Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
"Draco." Max's voice floated from behind the man. Draco hummed an acknowledgment his eyes not straying from his task. He had a tent-like cloth levitated and with an uttered sticking charm it hung from the ceiling.
It was an idea he had last time they'd all slept in the living room before Thomas, Jasmine, and Macy had left. No matter the number of blankets and pillows that covered the floor it was no replacement for a real bed. Draco's back couldn't stand another night on that floor.
So, he selected an empty room closest to the center of the manor. The room had already been stripped of all its furnishing and re-painted by Draco a few months back. He had originally planned it to be an office space, but this was the more urgent need.
He had already ordered the padding that was going to line the entire floor. The woman at the story had assured him that the padding would be filled with only the best and most comfortable material, foam. It would be the best sleep he's ever had or his galleon back, so she claimed. The low hanging lights laid scattered in the room waiting for their placement.
"How can I assist you, Max?" Draco said, cutting off the charm once the sheet was secured and turned to the boy. Max stood in the doorway fiddling with the camera that hung from his neck.
"Can you help me choose my pictures?" He asked, a shy smile on his lips. Max had gotten better at asking for help when he began to feel frustrated or anxious. There were still times when Draco would find Max pulling at his hair and biting his lip. But these instances had declined in the last few weeks.
He'd emerged from his shell as a sweet, curious boy and Draco couldn't be prouder of him.
"Of course, I will. I need a break anyway." Draco patted Max's head to reassure the boy.
"Is Isabelle still with Mittsy?" Draco asked, as Max led them to the tea room.
Max shrugged, "They were still coloring when I went to get my camera." And sure enough, Isabelle and Mittsy were sat at the table, brightly colored utensils scattered across its surface. Isabelle's tongue stuck out at an angle, her arm moved in wide arches pressing hard on a sheet of parchment.
"Young Master Max there you be." Mittsy exclaimed when she spotted the red-head.
"Hi, Mittsy." Max said. Taking Draco's hand, Max pulled him to the other side of the table revealing dozens of polaroid pictures spread out on the floor. Max sat in front of them and shifted through the images.
Draco took the spot beside the boy amazed at the number of photos around them. Max had taken pictures of everyone.
Draco picked up two of the polaroid's for closer study. From the looks of it, Max has quite the eye for photography.
"We need to get you more film." The blonde murmured, mostly to himself.
Max was too distracted with his photo arrangement to answer the older man anyway.
"I want to hang some of these with my painting, but I don't know which ones to use." Max explained the situation to Draco.
"Well then, do you have any favorites?" The boy took his time to contemplate the group of photos, before placing his chosen four in hand.
They were a close-up of Isabelle, her eyes shut, and a large grin plastered on her face. Macy and Max together, faces mushed together to fit in frame. Thomas posing, feet spread apart arms curled in a flex. Finally, Jasmine and himself in the library, both sitting in the same manner mid-debate on the teachings of Flamel.
"We can hang them on your wall. As for the rest, we'll sort them in an album for protection." Draco said.
The redhead nodded and held his photos close to his chest. Before the rest could be gathered, a small hand pointed to a photo. The photo was taken from behind as Isabelle and Jasmine walked through the gardens, flowers of all colors in full bloom around them.
"I like that one, can I have it?" Isabelle asked, crouched on Draco's other side.
"Take as many as you want." Max said with a shrug.
With his permission, Isabelle snagged her favorites. Along with the picture of her and Jasmine she chose a picture of Draco, Max, and Thomas stuck in a fierce battle of chess. Macy dancing a hair brush held to her mouth as a microphone. Thomas sketching, his eyes focusing on something beyond the camera.
Draco's eyes roamed the remaining photos before gathering them for future use once he received Max's approval. The two children headed up the stairs their chosen photos in hand.
The next few hours were spent arranging those photos on bedroom walls according to Max's and Isabelle's exact directions. Other photos would randomly appear throughout the manor in the following days. Each one that now hung had its own intricate frame and enlarged to fill the once bare, lonely walls.
Draco placed his favorite last. Taking up the space above the fireplace, where a portrait of Draco and his parents was once displayed. The oil painting hadn't survived the Death Eater's occupation of the manor, destroyed during one of Grayback's fits of rage.
The image placed in the coveted space warmed Draco's chest when he looked at it. A feeling the ruined portrait had never elicited.
It was well into the afternoon as Draco passed Max's room. Harsh breathing made the man pause to investigate the room. The fear that coursed through him when he found Max curled up in a corner of his room would be forever burned into Draco's mind.
Max's eyes were glazed and unfocused. His muscle trembled, face pale and clammy; his breathing erratic.
It took Draco a while to talk Max into looking at him and an even longer time to reassure the boy he wasn't in any trouble.
While roaming the west wing, Max ran into one of the nastier portraits of a Malfoy ancestor. It screamed some disgusting phrases at Max that caused the memories of his father to surface.
Not for the first time Draco cursed Frank Hawkes and thought he got a too gentle death. The next day, that portrait was gone.
After Max's anxiety attack, Draco carried the exhausted boy to the living room. He snuggled into Draco's side bundled in a fluffy blanket and a mug of hot chocolate wrapped in his hands.
It wasn't long until Max's head started to bob. Draco slipped the mug out of loosening fingers and situated them, so Max's head was resting on his lap. The blonde read to Max from a muggle book set in a fantasy land filled with magical creatures.
The sound of Draco's voice drew the others, who joined the two on the couch without a word.
Jasmine sat on the ground in front of Max holding a cup of tea in one hand while the other reached to hold Max's hand. She would snort and snicker at the inaccuracies the book had about magic and magical creatures.
Macy sat on the couch at Max's feet, rubbing his back gently with Isabelle on her lab. Both girls listened intently, enraptured with the story.
Sitting on the floor by Draco, Thomas rested his head on the blonde's knee close to Max's own. He would make faces at the redhead when Draco would change his voice for the different characters. Every time he would make a face Max would giggle and make a silly face in return.
Draco looked up from the book to see Jasmine holding a camera up facing the group.
"Everyone smile."
And they all did.
The picture was slightly off center, and Jasmine was closer to the lens then the rest of them, but they all were happy.
Two weeks passed since the three teens left the manor and Draco sat in his potion's lab eagerly reading the first letter they sent.
All three say they are doing well. They've seen some discrimination, but nothing all that surprising according to Thomas. Macy made a new friend, Summer, a pure-blood Hufflepuff that doesn't have many friends in the house because of her blood status. An upcoming project in Care of Magical Creatures has Jasmine ecstatic. While, Thomas is counting the days until Quidditch tryouts begin to become a chaser.
"What do you have there?" A nasally voice said from Draco's left.
"Snape, it's been a while." The young man greeted, setting aside the parchment. Draco had one of the two portraits of his godfather, the other hung proudly in the headmistress' office. Severus Snape spent most of his time there at Hogwarts, but every now and then he appeared to berate his godson.
"Yes, I have been busy. As I see, so have you." Snape said, eyes trained over Draco's shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
"Draco we're having a tea party do you want to join?" Isabelle asked, already in her tea party attire. A metal tiara sparkled, crookedly on her head matched with a purple tutu, and a feathered boa around her neck. The stranger in the large frame stole her attention.
"Who's that?" She said, climbing onto Draco's lap.
"This is Uncle Snape, he's my godfather. Is Max and Mittsy setting the table for our meeting?" Draco said, preventing Isabelle's attempts to touch Snape's image.
Snape's nose wrinkled when the word 'Uncle' was used to introduce him to the child.
"Shouldn't children be in school?"
"She's only four Snape. She's too young for Hogwarts."
"Let me ask you this Mr. Malfoy. Was Hogwarts your sole experience with education?"
"Of course not, Father made sure I had the best tutors in England." Draco said, nose in the air.
Snape gave the younger man a pointed look, the two stood there is silence until it dawned on Draco. The blonde's posture drooped.
"Oh, right. I forgot about that." Draco said. He bit his lip looking worriedly at Isabelle, who looked back with a smile.
"Do you know any good tutors, Professor?" Draco asked, attention returning to the portrait.
"Good luck trying to find a tutor this late in the year."
Draco slumped in his chair, disheartened. Until an idea formed.
"I don't like that look on your face Draco." Snape said, eyes narrowing.
"Professor, you are one of the smartest men I know, and I wouldn't have anyone else teach my kids the Slytherin way." Draco said, fluttering his lashes.
"No." Snape said. He had been desensitized from that look for many years now. The sugary look dropped from Draco's face.
"Come-on, it's only until I can find another tutor."
"Once again, no. This is a trap. Did you forget who taught you this tactic?"
"Please Uncle Snape." Isabelle said, flashing the portrait a sweet look, identical to Draco's.
A third refusal was in his throat, but his will crumble at her face. It took years to hardened himself from his godson's look and now it may be just as long to do the same with this girl.
"Fine. But you better find a replacement soon."
"Perfect, so you'll be teaching Isabelle and Max, who is seven." Draco brightly said.
"Wait there's two of them?"
"Come along Kiki. We wouldn't want to keep them waiting too long." Draco said, picking her up and walking out the room.
"Bye-bye Uncle Snape." Isabelle said with a wave.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy you get back here!" But the man was ignored.
The two joined Max and Mittsy at the table, who were both wearing a tiara. Max held out another one to Draco as he sat down to place the cool metal on his head. Isabelle cleared her throat and in a royal tone announced, "Now the tea party of the princess' of the house can begin!"
A month passed and the mood in the Manor had lifted considerably. Laughter and excited chatter could be heard from the kitchen where Draco stood with his two assistants, Max and Isabelle. They stood on chairs, so they could reach the countertop.
A mess of flour, egg shells, butter, and chocolate batter spread across the marble. Some of which had landed on the three during the cake making process. Draco dreaded bringing out the frosting and sprinkles once the cake was finished in the oven.
"So, what should we do as we wait for the cake to bake?" Draco said.
"Clean our mess." Max answered.
"That's right." Draco praised, using a cloth to wipe a smug of chocolate from Max's cheek.
"Aww, can't you just use magic to clean it up." Isabelle complained.
"We could, but you shouldn't have to rely on magic for every little thing. Trust me, I know."
Isabelle unhappily accepted the other cloth. The three began to clean the mess when Mittsy popped in looking distressed.
"Is everything alright Mittsy?" Draco asked.
"I know not. This note Young Master Thomas sent." Mittsy said, passing over the parchment in her hand. Draco's brow wrinkled as he accepted the paper, they'd received a letter from them a few days ago. A letter this soon after was out of character.
The writing was hastily written and short worded. As Draco read over the words on the page a ball of anger and sadness built in him.
The note was crushed in his fist, "I need to go."