CHAPTER 13: Welcome home.
Snape's office was a little too cold for his taste. The man had probably preferred it that way, but since Draco was the one in charge of the rooms now, both fireplaces were instantly lit up. He liked it better like that, it was a little more comfortable and a bit less menacing. Draco liked it there. It was better than being at the dorm, anyway. Having to share a room with two idiots he didn't even talk to and Blaise was not exactly his idea of privacy. And privacy had become a very crucial factor in his life. After his parents had been sent to Azkaban, dozens of journalists and photographers had camped in front of Malfoy Manor. Afraid of retaliation, he hadn't had the guts to hex the hell out of them. He was already lucky that his parents covered up for him. Apparently, he was as innocent as a kitten. Which wasn't true. But since he couldn't be proved to have performed any particular action in favour of the Dark Lord, he was declared not guilty. Which was a load of bullshit; he had a Mark on his arm to remind himself of that.
Draco found a piece of blank parchment and wrote a brief note to Kerrin, explaining that he was to arrive home in a couple days. A small smile formed on his lips when he imagined the house elf would have all the fireplaces lit by the time he arrived. It would be good to see her again.
-I'll send this in the morning –he muttered to himself.
He had acquired the bad habit of talking to himself. It made him look like a loon, obviously, but it was somewhat comforting in moments like those. Hearing his own voice made him feel, perhaps not so lonely. He exhaled heavily and rotated his neck. He heard his collarbones crack. It was time to go to bed; God knew he desperately craved some sleep. A sparkle on the floor caught his eye, and he bent down to pick it up. It was one of Daphne's gold earrings. She must have probably dropped it intentionally so that he would have to give it back.
-The hell I am.
With a harsh move, he opened the closest window and threw his arm back. The earring flew until he lost sight of it. Almost unconsciously, he walked into the bathroom to wash his hands, as if he had touched something impure, which was actually kind of funny, for he had been shagging the earring's proprietor in that same room not even 24 hours ago. Sighing, Draco lied on the warm, soft bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. He lied on top of the covers, since it felt kind of wrong to sleep wrapped in Severus' sheets. Severus. 'What a fucking weird man', he thought to himself. The same woman led him to perdition, and afterwards made a hero out of him. Draco wondered, amazed, how a woman could have such an effect on a man. A mudblood, on top of that. He directed his eyes at the picture on top of the bedside table. Okay, he had to admit, Lily Evans had been attractive. Pothead had probably gotten his awful looks from his father. Except for the eyes. The woman in the picture seemed fierce and sweet at the same time, as if her wild spirit was tamed down by the baby curling in her arms. He closed his eyes, painfully, as he tried to remember when was the last time his own mother had held him close to her heart. With such damaging thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.
-What do you mean, leaving?
-Leaving, Blaise. Leaving for good.
-But why?
Draco snorted. Blaise was definitely not stupid, but he was stubborn as hell. He knew everything that had happened, he could figure out how the pieces fit together.
-Okay, let's recapitulate: you have nothing with Astoria.
-Right.
-You had a one night stand with Daphne.
-Unfortunately, yes.
-And that's it.
-I guess so.
-Then why do you have to go? –Blaise squinted, as if the thought of Draco leaving was somewhat painful to accept.
-Blaise –Draco said, serious-, I appreciate everything you've done for me, mate. Really. But it's time for me to go. It's the best I can do, for everyone. You included.
-But…
-Mate –he put a hand on his shoulder-, we both know what I'm talking about.
Zabini felt the touch on his shoulder burn as if it was hot coal. Indeed, he knew what Draco was talking about… He felt his share of guilt for his departure. If he hadn't been so weak, Draco would have never acknowledged what he felt for him. He could have probably hidden it well enough. But he was just an idiot.
-That doesn't mean you can't come visit whenever the fuck you please. You're always welcome at the Manor.
Blaise looked down, and focused his stare on one of Draco's shirt buttons. He was not going to cry. He was a pureblood, after all, and purebloods don't cry in public. Nor in private, for that matter.
-I'm going to miss you –he mumbled, afraid he sounded like a fag.
-The feeling is mutual –Draco punched him on the shoulder, smirking.
Blaise's punch was a little bit stronger, and with that, they sealed their doubts. Never mind what had happened between them, they still remained as friends. Blaise sighed.
-Do you want me to tell her anything?
-Who?
-My mother, Malfoy, of course –he rolled his eyes-. Astoria!
-Just tell her I left. That's it. She's smart enough to know it's the best thing I could do.
-You know she's going to feel like shit.
-At least she'll be able to walk into the Great Hall again. Take care of her, will you?
-What did you just say? –Blaise grinned.
-Oh, fuck off.
-You told me to take care of her? So you're actually concerned about someone who uses knickers? What the hell happened to you, Draco Malfoy?
-Shut up –he shoved him hard in the chest, knowing it wouldn't even hurt him. That stupid Blaise was even better built than him.
-Potter.
Harry hadn't seen Draco approaching him, and was a little startled. Immediately, Hermione and Ron tensed, and the blond saw how both hands flew into their pockets, ready for anything.
-You two lovebirds can relax, I just want a word with Potter here.
-You can say whatever you want right here, Malfoy –Harry looked at him.
-Consider it a personal favour.
Harry almost spat his pumpkin juice all over his friends. Malfoy asking a favour?! He must have been dreaming. He got up, hesitatingly, and followed the Slytherin outside the Great Hall. Once alone, Draco handed him something. Harry looked at the object he was holding with suspicion. What if it was charmed?
-Just take it, Potter –Draco dangled it in front of his face.
Harry, annoyed, snapped it off his hand. It was a photograph. It took him some seconds to recognize the sparkling eyes in it. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of his mother, and at the sight of himself, as a baby. He looked up at Draco.
-Where did you get this?! –it seemed kind of obscene that Malfoy had had access to the picture.
-Snape left me all of his possessions. That's to say, his books. I found this in his room and thought you'd like to keep it.
-You thought I'd like to keep it? –Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
-Yes, Potter –Draco stuck his nose up-. I have a mother, I know what it feels like. You may not think much of me but I'm still a human being.
-Well, I… -he cleared his throat- Thanks.
-You're welcome. And I'm glad to announce you won't have to worry about me anymore. I'm leaving.
-You're going home?
-Yes. Apparently coming back here was a bad choice.
-Apparently?
-Do you have hearing problems, Potter? Or you simply like to repeat everything I say?
-Fine, have it your way, you prick.
Draco turned around and started walking away. Unfortunately, Harry Potter was the epitome of the Gryffindor moron and had to ask another question.
-What are you going to do?
-What? –Draco looked over his shoulder.
-I mean… With your life.
-I have no fucking idea, Potter.
-Well… Good luck. Anyway.
Draco faced him completely, astonished at how stupid the kid was. Why the hell did all Gryffindors insist on being so blatantly kind? It wasn't normal. It wasn't the way normal people behaved. He had been giving that kid hell for the past seven years (having some reasons of his own, true), and now the bastard was wishing him good luck?
-You're wishing me good luck? –he smirked.
-I wouldn't want to be in your situation, that's all.
-I guess now that you've got everything it's so much easier to look down at me.
-I always looked down at you, Malfoy. I find you kind of pathetic.
-That is more like it –Draco sneered-. Big Scarhead and his big mouth.
Against all predictions, Harry Potter smiled. It wasn't a smirk, or a grin. A real fucking smile. At that point, Draco wondered if he had gone mad during the war.
-I'm actually going to miss you, Malfoy.
-Fuck off.
Harry shook his head and laughed at his nemesis' expression. It was a mixture between completely bewildered and horrified. It was fun, shocking Draco Malfoy. Not many people could get to affect him that much. Harry walked away, and entered the Great Hall with the picture of his mother held tight against his chest. Draco observed the big doors as if he tried to set them alight with his mental powers. That had been diminishing, Potter wishing him luck. What a bastard.
It was dark night already when Draco appeared at the gates of Malfoy Manor. His parents had casted a spell on their property so that nobody could appear inside of it without previous warning. In a matter of minutes, Kerrin was in front of him.
-Welcome home, Master –Kerrin said, bowing down until her nose almost grazed her big feet.
-Thank you –a slight smile formed on his lips.
The elf led him inside the house, and the second they stepped in, his smile grew wider: as expected, all fireplaces had been lit to welcome him with the warm comfort of finally being home. Once he walked into his father's office, he ordered Kerrin to proceed with her tasks and not pay any extra attention to him. He sat down on his father's leather armchair and smelled the familiar scent of books and dark wood. Draco thanked God that the half-full bottle of scotch was still on the table. The first sip tasted much better than he had expected, and as the liquor ran down his throat, he found it relieving and purifying. Everything was exactly like it was supposed to be. Only one change had affected the bureau: a black and white picture of a tall man and a young boy now rested on its auburn polished surface.
-Hey, Blaise.
-Hey, Astoria –he raised his gaze up to smile at her.
-How are you?
-Meh. I could be better…
He sat alone by the end of the table, just as if Draco was still there. The rest of the Slytherins gave him even more vicious looks for that. Astoria, for the first time in days, had decided to have breakfast in the Great Hall. She looked emaciated, which he pointed out.
-Yeah, well. I've been living on chocolate frogs and Bertie Boot's Magic Beans.
-How unhealthy –he shook his head-. Now, why would you do that?
-Because I'm stupid and didn't want to have to look Draco in the eye.
-And you've changed your mind?
-Yes. I still want to be friends with him. Where is he, by the way? –she looked around.
-Well, he… -Blaise cleared his throat- He left a couple days ago.
-Left? –Astoria frowned at his words.
-Yeah. He went home.
-Oh, God… -she covered her mouth with her hand- This is my fault.
Blaise shook his head as a response and, unexpectedly, reached over to grab her hand. She tensed up, totally surprised by his gesture.
-Sweetheart, this is not your fault. He's got too much in his head right now. Hogwarts was only making it worse.
Astoria's eyes went wide. She had never been called 'sweetheart' before by someone with a penis. Aware as she was that Blaise's attention towards her was purely friendly and asexual, she couldn't help but feel somewhat attached to him. That was something she would have never expected, but you've got to take things as they come, and the fact she now had another friend at Hogwarts was extremely comforting to her. Still, now that she had finally gathered the courage to confront Draco, he was gone. What a kick in the arse.