Chapter Thirteen: Unlucky

Life cannot go for too long in one direction without a reminder that things do not always stay the same. Those on the quick ascent to the top will eventually meet with roadblocks, and those on a downward spiral will eventually have a ray of hope. When you spend the summer away, you always have to come back to school or work. And when you make new friends, it is not possible for you to spend all of your time with them, no matter how much you might want to.

Of course, this isn't Draco we're talking about. They weren't his friends.

Yet.

Or were they? Draco was confused. He was in over his little blond head. He'd never made this many friends at one time in his entire lifetime.

Of course, he had an entire lifetime left to live. Maybe this was preparation for the time in the future when he would become intensely popular.

Yeah, that's right.

It was a weekend, and he didn't have any work to do. Somehow, this made him feel sort of lost.

He wandered around the Manor, uncertain of what he was doing, past his father's old study gathering dust, down the long hallway with all his ancestors' portraits.

Standing in front of centuries of Malfoys, all of them watching with disapproving and haughty expressions on their painted mouths, he wondered at how the hallway made you feel so small. The history imbued in this place was so present that he could feel it pressing on him, pushing him as if it could force him to his knees.

He walked past them all, and he did his best to keep his head high.

Not even a Malfoy could make this Malfoy bow his head again.

One step at a time, and he was out of that hallway, down a flight of delicate stairs, and out into the garden.

He liked this place, because it was one of the few spots in the Manor that did not hold unhappy memories for him. It was simply a garden- no matter how much land it covered, how impressive it was, it held nothing to fear.

Draco stood over the pond, rippling faintly with the changing air, and looked upon its surface. In it, silhouetted by the sun, was his reflection, and he studied it carefully for a few moments.

The water twisted and moved back on itself, ripping in complicated little patterns, sometimes obscuring his face. But when it was clear, it showed someone who was very clearly Draco. Not a Malfoy. Not a Slytherin. Not a coward, not a bully, not a murderer.

The person in the pond simply…. Was. Without fault and without doubt.

And there he stood, complacent, confusing the Draco standing and looking in.

There were a few lines on his face, a few scars. The circles under his eyes were gone.

Is that something he should feel guilty about?

He did, when he came across his mother by the roses.

She was sitting with her spine as straight as was humanly possible, hands folded in her lap, contemplating a pile of pale pink petals in her lap.

The roses here were always blooming, his mother saw to that. She loved to sit by them, and Draco often found her sitting here when she had wanted to be alone, but she would always happily hoist him onto her lap and listen.

So, this time, he sat down and listened.

Narcissa was alone but for Draco, and she'd resigned herself to the fact.

It wasn't that she missed Lucius, exactly, more that she missed always having someone to talk to, to turn to, and on his most sympathetic days, someone who understood her.

Draco would never be free of that guilt.

But instead of moping, and hiding, and breaking things, he decided on a different course of action.

To tell his mother everything would hurt her, and he instantly resolved not to do so, a desire not to hurt anyone ever again born from a side of himself that he didn't know existed before now.

Instead of speaking, he wrote a quick note, before he could lose his nerve and decide that it was most definitely not a good idea.

Dear Hermione, (the note read),

Two things.

Do you think that Mrs. Tonks would like to see my mother, one of these days? Could you please find out and get back to me? It would mean a lot to me if you would help me out. I would even, maybe, owe you a favor. Maybe. I make no promises that could lead to my impending doom.

Regards,

Draco.

P.S. And do you think that you would like to see me?

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Draco quickly discovered that looking out of the window repeatedly for an owl did not make the owl get there any faster. No matter how many times he looked to make sure he didn't miss it, it simply was not there.

This quickly became very frustrating.

What was she doing that was more important than replying to him?

He paced his room, and paced, and paced and paced and paced and-

Tap, tap, tap.

Draco had a most unmanly reaction to this noise at his window. Thankfully, nobody was around to see him spin rapidly around, flail as if set upon by Wrackspurts, slip, and hit the floor with a most undignified thud.

His owl, watching calmly from its perch outside the window, was laughing at him. Draco was sure of it.

He picked himself up off the floor, crossed to the window, and let the owl in. It gracefully hopped in, flew to his bed, deposited the letter, and looked at him.

It was mocking him.

Ever gracious, Draco gave it a treat, and let it head on its way to their owlery.

Then he stared at the letter on his bed, an innocuous piece of parchment, which he was sure was going to bite him, or worse, as soon as he tried to open it.

He edged towards his bed. Then tiptoed a little further.

Just do it, Draco, he chided himself.

He lunged for the bed.

With a face full of his bedcovers, he somehow managed to open the letter and read it, not bothering to move.

Dear Draco,

Andromeda would be delighted to see your mother if Narcissa is willing. I suspect that Andromeda is lonely as well, since she lost most of her family in the final battle. Did you want to surprise your mother or did you have a plan there?

I might have to use that favor in the near future. I promise no doom is in store for you.

-Hermione

P.S. Sure, I'd like to see you. When?

….

If Narcissa had walked by Draco dancing gleefully around his bedroom holding a letter, she made no comment of it the next morning, for which he was intensely grateful.

He wrote back with extreme haste.

Hermione,

Thank you, thank you, and thank you!

I want it to be a surprise. Could you arrange for Andromeda to meet us to have tea, and I'll meet you there with my mother? Let me know what day she decides on.

Now you're just making me curious.

-Draco

P.S. Perhaps we might go for lunch after the aforementioned surprise?

P.P.S. I eagerly await your reply.

A/N:

Well, considering, that wasn't too long of a gap between updates.

I thought that Angsty-Draco should make a reappearance, because there were some things that should not be forgotten.

Also, if Draco's life is improving, so should Narcissa's. It's only fair.

To my reviewers:

KodeV: Draco is a very interesting character to get into the head of. He's so very human. And the things that he's gone through bring out lots of emotions to play with. Thank you so much for your continued support! And I'm glad that I managed to make you smile. I hope that you're having a better week so far!

Honoria Granger: I agree. Draco and Narcissa are characters who are largely untapped, and very relatable. I hope I continue to please! I plan to keep this story going until the plot has played out in my head. And yes, I have considered becoming an author because I love to write, but we shall see. Are you really? Is it lots of fun?

Mother Midnight: And here you go.

Guest: Thank you as well!

Silvermoon Wolf: I like my tea very much, and it kind of sprung up in this chapter, haha. But I think it's an interesting representation of their characters. And yes, Draco is lots of fun when he's in denial. Does the pond count as a mirror? It will definitely come back.

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.

See you soon!

-Isefyr