a promise that she'd talk to Percy, offer him some time off, but if she had then Percy certainly didn't seem to have accepted. He was looking increasingly tired and unhappy each time Remus saw him, but also increasingly unlikely to stop and take any kind of a break. He wasn't convinced how much rest Percy's boss was getting either.
It felt like every time he'd seen her in the last week, Druscilla had been heading to, or just returned from, a funeral. It occurred to Remus he'd never seen her dressed all in black before. Druscilla liked colour, her wardrobe was a riot of jewel tones mingling with bright scarlets, deep greens, delicate lilacs, smoky greys, and she only seemed to use black as way to make the colours pop all the brighter. With her vivacious personality and wardrobe to match, along with the fact he often saw her amongst the sombre and conservative Ministry officials, he had become used to her being the brightest thing in any room she was in, radiating life and colour. This week was the first time he'd seen her dressed all in black, and it didn't suit her.
Druscilla's sombre robes were expensively and stylishly cut, the fit was one of timeless elegance, no danger of these dating and he suspected that had been the idea behind them. They looked like clothes well looked after and not much worn. Her physical comfort in them suggested enough familiarity that they probably hadn't been purchased recently, but their condition was almost pristine. They'd not been worn often or to do anything physically taxing. He had a sneaking suspicion that these were 'attending a funeral' robes and that they only saw the light of day at times like these. Though it was true the cut favoured her, the colour did not. She looked washed out, though that could simply have been the way she was feeling. Her movements lacked her usual energy and her eyes their mischievous spark.
Druscilla had made a point of attending each and every funeral, of expressing her sympathies personally to every grieving family, visiting every injured member of the Ministry. Remus had no idea if her motives were personal or political but from what he'd seen they did seem to have been appreciated by most. It was interesting to watch her, to see the display of empathy and kindness, the patience and diplomacy that she was capable of. It was, in a completely different way, also interesting to see how quickly that all seemed to dissipate when she wasn't in the public eye. With him she was alternately flirty and distant, leaving him unsure what to expect from one day to the next, as time wore on though it felt like distant was winning out.
Today though, at this funeral (one of the few Remus had attended himself), she was sticking, for the moment at least, firmly by his side. This was the one he had dreaded, having to watch his friends bury their eldest son. He glanced over to where Molly and Arthur were holding hands in the front row. In contrast to Molly's red and sore looking skin, Arthur was white as a sheet.
The only Weasley left dry eyed by the end of the service was Percy, who was sat beside his father looking almost bewildered. Druscilla was in danger of developing a severe crick in her neck trying to keep her eye on her young employee from across the room. "He'll be alright," Remus murmured quietly, "His family's with him."
Her brow wrinkled in unhappiness, "Where's Oliver?"
Despite the question not really being directed at him, Remus nodded at the opposite side of the room a few rows behind the Weasleys.
Druscilla sighed in what sounded like frustrated anger and, unable to understand what had upset her, Remus took her hand and squeezed it tightly, trying to offer support. She allowed him to hold it for a while but he had a feeling it had more to do with a lack of attention than her gaining any comfort from it. She took her hand away as they both stood up.
Remus had expected her to go and check on Percy once the traditional wake was in progress, but instead Druscilla urged him round the room and he got the impression she wanted to be on the move. He'd never before heard anyone use the term 'mingle' in the context of a funeral and, as she suggested it, it was all he could do not to laugh inappropriately.
As they passed various groups of people Druscilla nodded cordially to a young man, rather on the short side and probably around Bill's age. Remus recognised him from the Ministry as the man who'd provided an alternative (and indeed safer) placement for the young intern that Dru had used for target practice during her period of enforced decaffeination. (Remus still wasn't thrilled by that story and wondered if, by the friendly greeting she received in turn, it was possible the young man did not in fact know the full story of why he had had to take on her intern.)
Alongside Dru's Ministry colleague, stood close enough to him to suggest a partner rather than simply a friend, was a much taller man with the kind of good looks that wouldn't have been out of place in an adaptation of Wuthering Heights. Remus recognised the strong jaw and dark tousled curls from the photograph above his columns in the Daily Prophet sports section, but his face looked more ready to laugh than scowl and his supportive but never possessive hand on his partner's back suggested a softer personality than his scathing quidditch articles did. The two young men were talking to Charlie, and Remus assumed they'd all been at Hogwarts together as he caught a snatch of conversation from the dark haired sports writer.
"...still the only one to knock you off your broom then?"
Charlie nodded and managed a smile. Talking about Quidditch seemed to have been a good move on the other man's part as the redhead looked more comfortable than he had previously. "Unless we're counting dragons, Edmund, you still hold that distinction. You are the single most vicious Beater I have ever encountered!"
Edmund looked rather pleased with this accolade.
"I suppose they were at school with Bill and Charlie?" Remus asked Dru as they moved out of hearing.
"Yes they will have been. I think Tebrin - the short one who works at the Ministry," she clarified, "Was in Bill's year. So was Ed Quilter probably, he'll have known Charlie from the Quidditch pitch. He was a promising Beater before he had an 'accident' and switched from playing sport to writing about it." Remus had discovered quite quickly in their relationship that Dru was a fascinating font of information about all manner of people.
"Accident?" There was something in Druscilla's tone that raised Remus' curiosity.
She shook her head. "Don't know the details but he managed to get himself quite a lot of attention from the Aurors a few years back. Nothing too serious but got into a lot of duels, one of them he didn't emerge particularly victorious from. I think he had his shoulder pretty much rebuilt not long out of Hogwarts. Not good news for a Beater. Always thought he and Tebrin made quite the hilarious odd-couple."
"I think some people are saying that about us." Remus had noticed more than one sidelong glance from the people around them, especially those associated with the Ministry. Turning up with a werewolf on her arm was a provocative move even for someone like Druscilla.
She gave him a more genuine smile than she'd yet managed that day, "Well, they're not wrong. But opposites can work very well."
Remus' heart warmed for a moment before he realised she wasn't necessarily focussed on the two of them. He followed her distracted gaze not, as he had expected, to the pair talking with Charlie, but past them to where Oliver was approaching Percy with a cup of tea and an anxious look. Remus raised his eyebrows at her in question but for once she refused to be drawn.
"Never mind." She said briskly. "Anyway, I think I've shown my face for long enough, I'm going to go into the office for a few hours. Are you going to stay?"
Remus spotted Harry sat quietly in a corner looking low and nodded, "Yes, I'd like to talk to Harry. Dinner this evening?"
Druscilla kissed him quickly and perfunctorily. "Get a take away and come round to mine after 8, I've got a lot on this afternoon and I'm unlikely to be home much before then."
She was gone before he could respond, leaving him with the ghost of her lips on his cheek and the lingering notes of her perfume.
XXXXXXX
Escorting Draco Malfoy anywhere was just about the last thing Severus wanted to do at present. Draco was making no secret of his loathing and Severus found it hard to blame him under the circumstances. The only advantage this unexpected summons to the Malfoy lawyer had was slim at best, that was it had given him a good excuse to dodge the latest funeral. Not that he had so far attended any of them. Minerva however had suggested he might wish to attend Bill Weasley's before they had discovered the clash with the Malfoy lawyers.
Whilst he would willingly concede that, Percy aside, Bill had been the easiest of the Weasleys to teach, Severus couldn't claim to have been fond of him. Not that he'd have claimed to be fond of many people, especially those who had been his students. He glanced across at Draco, who was carefully ignoring him. Being fond of people came with distinct risks.
Draco had refused to speak to or even acknowledge Severus on the way to the lawyers. Minerva, perhaps searching for neutral ground, had had them floo from her own office before she'd headed off to the funeral. This might have worked better had Draco not been so thoroughly resentful of the Gryffindor head of house and of her house generally.
Upon arrival at the prestigious law offices Severus had instantly felt awkward. The building, the decor, the people, were in no sense opulent or gauche, yet a certain aura of wealth and power hung about. He had no illusions, the kind of people who hired these lawyers, and probably the lawyers themselves, could buy and sell him many times over and they knew it. He'd never been quite comfortable with people like this, the rich and well-established, the quietly entitled. People like the glowering boy beside him.
Draco looked almost at home, flopping into an armchair in the reception room and requesting a glass of water from the discrete, hospitable witch in an impeccable suit who Severus suspected acted as much more than a receptionist. Anyone acting undesirably in here wouldn't remain here for long.
They were a little early and were not ushered in to an oak-panelled office until on the dot of the appointed time. Likely the lawyer behind the desk had been available when they arrived but Severus wasn't surprised she'd made them wait, making clear the costliness of her time.
"Hello Draco." The greeting was less formal than Severus suspected it would have been had the woman not been dealing with a minor but she still extended a handshake to them both. Notably to Draco before Severus, there was a pecking order here and he might have been 'required' but that didn't mean he was wanted.
"Ms Hobhouse." The boy shook her hand with a respectful nod. His parents had at least instilled in him the importance and value of a good lawyer.
Severus had seen the woman before. Only a few years older than he was, a one time bright young thing who had delivered on her early promise in spades, she had been the Malfoy family lawyer for almost a decade. From what he'd gathered she was excellent at her job and exactly who you wanted on your side of a courtroom. He wasn't even certain that had Lucius survived she might not have been able to keep him out of Azkaban still.
XXXXXXX
In a move that on later examination he'd worry was manipulative enough that he might have picked it up from Dru, Remus had banked on the funeral and the fact Ron would be spending the night back at The Burrow to help Harry open up a little more.
Remus had taken the opportunity to escort Harry and Hermione back to school and been very grateful when Hermione had tactfully withdrawn saying she needed to go and change from her formal black skirt and blouse. It was an endearingly Muggle outfit and Remus had seen it raise a, slightly patronising, fond smile from Druscilla when she'd first spotted it. Hermione hadn't been in their world long enough yet to have had any reason to have acquired anything suitable for such a sombre occasion and had clearly, unlike Harry, not felt her school robes were appropriate.
Remus had quickly appropriated an empty office and conjured tea and chocolate, no intention of leaving until he'd made some progress.
Harry struggled out his black school robes, revealing a distinctive Weasley jumper, and stuffed them under his arm. Remus instinctively took them off him and folded them. He noticed Harry had replaced his glasses with an almost identical pair.
It had taken what felt like an awfully long time to reach this point, with Harry willing to sit down with him. Harry, though pleased to see Remus when he'd returned after that first awful visit in the Hogwarts hospital wing, had been quiet, reserved, and simmering with anger that Remus had not been able to get him to talk about. It was all very well for Dru to say "talk to him", Remus had been talking to him, but Remus was doing almost all of the talking. Harry hadn't been ready to talk himself and that was what Remus had been patiently waiting for.
Slowly, haltingly, over more tea and chocolate than Remus would have thought possible, Harry poured out the whole story. The fear, the pain and anger that made up the parts the Aurors had never heard. Remus sat silently from first to last allowing Harry to, unprompted, speak at will, hesitate, recover himself, rant, and generally exorcise himself of all the bottled up experiences of his weeks in captivity. The details of what the young man had endured left Remus with a desperately aching head and heart. It was what had broken him though, which the telling of looked likely to break him all over again, that cut Remus right to the heart.
The brief glimpse of Sirius at the railway station, and the feeling that had accompanied it that Remus would do anything to make it real, made the nature of Voldemort's threats and the cruel manipulation of Harry's feelings painfully understandable.
"I told him everything I knew, everything I'd ever surmised about the Order, about Dumbledore. And he meant me to, Dumbledore meant me too, that's why he always kept his distance from me, didn't want to tell me things! I couldn't handle it and he knew I wouldn't be able to. I thought he trusted me."
"He did trust you, Harry. The only person either I or Dumbledore have ever known who could withstand interrogation from Voldemort is Severus and the price of being able to do that has left him alone, isolated and bitter - it is not a price any of us would have considered it worth you paying."
"I betrayed all of you, I knew he didn't have Ron but..."
"But you couldn't take the chance that he did."
"I don't even know why you're trying to help me, I betrayed you just like Peter did!" Harry looked so lost and distraught that Remus' good intentions of being quiet and gentle flew out the window.
"You are nothing like him!" Remus insisted, barely holding back his own anger at everything Harry had been through. "He sold out his friends to save his own skin and then instead of trying to put things right hid as a rat until he again felt threatened enough to spring into action against those who'd sheltered him!"
Shouting had been a poor choice as Harry simply raised his own voice in turn. "And I sold everyone out over a threat I knew likely wasn't possible. What does that say about me?!"
Remus took a deep breath and carefully collected himself before speaking. "That your friends' courage and loyalty in coming after you, even into a battle with people bent on killing them, was well repaid. That their devotion to you is matched by your devotion to them."
Harry sat quietly for a moment. "You're not angry with me." It sounded like he was maybe beginning to believe it.
Remus squeezed his arm, "No one's angry with you."
"I'm angry with me."
"Alright, no one but you is angry with you." Remus paused and tried to smile a little, "And likely Severus, but he's always angry."
Harry gave a weak snort of amusement.
"That's better." Remus gave a gentle smile. "Your mum and dad wanted more than anything to keep you safe, and they would be so proud of your ability to survive that you have shown again and again in the last few years. They'd be proud of the resilient and loyal young man you've grown into. In truth I think James would have done exactly what you did had he thought Sirius was in danger and he could possibly save him."
Harry was quiet for a moment and Remus worried that by mentioning his parents he might just have upset him further. Harry however looked at him with a very serious and very mature expression. "I'm sure not just Sirius." He smiled, "I reckon Dad must have thought a lot of you, and I'm sure both he and my mum would have been really grateful for the way you've tried to look out for me. I am."
And suddenly Remus was the one who was upset. He struggled for words and settled for squeezing Harry's arm again. "Anything you need. Anything at all, at any time, please never hesitate to ask me."
Harry nodded and for the first time Remus had some confidence that in the face of trouble he might actually ask for help. Maybe. After all he was still James Potter's son.
XXXXXXX
Severus didn't know what to say. He'd been internally eye rolling for quite some time at the full extent of listed Malfoy wealth and property, and had been hard-pressed not to snort at the various charitable bequests Narcissa and Lucius had made. Then however the subject had moved to the Malfoys' most important asset and the lawyer's words had silenced both of the Slytherins. Draco looked horrified and Severus wasn't completely sure that he wasn't wearing a similar expression himself.
The lawyer passed Severus a sealed envelope. "There is a letter for you here which I was told explains the situation. I have not, of course, read it." That sounded more like a disclaimer than an assurance of her discretion.
The letter was in Narcissa's elegant cursive and favourite violet ink. He'd exchanged very few letters with her over the years, but it was still instantly familiar.
Dear Severus,
Given that this will hopefully never be read, and that in the only circumstances that it will I shall have been proved right, I feel entirely justified in saying that I am quite sure that whatever turns events take you will somehow survive with your wits and your freedom intact. Lucius once described you as slippery and I cannot disagree, indeed I should like to see the person that could take you down. I would never have said this to you, but you always scared me a little. A strange thing perhaps to say to someone you are willingly entrusting with the only thing now left in the world which matters, but I (and indeed Lucius) have no doubts about this. Protect him, help him, guide him, and tell him we love him. I meant to write more than this, to explain our decision and instruct for the future, but I find I cannot. I have used 'I' throughout, but these words come from Lucius too. We are, as we always have been, of one mind.
I feel I never knew you well enough for the usual endearments one ends letters with. I suppose all there is to say is that Lucius and I are entrusting you with that which matters most to us, we can pay you no higher compliment.
Narcissa Malfoy
Sweet Merlin, what the hell had been wrong with these people! And why, even in death, could the two of them not speak plainly? The way the letter was phrased, had they suspected he was not all he had seemed? Severus stared down at the heavy, expensive parchment like it might hold more answers. It did not of course, Narcissa never had been particularly forthcoming with answers he actually wanted.
Draco had, naturally, been attempting to read over his shoulder, proving as usual that money did not buy manners. "That's my mother's handwriting, give it to me!" He held out his hand, looking ready to snatch the parchment if denied.
Severus would never have considered denying him this. "Of course." He passed the boy the letter.
Draco read it quickly, greedily, devouring it like a starving man. There was a long moment of silence as he stared at the piece of parchment in his hands before he thrust it back at Severus.
The Potions Master had expected further anger, more vicious remarks, but what emerged when the boy opened his mouth was more of a strangled sob than anything else.
Politely, Ms Hobhouse had pretended not to notice the exchange, busying herself with the pile of scrolls related to the Malfoy estate. Severus saw though that she was keeping a sharp eye on the pair of them from under her perfectly styled fringe. She waited while Draco recovered himself, refilling his water glass with no more than a subtle flick of her hand when he wasn't looking.
Once Draco was sat back in his chair, very white and gripping the water hard enough that had the glass not been of a heavy crystal Severus was quite sure it would have broken, Ms Hobhouse spoke. This time to Severus. "We would like to speak with our client."
That, he assumed, would be the royal 'we'. It was as clear a dismissal as she could politely give, but he wasn't interested in being polite.
"Your 'client' is under my guardianship, both as a Hogwarts representative and apparently as per his parents' wishes." He might not have a legal education to match this woman's but he was damned sure she couldn't conduct a meeting with a non-emancipated minor without some form of guardian figure present if he raised an objection. Draco luckily was too busy trying not to cry to speak further, he could only imagine that the boy's comments would be far from helpful.
Instead of being angry the woman seemed to rather enjoy being defied and gave him a pleased smile. "Very well." She continued to address Draco however. "Your family's account will remain with us, transferred to your name, with no need for you to do anything if you are happy for us to continue representing you. If you wish to seek other representation I can give you some advice, but I'll be honest," she smiled, "I would obviously first of all recommend you remain with us. The Malfoys have been valued clients of ours for many generations now."
Draco shook his head, "I don't care. Just deal with things." Upon the woman raising an eyebrow, he actually added, "Please."
The magic word brought a smile back to her face. "We would be pleased to. We will send out the full details by owl and should you wish to have anything explained or altered in any way I shall always be happy to speak with you in person at no extra charge on the account. I would suggest however that now is not the time for you to be wrestling with legal details." Her smile had turned soft and either she really did have sympathy for Draco or she faked it too well for Severus to tell.
The boy nodded. "Thank you. Is that all for today?"
"Unless you have any further questions?" She looked back to Severus briefly, "Either of you?"
Draco shook his head.
"No," Severus was also keen to be gone. "Thank you."
Draco stalked out first and Severus found the woman's hand on his arm holding him back. "You will also receive more full legal and technical details and advice by owl. And if you have any questions or concerns you are also free to contact me at any time, I am here to help."
He nodded at her and hurried after the young Malfoy.
XXXXXXX
At eight o'clock on the dot Remus was once more negotiating Druscilla's enchanted door knocker. It let him in as quickly as it had the first time and he found himself feeling oddly relieved.
Druscilla herself was still in the black funeral robes, poring over paperwork at an old-fashioned roll top desk that he'd not noticed previously. It was tucked in a corner, with her facing the wall, and he had to speak to her before she noticed he'd arrived.
"Oh, hello." She sounded a bit surprised but smiled at the sight of the bag in his hands. "Ooh, do I smell Chinese food?"
"It's from the place you said you liked."
"Oh good, I've hardly eaten all day! I don't know why no one ever thinks people will want food at funerals, they always make me hungry."
As usual, her mildly inappropriate ways amused him and he smiled warmly. "I'll find us some plates then." He was beginning to think he might be more familiar with her kitchen than she was. He still hadn't worked out what she lived on though, there was never any real food to be found.
Druscilla was quiet over dinner and Remus tried to supply the missing conversation but found she was back to being distant and difficult to engage. He suspected that whatever she'd been so absorbed in when he'd arrived was the cause of it. The Ministry occupied more of her thoughts than ever at present.
He found himself pouring out his encounter with Harry, carefully leaving out the details he'd been entrusted with and instead allowing himself to admit just how badly it had all affected him. The chance to talk things over with someone was an indulgence he'd missed since Sirius had died. "He said he was sure James and Lily had thought a lot of me and would have been very grateful because I'd tried to help him." Remus was too overwhelmed to say any more.
"Well, of course."
"I..." Having struggled to recount his meeting with Harry while keeping the emotion out of his voice, Remus was a little shocked by Druscilla's offhand response.
She laughed at him a little. "Oh come on, who could not adore you? You're very adorable!" She patted his cheek, all levity and dismissive attitude. If she could tell how much the meeting with Harry had shaken him, she wasn't showing it.
Remus forced a smile. There had been nothing in the way Druscilla had spoken to suggest that she adored him. Indeed he'd never for a moment been foolish enough to think she might. Lack of expectations though, as he'd learnt so many times before, couldn't save him the pain of rejection and abruptly Remus realised he would rather be just about anywhere else. "I should head home," he managed to keep smiling as he took his dirty plate into the kitchen. "It's late."
Druscilla looked a little surprised but nothing approaching any kind of distress. Perhaps, at a reach, he could describe her face as puzzled, but that was all. Him leaving wasn't really affecting her. "Ok. You're probably right, I do have another early start, trust you to be considerate."
It was all he could do not to snap that he wasn't being considerate, that her early morning wasn't something he'd known about because she just didn't seem to talk to him anymore. Had she ever? He suddenly couldn't remember, maybe it had all just been that light-hearted flirtation, surface tension with nothing underneath. Still when she made a half-hearted suggestion that they have dinner in a few days, he couldn't bring himself to say anything but 'yes'.
XXXXXXX
Draco had been as silent on the way back to Hogwarts as he had been when they'd left it. As soon as they reached the school he was off swiftly without a word.
Severus sighed, sooner or later they were going to have to talk about this. Probably later would be better though. Once he'd received whatever advice the lawyers were sending, and once he'd sufficiently recovered himself to have any idea how to respond to this latest twist in his always complicated relationship with the Malfoy family.
Minerva was still dressed in black when she joined him in his office, clearly annoyed that he hadn't come to dinner. He gathered from what she was saying that Draco hadn't attended either.
"How did it go?" she repeated her original question after receiving no answer but a gesture to help herself to a chair. "Is everything alright? I take it the Ministry have agreed to unfreeze his family's assets?"
"Yes." Severus hardly knew what to say. "Though he can't access much of the money, or do anything significant with the Estate, until he's older."
Minerva nodded approvingly. "Well, that's to be expected. Lucius may have been profligate himself much of the time but Narcissa seemed sensible enough to have ensured that much at least."
"Yes." He agreed, though silently added that Narcissa's sense was apparently even more questionable than he would have believed.
Minerva of course picked up that something was troubling him beyond having been forced to spend the day with a grieving boy who hated him. "Severus, what's the matter? What's happened? Is Draco alright?"
"I think the answer to that can be considered to be a resounding 'no' for the foreseeable future under the circumstances," he sneered, beginning to hope he could just make her leave and take her damned concern where it might be wanted.
Minerva took a visible calming breath and Severus suddenly noticed how tired she looked. She'd not had a wonderful day either, as the black robes attested, and here she was trying to help while all he could do was make snide remarks. Before she could say anything else he hurried out, "Lucius and Narcissa made me his legal guardian should anything happen to them."
After that Minerva didn't look like she knew what on earth to say.
"Yes," Severus agreed with her expression, "That is very much how I, and I think Draco, felt." He passed her the letter from Narcissa Malfoy that was still in his hand.
The witch read it quickly, looking up at him once she'd done with an expression of resigned horror. "Well," she huffed out, "That's..."
"A delightful new problem?" Severus finished for her.
"It could be an opportunity. You can't avoid each other forever. Severus, I know he's hurting but you've kept faith with him until now. How many times have you argued with myself and Albus that he didn't have to follow his parents' path? There's plenty of time for him to change his views and understand why you did what you did."
"Changing his views is one thing, forgiving me for my role in his parents' death is rather something else don't you think?"
"I think it's too soon to give up. Apparently his parents thought you could do this."
"They hadn't got a bloody clue about anything!" he snarled, losing patience and tired of the optimism he couldn't share.
Minerva frowned pensively. "From that letter, I'm not so sure...it sounds bizarrely like they might have been hedging their bets." She snorted, "Which would be very like what I remember of both of them."
Severus exploded suddenly, not really listening to his friend anymore but airing the utter disgusted indignation he'd been trying to contain since the moment he'd opened the letter. "How dare they! That thoughtless, heartless letter!"
"I didn't seem either to me." Minerva replied with a careful calmness that brought him back to himself.
In a quieter, if no less bitter tone, Severus argued, "If she meant two words of it she'd have never placed herself in the danger she did, she'd have gone home and her son wouldn't be facing life alone!"
"He's not alone. I think the letter was her way of ensuring that."
"Manipulative bitch."
It was clear Minerva wasn't convinced by his sentiment and he wasn't even sure himself if it matched how he felt.
"I think you need some sleep." She looked stern but her tone was kinder than he felt he currently deserved. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. We have both had a long day." She left without another word and he refused to respond.
Severus leaned back in his chair behind the desk he'd been careful to keep between him and Minerva throughout the exchange. The letter was still crumpled in his hand, like he couldn't let it go. The violet ink was starting to smear and some had transferred onto his skin. The ink that had been so instantly recognisable, Narcissa's own little signature style.
If he were to be completely honest, never something he enjoyed, he'd have to admit he'd miss her. Something about her vulnerability when Lucius was in Azkaban, about what he'd been forced to do to her to cover up his own actions, had left a strong desire to keep her safe. He'd known what he was leaving her to when he'd walked away from their last conversation and, illogically, he now felt guilty. Like it was not really her fault that Draco was alone, but his.
In truth it might be both their faults. Not to mention Lucius' fault, but he wasn't ready to tangle with his deeply muddled feelings regarding his old friend who he'd often have happily killed himself, only to feel an intense sense of loss when someone else did it. He had a sinking feeling Minerva realised just about all of this and he could only imagine what she must think of him for it.
XXXXXXX
One more funeral, at least Kingsleys was hopefully the last. At least for a while. Please god let it be the last, Remus thought.
Druscilla, already dressed, was sipping a large black coffee, so hot that he could see the steam rising.
He'd spent the night at her flat, bringing with him his, embarrassingly faded, black robes. They were less formal than they should have been but new formal robes were an expense Remus simply couldn't afford. He'd compensated with a smart white shirt, old but well cared for, and a black tie he'd picked up for very little in a Muggle shop. He'd worn Muggle clothes a lot in his life but this morning his fingers were not cooperating and he'd tied and retied the tie several times without making much of a success of it.
Druscilla had watched with seeming disbelief that anyone could make such a meal out of getting dressed and the longer she watched the worse his efforts got.
"Oh, give it here!" she finally put down her coffee and snatched the tie off him in frustration, but instead of resettling it around his neck she proceeded to tie it loosely and expertly about her own. Once she was satisfied with the knot she lifted it carefully over her head and then back over his, tightening and settling the knot at his throat. Finally content with how it sat she met his eyes with a small smile as she adjusted his collar. "I never learnt how to tie one on somebody else."
He lifted his hand to the perfectly knotted tie, feeling a level of intimacy in her move that he suspected she hadn't intended. He liked that he was wearing something that mere moments before had graced her. It felt more intimate than anything they'd done the previous night. "Thank you."
She shrugged and made to move away, "Steady hands."
They weren't though, her hands had an almost unnoticeable tremor as he clasped them in his own.
"Don't." Her voice had turned harsh.
He frowned in confusion. "Don't what?"
She pulled her hands free. "Don't be kind. It's not what I need right now."
Still confused, he let her step away, watching in silence as she reclaimed her coffee and crossed over to the window with a scowl.
"The sun shouldn't be shining." Her voice sounded almost petulant.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said the sun shouldn't be shining. I hate sunny funerals. It rained for all the others, why couldn't it rain for him." There was a suspicious hitch in her breathing and as she turned back she looked on the brink of tears and/or nervous collapse.
"Dru!"
She threw up her hands to repel him as he moved towards her. "I'm fine."
Lost, he stopped a few feet away from her. "You don't have to do this." He wasn't sure if he meant the funeral or her determination to reject any show of support.
"Don't be silly," she adopted a no-nonsense tone of the type he recalled his mother using when she was upset, "I'm giving the eulogy."
"You are?" She'd not mentioned it before. "But the family..."
"Angelique's too upset. Asked me. I had to write it too. Considered asking Percy to help but...well...didn't seem right."
"No." Remus knew Druscilla and Kingsley had worked together for a long time but he'd taken their somewhat competitive dynamic to be a sign that they weren't personally all that close. He was beginning to think he had been wrong.
XXXXXXX
As if the Ministry had been in one final effort to clash with the Headmaster, Kingsley's funeral had been scheduled for the same day Hogwarts had chosen to celebrate the life of Albus Dumbledore. In accordance with the Headmaster's wishes, there'd been no funeral just a quick and private internment near his childhood home. Remus knew that not even many of the Hogwarts staff had attended, their focus instead had been on marking the day at the school. Students had been given the day free from lessons with a huge feast scheduled for the evening.
Remus had assumed that Druscilla would attend the feast with him like many of the other Order members, but she made it quite clear after Kingsley's funeral that she was going home.
The day had so far been just as awful as Remus had anticipated. The sight of Kingsley's two perfectly turned out little girls in their pink dresses holding onto their mother's hands had raised a lump in his throat he'd been unprepared for. The whole Ministry of Magic seemed to have turned out and the occasion had a more sombre and formal feel to it than Bill's had.
Druscilla was flawless. Her eulogy was delivered with an unfaltering voice and with a tone-perfect eloquence not even her most severe of detractors could have objected to. She spent a good deal of time afterwards talking to Angelique, Kingsley's wife, her empathy palpable and sincere. She hugged Kingsley's daughters, slipping sweets into their little hands and upending neatly Remus' assumption that she was hardly likely to be fond of children.
After though, as he walked her home and took her hand, the cracks in Druscilla's armour started to look more like fissures breaking open in front of him. She allowed him to hold her hand for only a moment before snatching it away, an almost resentful look replacing the comfort that had briefly crossed her face. Nothing he could say though could make her concede there was any kind of problem. She insisted he go to Hogwarts and pleaded tiredness as her excuse for not joining him. In the end she clearly tired of his protestations and walked off with a decidedly vicious:
"The old man never liked me, why would I want to celebrate him on today of all days."
Remus left her with a heavy heart and attended the feast alone, sitting at the specially extended staff table. Being back there, next to a deeply unhappy Severus, watching Harry pick at his food and the teachers struggle to carry out the 'celebration' that Albus had preferred to a funeral, was torment. Not least because he couldn't stop worrying about Druscilla. He had no idea if she wanted him about or not, the mixed messages were by this point impossible to make sense of, but he felt certain that someone should be with her.
It was this certainty that led him to ignoring his impulse to see Harry for more than a brief moment after the feast and instead to go and seek Druscilla out at home.
XXXXXXX
It was a fight the common room had been waiting days for and that it should happen after a day spent in mourning for a man most of them had complicated feelings for at best was perhaps unsurprising. What had started it precisely wasn't clear but the Slytherins looked on, caught somewhere between awkward discomfort and blatant prying curiosity, as the 'discussion' by the fire went from frenzied whispers to raised voices that both contained a hint of 'keep pushing and it'll be my pleasure to pack you off to the hospital wing'.
"I was just trying to help!" Pansy snapped in response to something the watchers hadn't been able to catch from Draco. His expression though told them that, as usual for him, it had not been pleasant.
"Help! What the hell do you think you could do!" he sneered.
She softened just a fraction, Pansy's own acid tongue had always seemed softer around Draco. "I don't know, but I can tell you that your current behaviour is making things worse, that fighting with people and plotting revenge is going to get you in the kind of trouble no one can get you out of!"
It might have been the reference to the fact his parents were no longer able to help him, or it might have been the fact she was to an extent airing his dirty laundry in public, but almost everyone in the room recoiled at the expression on Draco's face. Crabbe and Goyle may have rather obviously lost interest in acting as his hired muscle but the rumours of what Draco's father may or may not have taught him left everyone but Pansy still a little wary of him when his temper snapped.
"I am sick of you, sick of your hangdog expression when you think no one's looking, sick of your platitudes, and I don't need your help!"
He'd got her covered with his wand at pretty dizzying speed, but Pansy never flinched. "My parents are both facing life sentences in Azkaban but you keep telling yourself you're the only one who lost anything! Typical of you isn't it? You're so flaming self centred!" She'd drawn her own wand now and discrete sums of money were beginning to change hands amongst those speculating on the outcome should it come to a full on duel.
At least one of the onlookers though had no interest in watching it reach that particular outcome. "Enough! Enough!" The exhausted, frustrated tones of one of the seventh year prefects cut through as she physically grabbed both of the offender's wands.
Draco and Pansy both let go in sheer surprise at the rather foolish tactic. In the rest of the common room's assessment it could just as easily have been a purposeful gesture designed to shock the pair into silence or a serious lapse in judgement that could have as easily ended in disaster. Whichever it was, their prefect looked like she hadn't slept in a week and wasn't taking any prisoners. "Bed! Both of you! Now! In fact the rest of you can damn well follow suit!"
Her fellow prefect, a tall boy who'd barely talked to her or anyone else all year after walking out on his family, moved to stand behind her in silent support. It was the first united front the two prefects had managed all year and suddenly nobody wanted to argue with the pair of them. Even Draco Malfoy simply looked murderous as he snatched his wand back and stormed away.
Pansy Parkinson snorted and tossed her head, accepting the return of her wand with a poor grace. "Your hair looks a right state, Isabelle," she commented bitchily as she too flounced off.
The prefect threw the book she'd been reading across the room, narrowly missing the fireplace, and glared round at the rest of the silently gawping Slytherin House. "What are you waiting for? GO. TO. BED!"
The house was not inclined to quarrel with anyone who had that look in their eye. After all if wasn't like anyone wanted to end up dealing with Snape.
XXXXXXX
The by now familiar front door let Remus in to a dark and seemingly empty flat. He lit a lamp and saw Druscilla's pristine, expensive black robes discarded in a corner, crumpled and uncared for. Remus picked them up, shook them out and draped them neatly over the back of a chair.
He could hear the shower running and called out not wanting to startle her. "Dru?"
"In here." A tired voice, with a defeated tone he'd never expected to hear from her, floated through the bathroom door.
Concerned, he tried the handle and found it unlocked. He supposed when you lived alone there was little reason to lock the door when bathing.
Though the shower was on however Dru didn't exactly appear to be bathing. She was curled on the floor of the large shower cubicle, water cascading down over her, hair soaked and plastered over half her face. An empty bottle of tequila lay on its side on the floor.
"What on earth are you doing?" Remus couldn't hold back the shocked and concerned enquiry.
"Having a shower." She muttered, barely audible.
"Sat on the floor." He stated. Though 'sat' was a bit of stretch, it looked more like she'd just sunk down and collapsed.
"I'm too tired to stand."
His heart ached at the tone in her voice, the lack of all her usual liveliness and zest. "You sound it," he said gently. Feeling a little awkward under the circumstance but not prepared to leave her in this state he asked, "Can I come in?"
She finally looked up at him. "Of course you bloody can," she mumbled. "Idiot. Shut the door after you."
He did as he was told, removing his cloak and hanging it on the back of the door. He turned to find her watching him.
"You stopping at that?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Well you're going to look awfully silly showering in your clothes."
He smiled slowly, amused by her grumpy tone. "I'm showering am I?"
She hauled herself to her feet, clearly unabashed by her nude state in a way he felt had nothing to do with the alcohol. He'd not done envying her confidence though before he was hit with, "I don't want to be alone." The misery in her voice turned quickly to frustration. "Actually I just don't want to be without you. And I sort of hate you for that."
For all her blunt honesty he was sure that only the alcohol would have induced her to say that out loud. "I've been beginning to work that out," he replied quietly, not looking at her while he removed his clothes.
She didn't respond, but she did open the shower door wide in invitation as he approached. She turned away from him though as he stepped in.
Unsure what to say Remus settled for slipping his arms around her and drawing her close.
She sighed and her head fell back against his shoulder, some of the tension leaving her body. "I'm never going to be easy you know."
He chuckled wryly, "I never imagined you would be."
Even as she allowed herself to be held though he couldn't help but feel that even in his arms she still felt so very far away.
XXXXXXX
A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, I think I've about firmed up where the rest of this is going now and hopefully that'll help me post quicker! I'd love it if you dropped me a review to tell me if you enjoyed it. :)