Family Dynamics

"How's school?"

"Really, Mother? We're having this conversation?" Draco drawled, eyebrows raised as he glanced up at her over the top of the book he was holding. He was lounging in the drawing room where a roaring fire kept the room the warmest place in the huge, drafty Malfoy Manor. Narcissa didn't bother to light fires most anywhere else, save her bedroom. Too much work.

The Malfoys had never appreciated house elves so much as they did now that they were impossible to find. Draco couldn't remember a time before when he'd been able to walk into any given room in the house and not see a fire crackling in the grate.

"Yes, Draco, we are," Narcissa snapped, sitting in the armchair across from the sofa he was reclining on. He didn't glance at her; his eyes were already back on the page in front of him. "You never write," she added, sounding almost hurt. "I'm here all by myself for months on end with no one to talk to; it gets lonely you know."

"You don't have any friends to gossip with?" he asked, annoyed. All he wanted to do was bask in the utter solitude he could find at home. He finally had three solid weeks of time away from Hogwarts.

Narcissa inhaled sharply, so Draco finally raised his eyes to look at her. He was so shocked by what he saw that he sat up, casting the book aside.

"Mum," he uttered, perplexed.

"I am sorry," she whispered, laughing slightly as she wiped away the tears slipping down her face. "I'm being silly."

"I-I didn't mean…" Draco was at loss for words. Had he just made his mother cry? Draco racked his memory, trying to remember such a thing having ever occurred before. Had the woman ever cried in front of him?

Narcissa sniffed and took a deep breath before squaring her shoulders and sitting up straight. "Well, that was completely unnecessary," she said, laughing shakily. Draco could only stare at her.

"I'm sorry," he said at long last, the words feeling foreign in his mouth. Narcissa tilted her head at him.

"For what, my sweet?" she asked with a serene smile. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I made you cry," he answered, blinking at her owlishly. She laughed again.

"Oh, no, Draco. You mustn't think such things. It wasn't your fault, dear."

Sweet? Dear? Draco tried to recall the last time she'd used pet names for him. It had been at least three years. He was officially weirded out.

"Mum, you're kind of scaring me, yeah?" he said, slipping into informal speech without even realizing it. He also couldn't recall the last time he'd spoken to his mother this way. It had been so long since he'd spoken to anyone this way. He'd forgotten what it felt like. It felt…nice.

Narcissa's smile faltered and Draco felt a stab of relief.

"I'm not trying to scare you, Draco," she whispered. "I just want things to be normal again."

Draco felt the strangest urge to get up and cross the distance between them, to sit down beside her and let her wrap her arms around him like she used to when he was little. But he didn't. He sat there and stared across the coffee table at her.

"Me too," he murmured.

[]-[]-[]

"Draco."

Draco looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway of the drawing room, a tray in her hands. He sat up.

"I made biscuits," she said, and the announcement would have been cheerful had it not been for the trepidation on her face. Draco smirked.

"How'd that go for you?" he asked, trying not to laugh. She set the tray down and attempted to look proud and haughty for a moment. Draco quirked an eyebrow at her and she snorted.

"Terribly," she said with a harsh laugh. "But you have to try one and tell me if they're good."

"Won't kill me will it?" he asked, picking one up cautiously. It was burned on the bottom, black and awful-looking. He grimaced.

"Might," Narcissa answered grimly. Draco's smile was fleeting, but it was enough to make her heart warm. Merlin knew she hadn't seen much of that the last three years.

"Alright then," he said, raising it to his lips. "Cheers," he added, wrinkling his nose. He took a bite; it crunched loudly, and crumbles of the biscuit dropped all over his shirt.

"Well?" Narcissa asked.

"It's awful, Mother. Truly," he told her, putting it back on the tray and brushing away the crumbs on his shirt. Narcissa sighed.

"I thought so," she said. "Well, back to the drawing board."

"Good luck with that," he said, picking his book up again.

[]-[]-[]

"I'm going to miss you," Narcissa said, brushing the hair out of her son's eyes as they stood on Platform 9¾ . She had insisted upon escorting Draco there to say goodbye despite his assurances he'd been able to apparate successfully for quite some time.

Draco's jaw clenched slightly as his eyes darted around, checking for observers – or something more sinister. Narcissa often wondered if Draco was really as calm and collected as he always appeared at home. Their rare ventures out in public together always revealed to her a more nervous and tense version of her son.

"Draco," she said softly, squeezing his arm. His eyes snapped back to her. "It's okay, son," she murmured.

"I'll miss you too," he said gruffly, ignoring her reassurances.

"Write now and then, yeah?" she asked. The tiniest hint of a smile lifted the side of his mouth.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I will."

"I love you," she reminded him.

"Love you too," he said, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," she reminded him. He gave her a grimace.

"Right."

The warning whistle blew and students started hurrying to get on the train. Draco finally gave in and hugged his mother briefly.

"See you in a few months," he told her. "Try to stay occupied."

"I'll work on my cooking," she joked, and he snorted.

"Bye, Mum."

Draco claimed the first empty compartment he found and quickly drew the shades on the door to ward off visitors. He dug out the book he'd started two days ago – he'd spent his entire winter break doing an unusual amount of reading – and absorbed himself accordingly.

Hours had passed – he'd nearly finished the book and darkness had fallen – before he was interrupted. A knock on the door. He sighed and got up to open it.

"Can I help you?" he asked, annoyed. He took an immediate step back when he saw her standing there.

"Oh. Hi, Malfoy," she said, equally surprised. He stared at her silently, on guard. He hadn't spoken to her since their late-night encounter in the Great Hall, but every time he'd seen her since he'd been tensed and ready for her to tear into him. She hadn't so much as glanced at him any of those times.

"Hi," he said shortly. She glanced around, visibly distracted. Seeing he was alone, she took a step forward, into the compartment proper, and slid the door shut behind her.

"What're you doing?" he asked, still wary.

"Hiding," she said simply.

"Hiding," he repeated, confused.

"Hiding," she confirmed. She moved to his vacated seat and picked up his book, peering at the title. "Interesting," she commented, setting it back down on the seat and straightening up. She glanced around the compartment more curiously, taking in his robes strewn on another empty seat, his trunk on the floor, his eagle owl's new cage gleaming dully in the corner.

"Who are you hiding from?" he asked, still standing. She glanced up at him.

"My sister," she said with a shrug. "I stole her jumper," she added, tugging on her shirt.

Draco recognized the jumper she was wearing. He didn't know why though. Just like he didn't know why this girl seemed so familiar. It was like déjà vu, or a half-forgotten dream. He knew he'd seen her somewhere before this year. The memory was just evading capture, hovering on the edge of his consciousness.

"You're staring," she said. Draco blinked and quickly averted his eyes. She laughed, and the sound made Draco want to grind his teeth with frustration. How do I know you? He wanted to shout.

"I thought you were angry with me," he said instead.

She blinked up at him. "Why would you think that?" she asked, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as she frowned.

Draco was taken aback. "You're not angry with me?" he asked, confused.

She shrugged. "No."

"But last time we talked-"

"Oh," she interrupted, laughing slightly. "It was late. I get crabby late at night, and patrolling is the worst. Sorry about that."

Draco wasn't sure what to make of that. "What's your name?" he asked after awhile. She tilted her head at him, reminding him of a small dog.

"You really aren't very resourceful, are you?" she asked for the second time, smirking slightly.

"What does that even mean?" he asked, feeling offended.

"I've given you everything you need to figure it out. You just haven't bothered," she answered with a shrug. "But I guess the high and mighty Malfoys are used to having whatever they want served to them on a silver platter. Maybe it's not your fault," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe you can't help being a spoiled brat. You've never known anything different after all."

"Hey, wait a minute," Draco said, insulted. "You can't just go around denouncing my family like that."

"Why not?" she asked innocently. "People denounced my family all throughout the war," she added, and her voice was suddenly low and almost frightening in its quiet anger. "They called us cowards, blood-traitors, criminals against our own race. They threatened my father, my mother, and my sister. They threatened me. So you tell me, Malfoy, why I can't say whatever the hell I want about your family? Are you going to stop me?"

Her face was right up against his, furious and menacing and altogether terrifying. Draco took a step back, perturbed. This girl was strange. And possibly unstable.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said at last, and he was ashamed to hear the quaver in his voice.

She stared at him for a long moment before her expression relaxed. She looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she said, lowering her eyes. "That was uncalled for."

"I'll say," Draco muttered. Her eyes snapped back up to his, narrowed, but she said nothing.

After another long pause, Draco's smirk managed to find its way back to his face. "You know, I'm starting to think you should've been in Slytherin," he joked.

It was obviously the wrong thing to say. Her face immediately became stony and unreadable, and rather than looking angry, she looked … sad.

"So I've heard," she said grimly. "I'd better go. See you around, Malfoy."

Draco didn't call after her this time. He moved to the doorway and watched her make her way down the corridor until she reached the doorway to the next car. She disappeared through the doorway without looking back.

Bah. What am I doing here? I'm supposed to be studying. Finals are in FOUR days, and what am I doing? Writing fanfiction and looking at apartments for next year. Someone save me; I'm wasting my life on unimportant things when I should be doing work. I'm going to fail college. Great. Too bad I can't write fanfiction for a living; I'd totally be okay with that.

Right. Review if you liked it, review if you don't. If I don't before then, Merry Christmas.