London, England
January 1st, 1990
Today, Theodore Nott, the dark-haired heir to the Nott Family was officially turning ten. Not that it was anything worth getting excited about. Seeing as he was all alone in his big mansion with house elves; they cleaned the house, prepared for the big feast that would take a place later today. As usual, he was left all alone in his room just like any other day.
"Young Master Theodore," started Cecilia Braden, her long light brown hair swaying due to the opened window in his room. Her head was held high, her gaze resting on him narrowly, staring at him with a careful gaze. None of the usual caring, motherly gaze she always sent his way was seen on her youthful face. He really must have pissed her off earlier today when he tried to get out the house to take a short walk to St. James's Park. To his defense, he really needed some fresh air and St. James's Park was honestly, the perfect place for jogging.
It really sucked that he got found out before he even managed to get out of the house but really, what did he really expect from her? She was like, a super-human with Theodore radars. If such a thing excited. She had always managed to find him wherever he was in the past; when he was hiding from everyone else after yet another disastrous birthday feast or after a silly fight with Draco.
They may not share a blood, Theodore thought, but she was his mother all the same. She was the one who watched him grow up, taught him how to write and read and the one who cared for his needs like a mother would. She was more of a parent to him than his father ever was. Always in his side, sharp and blunt, telling him off when he needed her to and comforting him when he needed it the most.
"Young Master Draconis is here," she stated, staring at him icily. "He is downstairs, patiently waiting in the guest room. What do you wish to do, Young Master? Shall I send him for you or shall the Young Master go downstairs himself?"
"I shall go myself," Theodore stated, jumping out of his king-sized bed excitingly. "Notts do not get excited. Notts do not have friends," his father's voice was cold in the back of his head, shaking him to the core. Yes, he thought, Notts did not get excited easily. Notts did not have such a silly notion as a friend but Theodore could not care less. Why should he make an effort to satisfy a parent that hated him to the core because of what happened with his mother? No, he thought, he didn't and he wouldn't.
Though he wondered, who he really was trying to convince? Himself or the people around him? Because the truth was, however much he tried to deny it, however, pissed he was with his father, he loved him still. After all, he was his father and Theodore was his son. Nothing could change that fact.
"Would you accompany me to the downstairs, Cecilia?" he asked, smiling wholeheartedly at the young woman he thought to be his mother.
Cecilia smiled, giving him one of those rare, beautiful smiles. "Gladly, Young Master Theodore," she stated. "What dessert I wonder though, would Young Master Theodore and Young Master Draconis would like to have?"
"Ice-cream, if you please. You know how much I like them,"
"Of course, I know all about your unhealthy fascination with the desert,"
They arrived downstairs in a matter of a minute, the rooms that filled the room shut and locked due to the feast that would take place later today, all except one. The one where his blond-haired friend sat at, casually chatting with an elf. "Young Master Malfoy, please! Vicky is all but an elf! I must not sit and give such an offense to Master Theoros!"
"But Vicky, you must be dead tired! You have been working all day from what I gather!"
His friend was enjoying this, he thought with a roll of eyes. He was enjoying making the poor house elf uncomfortable. His wicked sense of an enjoyment and this small show of a sadism, he thought, must be something he inherited from his father. He was so relieved then, that his friend did not inherit all of Lucius Malfoy's wicked personality. There were Narcissa' gentleness and kindness in him too. Though, he suspected, it was all hidden away very well. Even he, his friend, had a trouble getting it out.
Though, enough was enough. Draco had enough fun.
"Do you enjoy making people uncomfortable that much?" he started and as he suspected, Draco did not jump like most people would have done. He was, to be blunt, sharp like a cat. He suspected that he sensed his presence as soon as he entered the room.
"What are you talking about? I was just thinking of taking away the heavy burden that was resting on the poor elf's shoulders," Draco gave him an innocent look, smiling at him widely. No way he would be fooled by that look. He was not some naive girl Draco had wrapped around his fingers. "She worked all day, you see! And I was getting bored waiting."
Right, he forgot the most important thing about his friend; he hated being bored, most of all. More than he hated being left alone which he also hated a considerable amount.
He sighed, sitting on the couch beside his friend, leaving the poor house elf alone to her responsibilities. "So, Draco, why are you here? The feast is at evening. We're still hours away from the feast."
Draco shook his head in what Theodore thought was a disbelief. "Theodore, you really think that I would let you spend this year all alone to your brooding?" Draco stated, his gray eyes staring at him playfully. This was not going to end up good, he thought. But then again, when were Draco's antics ever were? "Come on, dress up! No ice-cream! You had enough of ice-creams and endless broodings. We're going out!"
"Going out?" he repeated his words, raising his eyebrows. "Going where?"
"Yes, Young Master Draconis, going where? Nowhere too dangerous, I hope?" Cecilia's warning was obvious as she stared daggers at his friend. "I hope that you do not think that I will sit by as you get Young Master Theodore into trouble?"
Draco rolled his eyes, rolling the red scarf around his neck. The scarf that his mother gave a long time ago when he was a cute little baby who did not have any of the dangerous playfulness he now had. Though, he did not know him then. How boring his life was then and to be honest, more peaceful. "Relax, you people! Nothing that dangerous! I know that Theodore here doesn't have a will to do that sort of a thing. We're just going to a Muggle London!"
"We're just going to a Muggle London?" repeated Theodore in a disbelief, gasping at his friend. Since when did Muggle London begin to associate with just? If his father found out, okay forget that, if Draco's father found out, they would be a dead meat! No way, he decided. No way he was going to to go to his certain death! He did not want to spend another few hours under a house arrest! It was bad the last time and if his father's reaction was anything to go by, it would be worse this time around.
Though, he suspected, Draco's punishment would be far more painful than his considering what kind of a man his father was. At least his father knew what the limits to the punishments that a child his age should be given. Draco's father, however, did not have that sense.
"It won't be a trouble at all then," Cecilia said, surprising him. What are you talking about, Cecilia? he wanted to ask but couldn't. They were talking about a Muggle London here! The place where muggles lived; the place his own and Draco's father associated with the filth, meaning muggles in their mind. No way they were going to survive after that! "It is, after all, only a sightseeing. It should be alright."
"But, Draco's father-"
"I will be most careful to not get the wind of our little sightseeing heard by Master Malfoy," Cecilia asked, smiling widely at them. "You said so yourself earlier today, Theodore. You need to take some fresh air. It is not good to stay in this dull house all day. Besides, it is your birthday. Just think it as a small treat from me as your birthday gift,"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He really could not argue against that. He did need some fresh air. He just did not think it at the Muggle London. "Alright," he finally stated, grabbing his gray coat. "Alright. Let's go to the Muggle London then."
Draco smiled widely as he led them out the house, his steps barely light and careful, unlike any other child's steps. He really was like an adult, he thought as he followed his friend in a silence, forced to grow up too soon due to the cruel circumstances in his home. Just like any other pureblood child. Such was the cruel reality in the world they lived in.
"That's a bookstore, let's go!" Draco stated excitingly, walking towards the bookstore with slow steps. "I want to know what kind of books muggles have. I am very curious."
There it was, he thought, his friend's undying passion for books. Don't get him wrong, he loved reading books as much as the next person but Draco was, very special. To be exact, his memory was. He could remember anything he read only once without much error. He had a crazy memory which was probably why he wanted to gather as much as information as he could.
Theodore stepped inside the bookstore, followed by Cecilia Braden, who was to say, much more excited about this whole trip than he actually was. He was completely alright with it but he'll much rather go to the Dungeon Alley where he could visit a Quitditch shop.
He missed playing Quitditch very much. He had not had enough time to play or anyone to play with, seeing as Draco was busy these past weeks, locked away in his prison like home.
There was sudden thud and Theodore jerked his head towards the noise and soon enough, he saw Draco's blond hair and his mischievous smile which indicated a trouble. Someone seemed to have bumped into him. He did not have any religion but he prayed for their poor soul. Amen, closed eyes. "I am sorry!" the brown-haired girl said, her curls done in a very neat updo. "I should have seen where I was going!"
Though, he was pretty sure that Draco had bumped into her on a purpose. There was nothing Draco did that was an accident. It always happened because he wanted it to happen. The last time something happened to Draco because it was an accident, he thought hard, no way that ever happened.
"No, it's my fault too, though." Draco smiled charmingly, causing Theodore to roll his eyes hard. "I was not seeing where I was going," he stated, picking up the books she had dropped. "Idylls of the King? What's this about?"
"Idylls of the King is a cycle of twelve narrative poems by the English poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson which retells the legend of King Arthur, his knights, his love for Guinevere and her tragic betrayal of him, and the rise and fall of Arthur's kingdom," the brown-haired girl explained excitingly, smiling widely at his friend. "Or it is said in the description. I haven't really had the chance to read it yet,"
"Well, when you, if we ever have the chance to meet again, you may tell me what it is really about,"
"With pleasure," said the girl, the smile glued to her face. "I am Hermione by the way,"
"I am Draco," he said, shaking the girl's hand. "It's a great pleasure to meet-"
"Young Master Draconis, we have to go! It's almost five! Your father will arrive shortly!"
Theodore jerked his head at Cecilia, narrowing his eyes at her. Really, did she have to ruin that? He was just having his fun. Besides, the Muggle girl seemed to be enjoying his company.
Draco jerked his head at Cecilia in mild annoyance as he took away his hand from the girl. His eyes narrowed, annoyed as he turned on his heel and went his way. "Well then, Hermione, shall we have a chance to meet again," he said over his shoulder, masking his annoyance with Cecilia with a small smile.
When they were out of the shop though, Draco did not bother. "What was that about, Cecilia?"
"I would not let you break yet another maiden's heart, Young Master Draconis," she stated. "And really, it is about time your father arrived. You know how he is; he always arrives at the exact time. If he finds you not home, I do not think that you would the consequences suited to your tastes."
Draco gave a slight shudder, grimacing at that. He nodded his head as they silently followed after the young brown-haired woman. "By the way, Theodore," Draco started casually as they followed Cecilia. "Happy tenth birthday. You always should get told that on your birthday,"
Theodore shrugged it off, a secret smile on the corner of his lips. "Where's my birthday gift then?"
"What are you talking about? You got your birthday gift. You wanted to get out of that dull house, right?"
He could not argue with that.
Wiltshire, England
June 5th, 1990
Today was like any other day at the Malfoy Mansion; house elves cleaned the house and cared for the young Malfoy siblings' needs, Draconis Malfoy, the young heir to the family throne flew around and spent the day reading books in his room and the four-year old Cecilia Malfoy played around the house, dragging the house elves to play with her.
Yes, he thought, just like any other day. Except, really, it wasn't. Today was his birthday; the most hated day of the year. He supposed that, unlike Theodore who had every reason to, he did not really have any reason to hate the holiday but the truth was, he did. He just did not find any meaning to celebrate the day, not when his father only thought him to be a tool to raise his family to even further wealth and influence, to be wed off to yet another wealthy pureblood daughter of one of his many so-called friends.
But as it happened, Dobby and Celeste seem to think that in fact, there was a reason to celebrate the occasion. In fact, Celeste had dragged him out his bed earlier today, forced him to dress up and currently, they were at the hospital, visiting their mother. Not really what he had in the mind when Celeste dragged him out but he can't really say that he minded. There was nothing more that he would love than spend some quality time with his mother.
It was peaceful, something he rarely got at his own house; his father either tortured the poor house elves he bought, had one of his bad temper tantrums or he tortured him, which to be honest, he'll much rather to not repeat again. The last time it happened, Celeste almost witnessed the act. He did not mind the antagonizing the pain it brought to him as much as he suspected he should, not anymore, at least but just for a little longer, he hoped for Celeste to think their father a man who actually loved his children.
Though, he had an inkling feeling that he hated them.
Every time he visited, she was growing paler and weaker. And every time, he looked at her, there was that sinking feeling in his chest that somehow, she was not going to survive past forty. That she was going to die soon and leave this world, them in the cruel hands of their father.
He did not trust his father to take care of him. So, how would he be expected to trust him to take care of his precious little sister? No, he would rather raise her alone than rely on him. He had enough money in his fund to manage their needs for their whole lifetime. They could survive by that.
"How is it at home, Draco?" asked his mother, smiling weakly at him as she caressed Celeste's small cheek. Celeste smiled goofily, her eyes shut as she clung to their mother's hand as if it was her lifeline. "How is Lucius?"
He thought of his father and the business trip he said he was, which really, Draco suspected was a blunt lie. Though his naive little sister who hung on their father's every word did not even think to suspect him of lying, he did. He was not so naive and little anymore. He would not be fooled again. Not after the last time.
"He is well, mother. He wishes that he would have come but he has too much work. Such a small time. He told me to tell you that if he could, he would come to visit in a near future," he lied, smiling at his mother charmingly as he held her other hand. "Mother, I almost forgot. I brought you a bouquet of flowers," he said, pulling the bouquet near the bedside near him. "This for you, mother. I know just how much you love flowers."
His mother smiled, taking the flowers from his hand as she deeply inhaled the Narcissus flowers. "Narcissus," she stated with a small smile as she held her gaze with a soft gaze. "Lucius gave them to me on my graduation day. It was such a small gift yet it meant more than the fancy necklaces and dresses he gifted me over the years," she stated. "Thank you, sweetling. I really appreciate your gift." she kissed him on the cheek as she put the flowers into the vase near her bedside on the wooden desk. "Now, tell me, my sweetlings, how are you two doing? How are your studies? Have you visited your aunt this month yet?"
Celeste nodded her head, a small charming smile on her face. "Yes, that we did! Aunt Andromeda was so happy to see us two that she gifted us with my favorite apple pie!" she babbled on with a goofy smile. "It was really delicious, mama! When you get out the hospital, do you think that we would be able to bake a pie too? Aunt Andromeda's pies are always so delicious! I want to try baking one,"
His mother hummed, a small smile gracing her lips. "I don't know, honey, I am not really good at cooking. My sister had always excelled in the art of cooking more than me," she stated with a small smile as she patted little Celeste on her blond head. "But why don't we give it a try? I don't see why we couldn't. It should not be that hard,"
He shuddered lightly, wondering if his mother would force him to eat again this time too. Really, his mother should not be allowed to cook. Honestly speaking, she truly sucked when it came to a cooking. His little sister may not remember as she was too little to but he still remembered that disastrous accident that was a curry; that black, smelling thing that was a curry. His stomach ached for days after that accident. He shuddered when he even thought about it.
"You look rather pale, Draco. What's wrong? Perhaps, you don't want to eat my food?"
He immediately shook his head, smiling at his mother charmingly, holding her hand tighter. "Of course not, mother. I just love your food. They are all so delicious and irresistible," He really wondered if they were the right thing to say for his health. He also wondered if it was also possible to be killed by a food. "But how about me and Celeste cook you a pie the day after you get released from the hospital?"
His mother giggled happily, looking at him the sidelines with a knowing look. "Oh honey, I am not going to force you to eat when I cook. I know just how terrible I am when it comes to cooking. You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings." she stated with a small smile. "Why do you think I rarely cooked back at home? Lucius never allowed it after eating my cooking the day after our wedding. Poor thing, he really tried to act like he did too but even he can't keep his face a mask at that point,"
He thought about his father; his stoic and icy cold father and of the man that his mother said he used to be. Tall figure that stood over him; the person who however rarely smiled, was kind at heart and who had loved the children he will soon have the same amount as he did his wife. In the end, neither of them mattered to him. He wondered if his mother knew that; he suspected she did though by the look in her eyes she wanted to keep quiet about his true nature just a little bit longer. She wanted them to pretend like his father was a caring person who was at heart, gentle and kind. He tilted his head slightly to the left, smiling quietly to himself.
Pretend? He could that. "The war destroyed him," she had told him once a little while ago, back when she was all healthy and well. How he missed these times. "It destroyed the person he was, shaping him out to be this cruel, twisted thing I no longer recognized. Draco, I looked at him after the war, holding you as you cried in the middle of all that bloodshed and I thought, 'That's not my husband. That's not who I married,' It was very cruel but such was the harsh truth,"
Draco smiled, shaking away the ugly thought away from his head. "Mother, do you want me to read a book to you just like that long time ago when you did me?" he said, pulling up the old, dusty book from his bag. It was said that it was his mother's book when she was Celeste's age, living at the Black Manor in the west of England. He wondered how his mother had felt when she was a little girl who had such a heavy responsibility rested on her shoulders; marry the heir of the Malfoy family. He thought that it was possibly not the most easeful feeling.
At least, his betrothed had not been decided on yet. Though, he wondered if he could ever do what his father thought to be right for him.
"The Tales of Beedle The Beard?" she gawked at the red cover as if she was seeing an old friend she has not seen for a long time. And maybe she was, he thought, he wouldn't know what his mother was thinking about. What anyone was thinking about. He was not a mind-reader. "I missed this book so much. You see, my darlings, when I was Celeste's age, I would drag it out of my bookshelf and read it by myself long after the lights have gone out. It was truly, honestly my best friend at those hard and complicated times."
"Well then, mother," he smiled, staring at his mother with a careful gaze. "Shall we converse with your old friend?"
"You shall, Mr. Malfoy," she said. "And Draco?"
He raised his eyebrows at her in a question, wondering what was she up to. He was all ready to read the book and yet, it seemed that his mother was not done yet. "Happy birthday," she said with a small smile. "Happy tenth birthday, my beautiful boy,"
He smiled and then, the tale began.
Surrey, England
July 31st, 1990
Hadrian Black, recently aged ten, precisely today, was a very unlucky boy. Firstly, he was an orphan; his parents had died due to a tragic car accident when he was an infant, tragic indeed. Secondly, he was left to live with his not so nice uncle and aunt and his cousin Dudley who really liked beating him up. Thirdly, due to Dudley liked beating whoever that tried to become friends with him, Hadrian Black, officially had no one to call his friend. Unlucky boy indeed.
This day of what was supposed to be the happiest day of the year for him somewhat ended up being the loneliest day of the year. He hated birthdays, Harry decided as he swung the swing playfully with his feet. He always did but it seemed that due to the busy, hard days he had to suffer at Dudley house, he had forgotten. He swayed the sand with his feet just for the fun of it and watched as his boots got dirty.
Never mind, he had not cared about the goodness of his boots. He just wanted someone, anyone to tell him happy birthday for once in his life. He cared little about anything else as of now.
"Happy Birthday to You. Happy Birthday to You. Happy Birthday, Dear Harry," he sang with his eyes shut, the swing swinging playfully as he did. "Happy Birthday to good friends and true. From old friends and new. May good luck goes with you. And happiness too." He smiled, hopping off the swing. "Happy birthday, Harry,"
He wished though, that he at least had a birthday cake to blow candles of. At least then, he supposed, he would have felt far better.