Chapter Fifteen

Draco spent an extremely uncomfortable dinner with his mother where they spent most of the time trying not to stare at the empty seat at the head of the table. The conversation was just as stilted, with Narcissa trying her best to speak of happy things and avoiding the elephant in the room.

She even pulled out the truly horrid Christmas stocking that she had knitted while she was pregnant with him. After seeing what she had come up with, she never knitted again, but being a proud woman she pretended that the crooked letters were intentional and thus hung the stocking up every year without fail.

"So, how are your lessons?" she asked in a falsely cheery tone. Draco pretended not to hear the strain in her voice.

"As well as can be expected," Draco said quietly.

"You know...Pansy still writes me on occasion," Narcissa began.

"I'm not getting back with Pansy, Mum."

"I know...I know," Narcissa said waving away the comment. "She has written me to say that you are getting rather serious with Tracey Davis," she said eying him closely.

Draco looked at her sharply. "We spend time together, yes," he finally allowed.

"Well, is it serious or not? I'm not like your father, while it would be nice for you to marry a Pureblood, I want you to be happy above all else, but it does worry me. Have you told her about..."

"Of course not!" Draco said bitingly. Seeing Narcissa flinch he gentled his tone. "Forgive me, Mother, but no I haven't told her, but she is a smart girl. I can't control what rumors she might have heard, but I haven't told her about it."

"She hasn't asked you?"

"No, and I hope that she never will," Draco murmured. He didn't want to lie to Taryn, but he wanted her hurt even less. If he had to lie to protect her then he would. As much as he hated being in an argument with her, it was a blessing in disguise. He felt like the worst scum on Earth looking in her big blue eyes in one moment and plotting murder in the next.

"I guess that is for the best, at least for now. When this business is over maybe you two can become something more," Narcissa said. This time the cheer in her voice was real.

Draco didn't want to burst her bubble by saying that it would be a miracle if he survived. His mother did need her hopes, however naïve they might be, after all.

Draco quickly mounted the stairs to the third floor, skipping the lift. He hated to take the elevator. He didn't like the thought of being trapped in a box lifted by cables, despite the fact that he could Apparate out should the need arise, and there was the fact that you often had to ride with another person. Then there was always the idle yet awkward conversation that he liked to avoid.

He walked briskly to the end of the long hall, stopping in front of a pair of ebony lacquered double doors.

Pulling out his key, he unlocked the door, not bothering to turn on the lights in the entrance hall. His first stop would be the kitchen, Apparating usually gave him a wicked case of dry mouth, and he knew there were cold cans of coke just waiting for his consumption.

As he walked through the entrance, a scream, followed by a doughnut thrown in his face stopped him abruptly.

"Rico!" a tiny brunette, clad in a half buttoned dress shirt, screamed.

"Wait, I'm..." Draco began as he heard the thudding footsteps.

Rico, obviously having just rolled out of bed –naked– , skidded to a stop as he took in Draco standing in the kitchen doorway and the brunette cowering in the corner of the spacious room.

"Get him Rico!" the brunette screamed as she reached for of all things a colander. How she planned to defend herself with that Draco would never know, although he was somewhat interested to see her try.

Rico blew out a sigh of relief. "Leah, calm down this is my brother Dra – er – Ryu," he amended at Draco's pointed look.

Draco took in Rico's lack of attire with a grimace. "Damn, man, put on some freaking clothes!"

"Well, fuck, I didn't think I would be seeing you this early," Rico grumbled, walking to the living room to pull an afghan off of the couch. Wrapping the blanket around him he turned back to Draco.

"You two are brothers?" Leah was asking skeptically from behind them, taking in Draco's blonde hair and fair skin and Rico's dark locks and golden brown tone.

"Yeah, we are," Rico said bluntly.

And they really were. Rico and Draco were the closest to a brother that each other had. Rico was the only Muggle that knew that Draco was a wizard. After a year and a half of training and fighting together Rico had asked him point blank about what he was. At the time Draco was scared shitless but now he could think back on the day with humor.

"What the fuck are you, bro?" Rico had asked.

Draco, who was in the middle of beating the shit out of the heavy bag stopped abruptly. "What to you mean?" he asked cautiously, pushing sweat soaked hair from his face.

"Do I really need to list everything?" Rico asked, sitting cross legged on the mat.

Draco merely stared at him quietly.

"Fine," Rico said blowing out a breath, "I guess nobody else has the balls to ask, or they are too fuckin' stupid to realize. I don't mean this in a bad way, but you are fuckin' weird. You're better now but the first couple of weeks knowing you was, I dunno, strange. You didn't know basic shit. Asking you to order a pizza by phone was like someone asking me to lecture about quantum physics. Nobody could ask you anything about telly or music without that blank eyed stare coming on your face. I get that this place isn't big on confessions, and maybe that's why nobody asks. There is also the fact that you don't scar. I know that you are a rich kid, don't deny it, but there isn't enough money or plastic surgeons good enough to make you look like you haven't taken some hits. I mean, your nose isn't even crooked from when Lars broke it six months ago! I know that we didn't start out cool, but I'd like to think that we're cool now, so again, what the fuck are you?"

Draco was immensely glad that only he and Rico had decided to stay after close to train longer. Rico had been with the gym long enough to teach, so Jeff didn't think anything of letting him lock up later if he so desired.

Draco drew in a long breath. "This can't go past these doors. You can't tell anyone."

Rico rolled his eyes. "Man, this place is built on secrets. I think I can keep yours."

"Imawizard," Draco mumbled.

"What?" Rico asked, his forehead crinkled in confusion, "speak up. I didn't hear that at all, man."

"I said, I'm a wizard," Draco said in a clearer tone.

Rico began to laugh. "Bullshit. Man, if you don't want to tell me just say so and I'll back off."

Draco hadn't considered that if he ever told a Muggle what he was that they wouldn't believe him. "Its true. Why would I lie about it? I think I could come up with a better excuse for avoiding conversation if I wanted."

"I dunno. Maybe you just don't want to tell me, but you know what I'll play along. Do some magic if you are a wizard," Rico said in an amused tone.

"I can't. I'm not allowed. Its punishable by law."

"That's pretty convenient," Rico said, chuckling.

Draco frowned for a moment, before brightening. "Punch me," he said excitedly.

"What?" Rico asked, one brow risen in question.

Draco figured that he could do a small wandless trick and blame it on strong emotion if questioned to avoid the underage magic muggle presence penalty. He'd plead self-defense if he had to. "Don't argue, just hit me. Its nothing new, I just wont be hitting you back. Don't hold..."

His words were cut off as Rico slammed his fist into his mouth. Blood ran down his chin, and the folded metal chairs against the wall began to rattle.

Rico watched in amazement as one lifted itself into the air, unfolding before easing behind him.

"Have a seat," Draco said grinning, wiping the blood from his face. He watched as Rico sat abruptly into the chair that had been so generously provided.

"I'm going to have a shower while you talk to your brother," Leah was saying.

"Sorry, mate," Draco said after the brunette had headed to the bathroom in the master bedroom. "I didn't realize that you'd have somebody over."

"Its cool, she's just this chick who works down at Bianchi's," Rico said shrugging, as he headed to the room to get dressed.

"Damn, is there gonna be shit when we go there later?" Draco called from the living room.

Rico and Draco always met up a few days before Christmas for pizza at Bianchi's. After the first year of knowing each other, where Rico routinely kicked the shit out of him until Draco learned to give as good as he got, Draco had finally spoken more about his background. He had explained, as briefly as possible, about his family and the different kinds of danger that Rico would be in if he ever met them. By the time that he actually got around to talking more about himself, he didn't need to convince Rico that he was telling the truth and Rico took him at his word.

They had grown close. Everyone at Stygian knew that if you came after Ryu that you would have to deal with Rico, and vise versa. They always had each others back, and while Draco would have liked to show Rico some of the Wizarding world, with Voldemort around it just wasn't possible.

So instead they hung out during holidays and summer break. They had even went half in buying the apartment, and Draco kept a room there. It worked out for them both. Rico couldn't have afforded the place by himself, and Draco had a place where he could just be himself and get away from all the problems at the manor.

"Nah, man. Leah is cool, and besides its not that serious. She doesn't have a dude and I don't have a girl, so we help each other out," Rico said with grin, walking back to the living room.

"Good, because I've been dreaming of a deep dish slice for months, and I don't want your dick to fuck it up," Draco said on a laugh.

"It already fucked it up," Rico said smirking, innuendo lacing his voice.

They chatted amiably for a while until Leah got out of the shower.

"I'm going to take Leah home first and then I'll meet you at the restaurant," Rico said.

Nodding, Draco headed to his bedroom. He sighed in relief and laid back on his bed. The room wasn't that much different from his room at Hogwarts. Despite Slytherin's overwhelming love for green, Draco actually preferred blue or black, and his room echoed his tastes.

He hadn't taken the time to decorate it himself, he never would have purchased the blue and black decorative pillows that were piled on his bed. The pillows, as well as the stylish black and white prints had all been the doing of Stephanie Brock.

At the time they bought the apartment, Draco had been fourteen, he hadn't dared deny a heavily pregnant Stephanie from her joy of decorating. It seemed that her nesting stage extended beyond the four bedroom house that she and Willy bought after their wedding, and no one hand wanted to ruin her fun.

Despite being tough fighting men, they all caved whenever Stephanie's big brown eyes welled with tears, which had been often when she was pregnant. Only Willy had smiled indulgently at his wife's tyrannical decorating methods, every one else had smiled to her face, but looked at each other in shared masculine terror when her back was turned.

Draco had found himself spending entirely too much time, and money, in John Lewis being dragged by the hand though department after department by Stephanie. It was embarrassing enough that they had thought he was her kid brother, but his eyes definitely began to glaze over when she began to describe the differences between duvets and comforters and the merits of a mattress protector.

On the other hand, he hadn't really wanted to be bothered with decorating the apartment and since it made her happy he'd bowed out and let her run free. Surprisingly she had taken his taste into account and he found himself liking what she had chosen. The place felt more like home to him than anywhere else, and after he graduated, if he lived, he fully planned to move in with his brother.

Finally, dragging himself off of the bed, he went to his closet and pulled out a battered leather jacket, and grabbed his helmet from the top shelf.

Downstairs in the parking garage, he lovingly ran his hand over his bike. When he had decided to get a motorcycle a year ago Rico had looked at him like he was crazy.

Rico thought nothing of getting into the ring with a guy who could bash his head in, but the thought of a motorcycle was too much.

"You'll get yourself wrapped around a pole, bro," he had said. "Why don't you just get a bad ass car, like mine?"

"No, I want the bike," Draco had said firmly.

Sighing, Rico helped him by contacting a few good friends and setting Draco up with a false driver's license. After a few weeks of searching Draco found the perfect bike.

The Ducati had seemed to call to him. He had paid the owner's outrageous price, the man knew he was underage and took full advantage of it, and he had taken it to a mechanic after to get it thoroughly checked out. After the bike was cleared, he took it in for a paint job, choosing a blue so dark that it was almost black.

Rico had merely shook his head, saying that Draco didn't even know how to drive the bike.

Surprisingly it didn't take much time for him to learn. Draco figured it was like anything else in life. If you wanted it bad enough, you made it happen, and he loved his bike. It was thrilling to race through the streets, not to mention the fact that it really turned on the ladies. Sometimes all he had to do was roll up, take off his helmet, and it was like the ladies threw their knickers at him. After a while, even Rico contemplated getting a bike, but soon got over the notion with the purchase of a new car.

Pulling on his helmet, Draco swung a leg over the bike and soon the engine turned over with a roar.

Speeding down the streets, he made his way to Bianchi's, stopping and parking his bike in front of the small restaurant.

The restaurant didn't have much to commend in the looks department. Ten small round tables covered in threadbare red and white checkered tablecloths dotted the floor, and five booths lined one wall, just under a set of windows. Each table and booth had a small glass vase with two plastic roses standing inside. The walls were painted a peeling burgundy red and hosted a truly eclectic collection of prints, photos, and even signed napkins. Despite the shabbiness of the décor, the place was packed.

Bianchi's had the best pizza in all of London, as far a Draco was concerned. Granted he might be slightly biased, this was the first place he'd actually eaten pizza, but judging by the crowd he wasn't the only one who felt the same.

Scanning the crowd, his gaze finally alighted on Rico, who was sitting in the last booth, located next to the kitchen and emergency exit, a half eaten pizza in front of him.

Draco didn't even blink at the sight, he was going to order his own pizza anyway. Rico's taste in pizza was disgusting. He didn't understand why the bloke had to ruin a perfectly good pie with anchovies. For himself he liked the simplicity of plain pepperoni, occasionally with black olives.

"What took you so long?" Rico asked, mouth full of pizza.

"Just relaxed a bit, mate," Draco said, easing himself into the booth.

A waitress promptly appeared beside the table, her eyes settling on Draco, ignoring Rico completely.

"Hey, Ryu. Do you want your usual?" the blonde asked. She was wearing the standard Bianchi burgundy tee-shirt, but it was tied into a knot in the back, baring her midriff and clinging to her generous breasts. A strip of tanned skin was revealed over her tight jeans. She pulled an order book out of her black waist apron, even though she already knew what Draco would order.

"Hey, Brandi. Yeah, I want the usual and a beer to go with it," Draco said distractingly.

"Whatever you want sugar," She said, eying him lingeringly before sashaying away, her face crinkled in confusion.

"Shit, man what did you do to her? She is still on you!" Rico said in amusement.

Draco had met Brandi and Bianchi's just before the start of his fifth year. She had thought that he was older, his height and muscles often lent credence to the assumption, and she had promptly began to flirt with him. She was a few years older, he had never asked exactly how many, and she had been the first girl he had ever had sex with. She was a cool girl, not that he'd bothered to learn much more beyond the fact that she was a screamer. Her best quality was she didn't ask much of him, and was always ready for a shag if he was so inclined.

"What can I say," Draco said grinning, "I have skills."

"You taking her home later?" Rico asked.

"No, not this time," Draco said sobering, as he thought of Taryn. They hadn't ironed anything out yet, but he felt like it would be...wrong...to take Brandi back home with him. He just didn't feel right about it.

"You're shitting me right? When have you ever turned down a hot chick? Especially Brandi, the chick without a gag reflex," Rico said, laughing at his crude statement. He watched Draco intently for a moment when he didn't join in. "Shit, man. You aren't back with that Pansy chick are you?"

"Fuck no," Draco said quickly. "If it was up to Pansy, I'd be married and she would be knocked up." He shuddered at the thought.

"You got somebody though," Rico said, " and something else is bothering you. I can tell."

Draco frowned. Rico was too fucking perceptive. Since he didn't want to drag his brother into the Voldemort shit, he decided that he would tell him about Taryn, and hopefully it would distract him from the other things.

"I'm kind of seeing this girl Taryn. We go to school together," Draco said finally.

Rico had to wait a moment before commenting because Brandi was back at the table with their beers, having assumed that Rico would want another one as well.

"Your pizza will be ready in about fifteen minutes," Brandi said, frowning when Draco didn't engage her in conversation or even flirt a little.

When she finally moved away Rico asked, "So she's a..."

"Yeah, she is," Draco said, answering Rico's unasked question of whether or not Taryn was a witch.

"So she your girlfriend then?"

"That's debatable," Draco said, darkly.

"That doesn't sound very promising, bro, and it really doesn't sound like your MO. So, do you want her to be?" Rico asked, taking a swig of his beer.

"Honestly, at times I wouldn't mind it. She pisses me off in one second and in the next all I wanna do is keep her in the sack. I know that she wants more, she just as much as said it," Draco said, brows furrowed.

Rico regarded him for a moment. Draco really didn't look too appalled at the prospect of becoming something more with the girl. He wondered if Draco realized that he was in love. In an effort to relieve some of the heavy Rico asked, "So what does she look like? Is she hotter than Brandi?" he asked on a laugh.

Unfortunately, it was said at a bad moment. Brandi, having overheard the comment, slammed their pizza tray on the table before stalking away in a huff.

"Aw, sorry man. Looks like I burned those bridges for you," Rico said apologetically.

"Its cool. I didn't make promises to Brandi. She knew what it was. I just hope that she doesn't spit on the next pizza I order," Draco laughed.

"So, about Taryn," Rico prodded, while applying himself back to his own pizza now that Draco had his.

"Man, she's so fuckin' hot. She has reddish-brown hair and blue eyes, and her body is sick. She's a dancer," he said, biting into a slice.

"Ah, flexible then," Rico said grinning.

"Yeah, well, lets just say that the sex doesn't suck."

"So, what's wrong then? Dancer, hot body, what fucked it up?" Rico asked.

"Maybe the fact that my life is complete shit, and its dangerous right now."

"You mean that Vol..."

"Don't say his name," Draco interrupted. "Its not safe, even here."

The din in the room was considerable, but he wouldn't allow Voldemort's name to pass either of their lips.

"Right, okay then. I just don't get it. Why doesn't someone just take him out. A bullet to the head would do it right nicely."

Draco pondered this for a moment. Fuck, that would be sunshine and rainbows if I could just blow a hole in his head, he thought, but he soon discarded the idea. "He grew up as a Muggle. It would be a huge oversight if he didn't have some sort of shield, and he's not an idiot. He didn't survive this long by being a dumbass."

"It was just a thought. You could always nuke him, though."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah if I ever get my hands on a nuclear weapon, I'll consider it."

Rico looked at his adopted brother closely. He knew Draco, and his bro was dealing with some deep shit, and it pissed him off that he couldn't help. Now, if Draco needed his help to beat the shit out of something, then he was all in, but this magic shit was something else entirely. It still freaked him the hell out sometimes that Draco could do magic, but he thought that he hid it pretty well. It helped that Draco didn't go overboard with it around him. He could actually count on one hand the number of times that he had actually seen the guy do magic, and that included the first time.

Draco took to non-magical life like a kid took to Disneyland. Simple things like telly, or a movie theater got him as happy as a fat kid with a huge slice of chocolate cake, though he did his best to hide it around everyone else but Rico.

"Man, I know that something else is up. You should just tell me. I can't come out brandishing wands and shit, but I can still listen," Rico said quietly.

Draco paused mid-chew. "Can I ask a favor of you?" he said just as quietly.

"You know I got your back," Rico said in answer.

"If something happens to me, can you keep an eye out for my mum and Taryn?" he asked solemnly. "I wouldn't trust any other motherfucker with their safety, and that includes my dad."

"Of course, man, but are you sure? You know I don't have any magic or anything."

"That's one of the reasons why. I have some shit that I have to take care of, and If it doesn't go the way I want, I need to make sure that they are both is taken care of."

"Like I said, I have your back," Rico replied. He'd do anything needed to help his brother, even leaving the life he had build here if need be.

Sighing, Draco felt some of the constant tension in his shoulders abating. Pushing the pizza away, he pulled out a pen and paper, scratching down a few different account numbers. "If things go bad, they'll need some money. You guys might even have to leave the country."

"Fuck, man, don't even worry about..." Rico started. Now he was even more worried. What had his brother gotten himself into?

"No," Draco interrupted, "I have a lot of money. Other than my bike and the apartment, I've saved every bloody note I earned, and I don't want you to have to use your own money." He didn't add that he had planned to use the money to live on his own after graduation, to finally once and for all get away from the fake society shit. Maybe set his mom up in her own house if he could finally get her to leave his dickhead father.

"Alright," Rico agreed, sensing that it would become an argument if he didn't. He didn't like where this conversation was going at all. Draco seemed...almost defeated. Well, maybe not exactly defeated, but definitely resolved. He was still a cocky bastard, but the cockiness was definitely down a few notches, but this new attitude scared him. Draco was obviously planning for a world that would exist without him.