Draco had never been rushed so quickly across the castle grounds and down to the gates as when his mother dragged him behind her that night. The stars seemed to go on forever in either direction, dotting the sky like the bottoms of so many exclamation points, and he couldn't help but notice in fleeting glimpses. Mostly though, they blurred together as his feet carried him swiftly over the wet grass. The sky looked a lot like his head felt at the moment. As the dew soaked the hem of his cloak and began eating into his socks, he tried to process just what was going on.

His mother had not yet spoken to him. After he'd arrived in Dumbledore's office, all hell had seemed to break loose for a moment…

Flashback

"Mother?"

Narcissa came forward quickly and grabbed his upper arm roughly. Her hand was small and her fingers slim, she could hardly get them around his arm. Whether or not he could get away if he wanted wasn't even a question. She seemed shocked for a moment, like this was the first time she'd realized hr son was 17 years old. Her grip loosened. She turned and looked at Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Headmaster. I'll take it from here."

"Headmaster, you do know I stand against this."

"He's not your son, Snape!"

Draco had never heard his mother call him by his last name in his life…

"You don't need to tell him-"

"He asked! He should know!"

"You're going to make him despise you."

Here, there was a pause after the jumble of arguments before. Dumbledore's hands were folded beneath his chin, and his eyes weren't doing that sparkling thing everyone was so fascinated with. "What?" Draco's soft and confused question slipped out. (Note: Yes, Dumbledore is still alive. You can make up whatever reason you want for that, it's just easier for me if he didn't die).

"He won't." Narcissa said, her voice full of conviction, though the small bit of doubt seeping through was enough to dull the effect.

"I assure you, he will. He's grown up believing it, Narcissa-"

"Severus." Dumbledore's voice was soft and far from threatening, but enough to make Snape stop and listen. Even Draco turned to the bespectacled Headmaster. "Draco is Lucius and Narcissa's son, so regardless-"

"You think Lucius would want this? He doesn't even-!"

"Regardless…" Dumbledore cut Snape off with a dangerous glare. He was more threatening then. "…of how you feel, Severus, it is their choice."

"I want to know what the hell is going on!" Draco exclaimed, but it was like no one heard him.

"Goodnight." Narcissa said to no one in particular, and pulled him unceremoniously from the room.

End Flashback.

The manor seemed dull and lifeless when at last they apparated into it. Had he ever really realized how cold it was? Its endless hallways and immense rooms had once been alive with activity, plans to win the war. Now, nearly everyone they once knew was dead or in Azkaban, his father included. And the house was gray.

"Tell me what's going on." He demanded. "Is something wrong? Is father all right? Does this have anything to do with the letter I sent you?" The last question fell softly and fearfully from his lips.

She was pacing in front of him, wringing her long-fingered hands over her stomach. It was the closest he'd ever seen her come to crying, or having a mental breakdown…anything along those lines. He wasn't even sure that she'd heard his questions. Or if she had, he wasn't sure she'd understood them. "Mother?" He asked again. She looked up at him again and he stared at her with lowered brows, waiting for something, anything.

"Draco…" She said almost in a whisper. "You understand that anything I've ever told you has been for your own good, don't you? I would never want you to grow up thinking bad things about yourself. So even if something is a lie, is it a good lie if it is for the good of a person you love?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I just want to know that everyone is all right!" Of course, Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban, but still you were all right there if you were alive and sane. Had his father died? Finally lost his mind? "Is Father-"

"Lucius Malfoy is not your father."

She stared him in the eye, did not look away as someone who had been lying to their child for seventeen years should have. Her hands had moved to her sides, hanging limply there in resignation, waiting for him to do something, he supposed. But what was he supposed to do? This was all a joke. Or a dream or something. None of this was happening.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A tear really did roll down her cheek now, and he knew then that what she was saying must be the truth. His heart sped up and heat rushed to his cheeks, the vein in his neck swelling and throbbing. He didn't want to yell though, not at her…"You…lied to me." His voice came out more threatening than he'd meant. Maybe it would have been better if he yelled.

"Draco, you must know that being married to your father, it wasn't always…hasn't always been the easiest thing."

"I don't know any such thing." He said venomously. He'd practically worshiped his father. There was no one he admired more.

"Think back on the times when he was not kind to you." She said, her voice getting louder as she tried to defend herself. "There were times like that for me as well. More of them. It got a little better once you were born, but it has never been pleasant."

"My father is a great ma-"

"He is not your father!" She screamed, grabbing great clumps of hair in her hands and shedding more tears into the expensive carpet. But she was angry with him now, not just sad. "You don't know anything about who he is!" She looked up and pointed a finger at him. "And don't you dare presume to tell me that you know what my life has been like! The only reason I've even stayed with him this long is because of you! I love you! And I wanted you to have a decent education, the best, and to grow up somewhere you could have whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it! If Lucius had known…that you didn't belong to him, he would have thrown us into the streets…and adulterer and…" She trailed off with more tears, biting her lip and trembling.

"And what?" He challenged her. "Say it, mother. What could possibly be worse than what you've already told me?"

"An adulterer and a half-blood." She stared at him defiantly.

For some reason, before he could think of anything else, he thought of Hermione. She'd known, somehow, known for a long time…she'd been right. And he'd been a fool.