Resolutions
Draco was ranting. He knew he was ranting, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had imbibed three glasses of cognac at that stupid pureblood club, and the alcohol was making free with his tongue.
"How could she?" he demanded, striding across his bedchamber and waving his fourth glass of cognac, because this news simply demanded a drink. He had shucked the foolish mask and cape and shirt, leaving only the black trousers. His bare feet made no sound on the thick silk carpet, which was almost disappointing. He felt the need to stomp loudly. "I mean, I always knew she didn't deserve him, but to do this? With Blaise Zabini, of all people?"
Pansy lounged on Draco's bed, sans cape and mask. "Oh come now, Draco. You and I both succumbed to Blaise's charms. How do you expect the little Weaslette to be different?"
Draco sipped his drink and glared at her. "Because she's a Gryffindor. Because it's Potter. Because she's supposed to uphold all those morals and ideals they all hold so dear. Because… because…" His voice trailed off, and he finished quietly, "Because it's Potter."
Pansy sighed. "Draco, I worry about you. You were always obsessed with Potter. When did you become smitten?"
Draco looked into the flickering fire, not willing to meet her eyes. If he did, he would feel like an idiot. He wasn't smitten with Potter, he really wasn't. Maybe he was a bit smitten with the idea of Potter. "Well, he'd never do that to her," he said instead of answering her question.
"Of course not. The Golden Boy can do no wrong. Everyone knows that. Hell, I tried to seduce him myself."
"What?" Draco demanded, turning on her so quickly a bit of the cognac splashed his hand.
She held up a hand. "Down Draco! I said tried. It was years ago, at one of those dull Ministry functions. I went with that Ravenclaw fellow with the golden hair, the one that works in the Games and Sports Department… what was his name?" She must have noted Draco's expression, for she hurried on with her explanation. "Anyway, I got roaringly drunk and accosted Potter in a dark alcove. I used every tEric in the book, but the noble bastard simply escorted me back to… whatever his name was… and explained that I had imbibed too much and should probably be escorted home. He managed to do it without making me feel cheap and tawdry, also."
"You are cheap and tawdry," Draco growled.
"Tawdry, perhaps, but never cheap. Besides, you're just angry because I dared to make a move on your little crush."
"Moved and snubbed," Draco said, a bit smugly.
"Indeed. I doubt Blaise could even crack Potter."
Draco sat down heavily on a nearby chair, realizing the truth of her words. Blaise would definitely fail against Potter, just as Pansy had failed. And if those two could never move Potter, Draco had less than no chance at all, regardless of the fact that Potter's wife betrayed him. Draco could not even tell him, because even if Potter believed him—and he would not—then he would simply hate Draco the more for breaking the news.
"This is fucked," Draco said.
Pansy made a noise of assent and snuggled into Draco's pillow. He knew she had no intention of moving from his bed. "'Night, Draco," she said.
Draco sighed and spelled the lights out. "Goodnight, Pans."
He got up and went to seek out another bed.
Draco tried to forget about Potter. He decided that the affair between Zabini and Potter's wife was none of his concern. Martinique made a brief appearance to pick up Scorpius from the Hogwarts Express, and actually sat in the Manor library and listened to several of Scorpius's tales from his first year of school. Scorpius happily included her in his conversation, and it was almost like they were a real family, an image that disturbed Draco slightly. Martinique had gone by morning, however, so her brief flash of maternal instinct had apparently not been overly strong. Draco hated the expression of disappointment on his son's face the next day when he found his mother fled once more, but Draco was glad of her absence. He decided to make up for her disappearance by taking Scorpius to China.
Draco had business in Hong Kong, but he made certain to spend most of his time with Scorpius. They explored ancient towns, studied centuries-old wizarding lore, sought out the hidden places in the Great Wall, and ate a lot of unfamiliar foods. Draco even bought Scorpius an authentic Samurai sword, which he swung about fiendishly until he nearly lopped off Draco's foot by accident, after which the sword was relegated to its burnished wooden case for safekeeping.
His son sent a huge number of letters and postcards to his friend Albus, and Draco was nearly sorry for dragging the boy halfway across the world. When they finally returned home, the Potters were gone. Vacationing in Greece, according to Teddy, who made things a bit easier by teaching Scorpius several Quidditch moves and taking him to Diagon Alley several times.
When the Potters returned, Teddy's visits lessened, due to Potter leaping back into work and apparently dragging the entire Auror Department with him. Scorpius made several "clandestine" visits to Diagon Alley to be with his friend Albus. Draco nearly choked one day when Scorpius asked if he hated Harry Potter. Draco explained carefully that he did not, in fact, hate Harry Potter.
Scorpius seemed far too interested in the subject for comfort. It appeared that his son's friendship with Albus Potter had not diminished with the time spent apart. If anything, they seemed more determined than ever to be together. Draco tried not to worry about that.
It was quite bad enough that they were both in Hufflepuff.
Scorpius made the Hufflepuff Quidditch team as Seeker, which had Draco in quite a good mood until Martinique accosted him in a public café. Draco had more than one informant in the Ministry, in fact he had close to a dozen, although most of them had no idea they were moles—they simply met with Draco and politely listened while he tried to sway them to his point of view. They had no inkling that he rarely cared about political motivation one way or the other; he simply liked to know everything that was going on, especially things that might concern Harry James Potter.
They would listen politely as Draco concocted whatever story he thought they wanted to hear, and then they would invariably spew a wealth of information. Even gossip could be a useful tool when properly utilized.
Martinique appeared suddenly, looking ragged and out of sorts. Draco had not seen her since her cursory appearance to escort Scorpius back to school. He had assumed her to be in Argentina or Brazil or somewhere. She had not even greeted him properly, nor acknowledged the man from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She had plopped herself into a chair like a hoyden and said, "I need money, Draco."
Draco had been furious, although he was careful to keep his expression neutral. "We should discuss this in a more private setting, darling," he had said quietly.
"I don't want a more private setting!" Martinique had shouted. "I am tired of this arrangement of yours! I need more than I'm getting from this fucked up scheme of a marriage, and if all you can give me is money, then so be it!"
The other café patrons had looked at them quizzically, drawn by her raised voice. Draco had smiled like a shark and Obliviated the Ministry official before casting a Silencing Charm on Martinique and Summoning her wand. She had dared to leap on him in a rage, and her fingers had clawed for his throat. Draco had grabbed her and Apparated them to the Manor.
A screaming row of epic proportion had ensued, and Draco had banished Martinique from the premises. He had arranged for a veritable fortune to be delivered to a French bank account in her name, and then set about divorcing the shrewish bitch. Purebloods did not divorce. It simply was not done. However, Lucius was dead, Narcissa despised Martinique, and Draco did not give a shite what anyone else in the wizarding community thought of him.
He altered the wards on the Manor to forbid her ever entering again, and said a cheerful adieu to Martinique Malfoy. He thought it a pity he could not strip his name from her, but supposed it was a small price to pay to be rid of her forever.
He drafted two letters. One to Hogwarts instructing the Headmistress that Martinique was not allowed to visit Scorpius under any circumstances. The second was sent to the Daily Prophet, informing them that his wife was moving to the south of France for her health. News of the divorce would make the rounds soon enough. Draco planned to stave off the rumors as long as possible, for Scorpius's sake. Some of the purebloods at school would gladly use the news as a weapon. For the first time, Draco was glad his son was not in Slytherin.
Draco thought his determination to forget about Harry Potter was quite successful. Granted, he still kept tabs on Potter, but it was purely from habit. He had grown fond of Teddy, who dropped by at least weekly to give Draco a play by play of his latest case with Potter. Teddy let it slip that Potter was working like a demented fiend, and hinted that perhaps things were not exactly roses with Potter's home life.
Draco perked up immediately. "What's that? Are you saying there is strife in the household of the Great Potter?"
Teddy flushed, and Draco could tell the lad was sorry he had mentioned it.
"Harry is not going to leave Ginny," Teddy said flatly.
Draco blinked. "It is really that bad?" he asked, feeling somewhat guilty. Draco had not returned to the foolish pureblood club, whose official name he could never recall, but Pansy made sure to keep him posted as to the "Zabini situation", as she called it. Draco had been quite surprised that Blaise was still entertaining Potter's spouse. Draco had expected Blaise to toss the redhead long ago. He decided it must be the thrill of pulling one over on the Savior of the Wizarding World that kept Blaise interested.
"Never mind. I shouldn't have mentioned it," Teddy said. "Harry just… well, he's been working too much. I don't think Ginny likes it."
"Understandable. Perhaps he should take time off."
Teddy shrugged. "They went to Greece over the summer. It didn't seem to help."
Draco would imagine not, with Potter's wife pining away for Zabini the whole time. It could not have made for a happy holiday. Teddy seemed to shake himself. "Anyway, Victoire and I have set a date! Are you happy for me?"
"You mean despite the fact that marriage is the most wretched arrangement any person can enter into?" Draco asked.
Teddy laughed. "You must admit that your marriage was far from normal."
Draco bit his tongue to keep from replying, Yes, but Potter's was, and look what that got him. He shrugged instead, and grinned at the pale-haired boy.
"All right then, I'm happy for you. When is the wedding, am I invited, and what sort of horrendously expensive wedding gift are you expecting?"
"The wedding is next spring, of course you are invited, and I'm not expecting any gift at all, other than your presence."
Draco gave Teddy a genuine smile, oddly touched. "All right then, I shall cross the expensive gift off my list and have the house-elves dust off some of the old, useless silver in the storage room. How does that sound?"
"It sounds perfect." Teddy smiled fondly.
Draco waved him away. "Be gone from here. Your stupidity might be contagious."
Harry Potter
"Father, can my friend Albus Potter come and visit me? Since you don't actually hate his father, as you said," Scorpius asked innocuously one morning, nearly causing Draco to choke on his tea. He recovered after a short coughing spell.
His inability to breathe had given him a moment or two to consider the question. There really was no reason to deny Scorpius the dubious joy of Albus Potter's presence, and it was not as though Potter himself was part of the package.
"Provided you give me a list of rules beforehand, detailing what you and young Mr. Potter will not be touching, reading, entering, or demolishing during his stay here… I should say he might visit."
Scorpius actually leaped from his chair with a whoop before he remembered himself and sat back down. He picked up his fork sedately, but the huge grin never left his face.
"Thank you, Father," he said quietly. Before midday, Scorpius had provided a detailed description of the places and things forbidden to Albus Potter, and in mid-afternoon, Harry Potter and son appeared outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.
Draco watched from his bedroom window as Potter and Albus appeared outside the front gates. Draco sent a quick spell to open the gates just as Potter reached for them. He grinned slightly at Potter's expression, and kept his eyes on them during the long walk to the front door.
'They're here! Father, Al's here!" Scorpius cried from his doorway. Draco smiled and followed his son down the stairs. Scorpius managed to contain his exuberance, and did not race down the steps, but Draco could see the impatience in the set of his shoulders.
Scorpius reached the antechamber first, and cried, "Al!" Draco nearly laughed aloud when Albus Potter flung himself at his son and nearly knocked him off his feet.
"Down, Al," Scorpius reprimanded, but his voice was fond.
Albus stepped back obediently, and said, "Dad, you remember Scorpius?"
"Yes. Nice to see you again," Potter said pleasantly just as Draco entered. Potter's smiled faded instantly.
"Potter," Draco said, and nearly winced when his voice held the same tone of disdain he always seemed to use on Potter.
"Malfoy," Potter retorted in the same timbre.
"Come upstairs, Al," Scorpius hissed, barely loud enough for Draco to hear, "Before they change their minds!"
He grabbed Albus Potter's hand and they hurried from the room. Draco heard them pelt down the hall, and he smiled wryly.
"Would you like a drink, Potter?"
"God, yes. I mean… please."
Draco looked at the Auror carefully. He looked tense and almost… haggard. He had been the picture of health when Draco had flirted with him at the Quidditch World Cup. Now Potter looked like he had not been sleeping well.
Draco quickly prepared a gin and tonic with a twist of lime. He handed it to Potter, who looked at him quizzically.
"How did you know?" he asked, lifting the glass.
Draco smiled and let a touch of heat enter his gaze. "I know everything about you, Potter. Your favorite drink, your favorite color, which soap you prefer, your choice of broomstick… everything."
Harry sipped at his drink. "I don't even want to know why," he said and sat on the sofa. "Thank you for allowing Albus to come. He… well, he really seems to adore Scorpius."
"My son would simply have arranged a clandestine meeting if I refused. They have been meeting in Diagon Alley for years. Did you know?"
Potter blinked at him in surprise. Draco chuckled, but made no comment about Potter's obliviousness. His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he marched forward to grasp Potter's chin. The Auror jumped, nearly spilling his drink in alarm. Draco tipped the dark head slightly, to expose a jagged line that marred Potter's skin from his ear over his jugular, and down nearly to his collarbone.
"That's new," Draco said harshly. Potter flushed and looked away.
"I… It's nothing. I was a moment too slow fighting a—" Potter scowled and knocked Draco's hand away. "Well, what do you care? Disappointed that Eric stopped the bleeding before it killed me?"
Draco scowled. "You should be more careful. You're not twenty years old any longer."
Potter glared. "Thank you for the reminder. Since when do you care about my safety?"
"I've always cared about you, Potter," Draco drawled, pouring himself a drink, as well.
Potter snorted a laugh. "You cared to see me dead for the first seven years, and cared nothing for me for the next seven." Potter held up a hand when Draco turned to retort. "Please don't try to explain. I'm certain your motivations would only confuse me."
Draco shrugged and sipped at his drink. "Perhaps not all of my motivations," he commented mildly. Predictably, Potter flushed. Draco felt a flare of amazement that Ginny Weasley was willing to give him up. Draco thought he would never tire of pulling reactions from Harry Potter.
Potter raised his glass. "One thing I can say for your company, Malfoy. It's never boring."
Draco smiled, oddly pleased by the comment. "Thank you, Potter."
The Auror finished his drink and bolted. Draco was careful not to touch the Chosen One again, mostly for the sake of Scorpius. He did not want to give Potter cause to forbid Albus to visit. And if Potter just happened to be lulled into a false sense of security, then so be it.
Chocolate Towers
Harry Potter made several more trips to Malfoy Manor over the remainder of the summer, either to drop off Albus or to pick up Scorpius. He never stayed long, and Draco found it more and more difficult to slip into the barbed animosity of their younger days. His heart simply wasn't in it. For one thing, every damned time he saw Potter, he wanted him. The Auror looked paler and thinner each time he appeared, and Draco began to question Teddy mercilessly.
Teddy had no idea what was wrong. He only knew that Potter had thrown himself into work like a madman, even coming up with his own cases when the Ministry could not produce them quickly enough.
"It's almost like he has a death wish," Teddy admitted one night, and then blanched. Draco gnashed his teeth and cursed Ginny Weasley. He knew damned well the cause of Potter's distress. Ginny was still deeply immersed in her affair with Blaise Zabini. If Potter did not know for certain, he most likely suspected.
The breakthrough came in early October. Draco had been avoiding the necessity of going over his Swiss accounts by stacking foil-wrapped chocolates into elaborate towers. He had constructed an impressive structure of nearly three hundred of them when Harry Potter Apparated into the room. Draco blinked at him in amazement, and his hand brushed a section of wall, bringing it down in a silver cascade.
Potter looked nearly as shocked. "I… erm… I really didn't think that would work. I was certain you would have wards that prevented direct Apparition."
Draco shrugged and scooped the fallen sweets into a pile. "You can Apparate into this room any time you like, Potter. I trust you." As a matter of fact, Potter could have Apparated to any damn room of the Manor that he chose, including Draco's bedchamber—although, of course that was wishful thinking on Draco's part. After Potter's first visit, Draco had reset the wards to allow Potter full access. He had not seen the Auror since the Hogwarts Express had taken their assorted children back to Hogwarts.
Potter fully gaped at him. "You do?"
Draco sat back with a sigh and began to unwrap one of the confections. "You really are oblivious, aren't you, Potter? Were you just testing my wards, or do you… want something?" He allowed his voice to rise hopefully at the end, just to see the pink tint Potter's cheeks. It worked as expected.
"I… no." Potter threw himself into a nearby chair and looked at Draco seriously. Draco slid the chocolate into his mouth and allowed it to melt. He tossed one casually to Potter, who snagged it out of the air without half trying. "Well, sort of. What do you know about a local pureblood club?"
Draco nearly choked. He was suddenly quite glad of the confection in his mouth, especially when Potter rushed over and began to slap him firmly on the back. Draco swallowed hard and coughed a few times.
"Thanks," he said shakily, struggling for breath. Potter's hand lingered in the middle of Draco's back for a moment.
"Sure you're okay?" Potter asked.
Draco nodded quickly. "Just swallowed wrong," he lied.
Potter's hand moved away, and the Auror retreated back to his seat. "Well, I doubt anyone would be surprised to find your tombstone engraved with the words 'Died of Sweets.'"
Draco huffed. "I can only think of one other thing I'd rather be dead of."
Potter actually cocked a brow at him for a moment, and flushed again at Draco's wickedly huge smile. The Auror actually grinned and tugged at his forelock. "Yeah, wouldn't we all?"
Draco sighed, wishing to extend the moment, but knowing it would simply disintegrate back into discomfort if he allowed it to stretch. "Pureblood club. I've heard of it."
"Are you a member?" Potter asked, sitting forward on his chair.
"Certainly not. I've better things to do with my time than sit around and play dull card games or watch a roulette wheel spin." Or snog Blaise Zabini in a darkened corridor, or join a pureblood orgy in one of the upstairs rooms…
"I think their entertainments may have… evolved," Potter said.
Draco waited curiously and unwrapped another chocolate. He bit off a piece, instead of popping the entire thing into his mouth this time. He shut his eyes and savored the melting sensation. Chocolate was truly exquisite. Potter watched Draco, instead of speaking.
"Evolved?" Draco prodded.
Potter peeled away the foil on his own chocolate and nodded. "Muggle-baiting. It's been going on for quite some time. We did not know who was responsible, until recently."
"What sort of Muggle-baiting?" Draco asked, licking the sweet darkness from his fingers. He resolved to have a little chat with Pansy—it suddenly became clear what she had been hiding from Draco in regards to the activities of her little club.
"Malicious hexes in random villages. Nothing life-threatening so far, mainly things Muggles can mistake for disease—boils, hair loss, an epidemic of teeth falling out, chills that cannot be dispelled… It took a while for us to even link the occurrences, but when Hermione began to research similar incidences, there turned out to be quite a lot of them. Going back at least a year."
"And you thought I was involved?" Draco asked dryly. Surprisingly, Potter shook his head.
"No, it did not seem your style."
Draco cocked a brow. "Not my style?"
Potter chuckled. "No, I simply can't envision you sneaking around in a mask and cape. If you ever perform an evil deed, you'll likely emblazon your name upon it in letters three meters high."
"Like a Dark Mark?" Draco snapped.
Potter sobered. "No. Something classier."
Draco blinked at him. "Was that a joke, or a compliment?"
Potter tossed the wadded up wrapper at Draco, who caught it before it hit him in the forehead. The Auror shrugged. "A compliment, I suppose. I think maybe you've… changed a bit in the past twenty years."
Draco picked up a piece of parchment and a quill from his desk and offered them to Harry Potter. "Can I get that in writing? I think I misheard you."
Potter tugged at the hair over his scar, a habit that Draco was glad to see had not diminished over the years. "Don't let it go to your head. I'm only learning to tolerate you for Albus's sake."
"Then why are you here?" Draco asked with a knowing grin.
Potter flushed, already retreating from his momentary bout with honesty. "I don't know. I just thought you might be able to help. Forget it."
Draco stood up and rounded the desk before Potter could escape. "No you don't! You do not drop in here and act like we are actually… friends, or something, and then try to blow it off as though it's nothing. If you want my bloody help, then cough up some of your fucking Gryffindor courage and ask for it."
That got a rise out of Potter, whose face immediately took on the irritated glare that he most often wore in Draco's presence.
"Fine! I'm asking for your help!"
Draco halted in front of the Auror, close enough to touch. He kept the smug grin from his lips with effort. "Was that really so difficult?"
"Nearly impossible," Potter snapped. He stepped back, likely in case Draco got the idea to actually touch him, even though Draco had successfully resisted such actions for months. "Do you think you can? Help me, I mean?"
Draco sighed, stamping down his elation. It figured that Potter would finally ask for something, and that something would be extraordinarily hard to achieve. "Well, I can't join their little club. It would look suspicious, after I've avoided it so studiously all this time. I would suggest using Goyle, but he is well-known to be my…"
"Evil minion?" Potter suggested.
"Loyal follower," Draco corrected with an edge to his voice. Potter chuckled, and Draco had the sudden urge to throw him down on the thick carpet and shag the life out of him. He forced the thought away. He sighed. "All right, Potter. Let me see what information I can find for you. Give me a few days." It would probably take that long for Draco to track down Pansy and bribe some answers from her.
"Okay. And Malfoy… erm… thanks."
Draco smiled, and gave Potter a look to let him know that Draco's assistance always came at a price. Potter looked away, pretending he had not seen it. The Auror mumbled a quick goodbye and Disapparated, leaving Draco pondering ways to extract payment from the Gryffindor hero. It was nearly an hour later that Draco realized he needed to actually dig something up before Potter would owe him anything. He quickly sent an owl to Pansy Parkinson.
