QLFC Daily Prophet Practice Prompt: Celebrating Good Times
Beater 1 for Falmouth Falcons
Main Prompt: Celebrate new job
Optional Prompts : Malfoy Manor (setting), friendship (genre), cigar (item)
Word Count : 1,904
Draco Malfoy landed outside the front gates of Malfoy Manor and stared at the massive residence inside the wards. Draco hadn't laid eyes on his ancestral home in six months, more accustomed to staring at the blank stone wall of his small cell than anything else at this point. Now he stared at an old cell of a different kind, one with societal chains rather than iron ones.
"Home," he scoffed, the word like bile in his mouth. He'd stopped thinking of the manor as his home the moment his father opened their doors to the Dark Lord and effectively ruined both Draco's life and the Malfoy name. As far as he was concerned, he was glaring at a monument to his family's failure rather than his childhood home.
He wasn't sure why he chose to arrive outside the gates, nor how long he stood there for. He wasn't even sure how long he would've stayed out there, motionless and empty, had it not started raining. He ignored the first few drops, but as they became more frequent and faster, he pushed open the large iron gate and began his walk up the hill. Each step closer felt heavier, a gallows march from Azkaban to Malfoy Manor.
As his hand touched the knob, the soaking wizard took a deep breath and steeled himself. Draco could've appeared directly into Malfoy Manor, but he didn't. He could've told his mother or his friends that he'd been released early from his Azkaban sentence so they'd be there to greet him. He could've appealed his case again months ago to avoid prison time all together. Like in much of his short life, Draco Malfoy could've made a lot of better choices. But he didn't.
When Draco walked through the door, he waved off the handful of hovering house elves with a sneer. The only noise in the empty house was the crack of apparition as they returned to their quarters. After a quick drying spell, he headed straight to the sitting room, where his father kept the good firewhiskey.
"Or did when he was alive," Draco bitterly mused to himself. "I am long overdue for a stiff drink."
As he walked the familiar path, a light from the end of the hall caught his eye. Someone had a fire going in the sitting room. Draco stopped short, anxiety rising at the anomaly. No one was meant to be here. His mother was still in Paris, insisting the reason she hadn't returned home was due to the disagreeable English weather. He planned to floo call her tomorrow to inform her of his return, allowing himself a night of quiet first.
Draco drew his wand, wordlessly silencing his feet before approaching the room. Peeking around the doorframe, he spotted a male figure in front of the fire, his back to the door. He quickly crept, able to see the man had shaggy brown hair and nice dress robes on.
"Who are you?" Draco snarled, his wand digging into the lower back of the man.
"Is that any way to greet your oldest friend?" A familiar voice asked lightly, not sounding surprised at the weapon trained on him.
"Theo?" Draco lowered his wand. "What are you doing here?"
Theo Nott turned around and enveloped Draco in a hug. The reserved man started at the sudden contact, having not touched another person in months, save the prison's Healer. When Theo didn't let go, Draco let himself relax into his friend, hugging him back.
"It really took prison time for you to get comfortable hugging someone else like that?" Theo laughed as he broke away, his eyes crinkling. Draco studied his friend, thinking of how different he looked than when he last saw him six months ago. Theo had been trying not to cry as he watched Draco get escorted away after fulfilling the first terms of his punishment: finishing his final year at Hogwarts.
"Why, I'm celebrating, of course." Draco narrowed his eyes at the flippant statement.
"I told you that I didn't want a party whenever I was released."
"Well good thing that this is neither a party nor is it a celebration for being released." Theo walked to the bar cart and replenished his drink. "Firewhiskey?" He glared at Theo for a moment before giving a sharp nod.
"Well, what is it then?" Draco asked as the lanky wizard poured the drink.
"Customarily one celebrates a friend when said friend gets a new job."
"A new job?" Draco echoed, confused.
"Yes, your new job. Azkahban didn't damage your memory, did it?" Theo raised a dark eyebrow. "I believe you start at the Ministry next week, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"How did you -" Draco cut himself off, knowing Theo wouldn't tell him how he'd acquired that information. "That's not a job, Theo." He tipped his glass back, draining the amber contents.
"Oh? Are you not employed by the Ministry? Are you not showing up for eight hours a day, five days a week? Are you not getting paid for your work?"
"You know what I mean." Draco stared at his empty glass, aware of the self-satisfied smile Theo would be wearing. "This….this assignment is no career. It's a punishment," Draco spat. "Those Ministry pricks decided to force a Death Eater to spend the next three years of his life saving house elves. It is absolutely humiliating and they d-"
"Former," Theo interrupted, his voice sharp.
"Pardon?"
"Former Death Eater," Theo said, leveling a pointed look at Draco. "You've got a new title now. Assistant to the House Elves Matters Manager." Draco bristled at the job title.
"You know a title within the Ministry doesn't matter. It doesn't erase all the bad I've done. It doesn't erase this," Draco said as he pulled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark, while faded, still marred Draco's forearm. "I'll be the former child Death Eater to everyone." He quickly covered the tattoo back up. "Besides, do you even know who the House Elves Matters Manager is? Hermione bloody Granger. I'll be reporting to Hermione Granger as some sort of extra twist to my punishment. I'm sure Potter had a hand in it."
Theo chewed the inside of his cheek, but said nothing. Draco knew him long enough to know he ate a sarcastic comment. He waited, as Theo had a history of being unable to keep that type of commentary in.
"Do you remember that night?" Theo's expression darkened as he spoke, surprising Draco. He knew immediately which night the wizard was referencing; a night the summer before third year. He'd flooed to Nott Manor to spend the night, planning to debate about quidditch players and discuss which witches they thought were best looking in their grade, only to find Theo's father drunkenly choking Theo to death in a rage. Without thinking, Draco attacked him, stunning and knocking him out. Once he'd calmed Theo down, the pair obliviated the wizard. Draco didn't ask what had started the fight; they both knew whatever had sparked the confrontation was hardly the reason Mr. Nott had turned violent.
This was the first time that they'd revisited this night, at least aloud. "What did you tell me? Do you remember, Draco?" Theo's usually boisterous and light voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible. He exhaled, steading himself as the memories bubbled up.
"I told you that it didn't matter," whispered Draco. "That I'd be with you every step of the way."
"Well now it's my turn to say that to you," Theo said. "I owe you a life debt. The least I can do is make you stop sulking and embrace this opportunity." Draco scoffed, prompting an annoyed glare from Theo. "Don't do that. You have an opportunity here Draco. You were right when you said the title alone doesn't erase what you've done or who you were. But the work you do, the way you present yourself, that can help you make up for the past and allow you to rebuild the Malfoy name.
Draco sat back, turning Theo's words over in his head. Since his hearing where they assigned this punishment, he'd only felt anger. Anger at the Ministry, at his new boss, at Voldemort, at his father. But mostly at his own choices. The last sixth months had been a masterclass in self-loathing. Alone in his cell, Draco felt his humanity chip away even further each day. He'd never considered that when he'd rejoined society, he could actually regain that humanity and do something positive.
"Fancy a cigar?" Theo asked as he held up two wrapped cigars. Draco took one readily, wandlessly lighting it. The men silently puffed as they stared into the fire.
"Out of curiosity, what would you have done with the wand?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, and Theo sighed. "Earlier. When you threatened my life thinking I was an intruder. You've got a trace on your wand, don't you?"
"For six months."
"Right, so what would you have done? Killed me?"
"I'm not sure," Draco lied softly, knowing it was yet another choice he knew he would've been on the wrong side of.
"Right." Theo didn't sound as though he believed him, but he left it there. The silence stretched between the two men.
"These taste different," Draco said after a few minutes puffing away. "Eartheir than the usual kind."
"They are muggle. Still like them, right?" Draco's mouth twisted into a sneer at the insinuation. "I'm joking, Draco. You're not him, don't worry." For his words of comfort, Theo now looked worried that he'd upset the delicate balance they both knew they stood on. "I've been indulging with these more often. Part of Zabini's new import, he's testing them out in both the UK and Italian locations."
"Zabini isn't hiding somewhere, is he?" Draco looked back at the door behind them, half expecting Zabini to slowly saunter up, that smug look fixed on his face.
"No, he had a client meeting in New York he couldn't move," Theo replied. "But he did want to be here."
"No, it is good that he isn't. I can only take so much right now. I don't want to spend my first night of freedom listening to his sexual adventures."
"We have card night scheduled on Thursdays. Me, Zabini, Parkinson and her boyfriend, all at my place. You'll come for that and put up with his stories with the rest of us."
"Fine." Draco outwardly grimaced, but felt an overwhelming calm he hadn't since before the war. Tonight felt more normal than his life had in years. Perhaps, Theo was right to want to make a fresh start. This could be a chance for normalcy, but it was more than that; for the first time in his adult life Draco felt like he was making the right choice.
"So, can you agree that we are celebrating now?"
"As long as this is all your plan entails," Draco said as he swirled his drink. Theo gave a wry grin in response.
"Anything you want, Malfoy."
"I choose just this. Thanks, Nott." Theo held up his glass, and Draco begrudgingly followed suit and clinked their glasses.
"Cheers to the House Elves Matters Manager," Theo said before taking a swig.
"Cheers," Draco mumbled, though now he struggled to keep a smile off his face. "It is good to be home."
