"Sorted Too Young"

Dumbledore tells Snape, "Sometimes, Snape, I think we sort them too young."

CHAPTER 8 – BIRTH & DEATH

Draco was not used to putting himself in other people's shoes. It was easier to feel at least not alone in the horrors of life. He isn't the only one who has been abused. He isn't the only one who lost everything. The common ground made it easier, easier to understand, easier to know how someone else felt. It also made it easier to know what to say and how to be around them because he knew what he wanted said to himself and how he wanted people to be around him. This proved to be a turning point for Draco Malfoy.

Be the change, my son.

He improved daily with the walking on his hideous cane. It was as ugly and bland as they came. He couldn't exactly expect Arthur Weasley to have any taste in accessories. The man couldn't even match his socks. Draco didn't complain though. He knew he could change the cane later for something more to his style. For now, it served a purpose, to get him mobile so he didn't look like a crippled ass when he did eventually venture into the public. One day he would have to do that, come out of hiding and face the real world.

For now, he accepted a cup of tea graciously from Molly. It was his birthday and the morning sunrise seemed remarkably beautiful. He found himself wishing Hermione was there to see it with him. She was out with Harry preparing something important or cleaning up some dark magic mess as they had been almost every day. Molly wished him a happy birthday, but did not make a fuss over him. She had learned how uncomfortable such fusses were for him. He wondered when that change happened in his life. He used to be such a spoiled child that revelled in parental fussing. Somewhere, he grew up, he supposed.

She was baking him a cake though. So some fussing would happen anyways. It made him miss the sweets his mother always sent him.

Being among the Weasleys drove home so many differences and tugged at him to be especially gentlemanly in his behaviour. It was all he really had left of himself and his old life. He thought often about the lessons his mother taught him about manners and employed them perfectly and often. His father's lessons were more social and meant for when in public. He needed to evaluate them before he employed them.

Draco sipped his tea and watched the sun warm the flowers in the front fields. Molly came to stand beside him. "What is troubling you, dear?"

Draco frowned and thought that it must be her mother's instinct to just know these things. "I made my mother a promise that I don't know how to keep."

"And what promise is that?" she asked casually.

He sipped his tea before replying. "To be the change… the change we dreamed of or the change the world needs, whatever that means."

"Why not start with yourself? All changes start first from within. Then with the choices you make." She suggested lightly as she walked back to check the cake. Draco concluded that she was this wise because she had so many children and has likely had to work through so many different situations with them as they grew to adulthood.

Harry and Hermione apparated onto the front porch.

"Time for you to go, dear," announced Molly. Draco looked at her totally confused then back out the window. "We'll meet you there soon."

Ron was guided groggily by his father to the front door. The younger was dressed but far from awake.

Just as Draco was thinking how he didn't want to look like a destitute crippled ass in public, here he was being directed out the door into the public before he felt he was really steady enough to look distinguished.

Arthur apparated away with Ron leaning on his shoulder. Other Weasley's were coming out and apparating away. Draco stood, leaning heavily on the cane and picking at his clothing. It was not a suit. It was not silk or cashmere or fine tweed or twill. He was dressed too casually to be seen in public. He wished he had more notice, more warning. Harry waved at him and whispered something to Hermione. "What? Harry! How could you forget it? Go… go… I'll take him. Geez Harry," She rolled her eyes as Harry apparated away.

He watched her approach the front porch. "I am not exactly decently dressed," he tried to excuse himself from whatever trip into the world everyone had planned.

"So? Go get decently dressed. Better yet, throw over a cloak and we will take a short trip into town to Diagon Alley. I assume you have your own accounts and know where to get clothes you like? Then you can look as smart as you always have," she suggested.

He hoped she did not see the color rise up his neck to his cheeks. Molly stepped out and draped a cloak over his shoulders having overheard the conversation. He made an awkward face when Molly kissed his cheek as she did to all her children, even the somewhat adopted ones like Harry and Hermione. Hermione covered her smirk and giggle with her hand. He tried to make another protest about not ready for so much walking only to be countered with the statement that he needed the exercise and practice. There was no way out, or rather back in to hiding.

On the plus side, he would have an opportunity to find out the state of his finances.

Hermione stepped right up close to him and put her arm around his waist. He stiffened and blushed. "Sorry, I am still not used to apparating others. I don't ever want to go through seeing someone splinched."

He winced. "Who got splinched?"

"Ron, back in the war."

Draco was a master at apparating. If only he had his wand, then this would not be necessary. "You won't splinch me. Here." He adjusted their position. "Apparating takes in a three foot diameter. When you are picturing the location you want to be, picture both of us clearly in your mind already safely in that place, then apparate." He hoped his instructions were good. They were much like the ones his mother had given him while helping practice apparating. "An always tell the person you are apparating to exhale. The dumb ones sometimes end up having a scream ripped from them and that could be very humiliating."

She nodded at his instruction and closed her eyes. He was not remotely worried about being splinched. She was the brightest witch of this era. Even if they had not gotten along in the past seven years, he knew she could do any magic she set her mind to, and do it with perfection and precision. What made him nervous was the scene they were going to apparate to. Who would see him dressed in casual clothes that the average commoner wore. It would be like being caught in the middle of rush hour at the stock exchange in your pyjamas. He took a deep breath and let it out, then firmly curled his fingers around her small wrist to tell her he was ready.

The lurch and pop was familiar. He still felt like his stomach got left behind, but he recovered swiftly. They stood in the midst of a ruined alleyway full of brick and rubble. The destroyed entry to Diagon Alley. But he did not see Diagon Alley. She tapped a few stones, new ones to the ones he knew, and the way in materialized. It was busy. His nerves jumped at the potential humiliation. He pulled the hood of the cloak up to hide under. Maybe no one would notice. He worried what people might think. Would they remember the foul git that tormented their children, became a Death eater, the son of a man from the Dark lord's inner circle, a young man who attempted to kill Dumbledore? Did anyone know or care what he did in the final and last ditch efforts to redeem himself? Hermione took his hand and tugged him along. They hobbled slowly toward Gringgot's. Many of the shops were in varying states of repair. He kept his head bowed in shame at his participation in these terrible things.

As he climbed the stairs one painful step at a time, he tried to remember which businesses he had a personal hand in ruining. The name of Malfoy would be a foul one on everyone's lips for a long time unless he could do something to remedy that. But what? How? There was so much. Inside the bank he revealed himself to the goblin at the desk. There he sat for an hour with the goblin sorting out his own accounts, the Malfoy estate accounts, and his family inheritance. He was glad Hermione was not present to overhear this. Sums of money of this magnitude discussed in light talk like this would make her head spin. At least Malfoy was still one of the wealthiest old pure blood families in existence. Black was the other, although most of the Black family funds were locked until a proper blood heir gave blood proof to access them. Harry didn't qualify. The goblin asked Draco if he was going to make that claim. It took a second or two to realize that he was indeed the next blood related male in the Black family, being the son of Narcissa (Black) Malfoy. He declined, "Not at the moment. Let it sit there. I need to re-evaluate a great many things before I touch it." It was tempting though. To unite the Black and Malfoy estates would make him the wealthiest wizard in England, maybe even Europe.

For now, he took out enough galleons to turn Hermione white with shock, not that he would show her or tell her. He also advised that the goblins please inspect the financial debts of the Weasley family and secretly clear them from his accounts. It was a small thank you. He really had no way to properly show his gratitude for what they did for him. He also knew that they were proud enough that if he offered them this token they would refuse it.

Today was his birthday. If no one was going to get him a birthday present, he would get himself one, or rather several. Hermione sequestered herself in the book store to drool over texts she desperately wanted to own and try to devour as much as she could while she waited for him to be done his shopping. First was proper attire. Once well dressed, he felt much better, despite the growing agony in his knee. In a way this was like being born all over again. He had an opportunity to dress as he saw fit and not as his father decreed. The turtleneck he wore was tight and made of silk, though up close you would see it slightly swirled through dark blues and greens with the black. The vest under his new suit jacket was shades of aqua with silver and white gold embroidery. His suit jacket remained simple dull black so the other attire showed off subtly. A pale aqua silk handkerchief was tucked into the pocket of the jacket. His trousers were of the same make as the jacket. His shoes were brogue pattered matt black dragon skin. The wizard over cloak he chose was also simple in its cut and of a dull black outside, charmed against the weather, and black satin on the inside. His mother would love to see him this stylish. His father would call him a peacock unworthy of the Malfoy name. He sniffed at his rebellion.

His next item of business was a new cane and a wand. A wand was out of the question. Olivander's was still closed. A wand then would have to wait. The cane then. The shop had a great many canes to select from. But for some reason, none appealed to him. Hermione's chastising words kept coming back into his thoughts. He decided to simple modify the cane he had been given. He had the handle transfigured to be more comfortable for him to hold. He has a silencing charm engraved around the bottom so he didn't hear it thump or click on the floor, a sound that still sent him into anxiety, even when he was the one making the sound. Those were the only changes. It was a salute to Arthur for helping Draco.

Now he needed to sit as the pain was becoming unbearable. He sat on a bench was watched through the window across the way as Hermione paced with a book in her hand. He tried to remain stoic was people walked passed him and eyed him with recognition. No one spoke to him though. His skin crawled with the mix of uncomfortable stares. When he could stand it no longer, he entered the book shop and sought out Hermione. "Wow! You clean up nice!" she commented. She gave the book a disappointed look and reached to replace it on the shelf.

He stopped her hand and plucked it from her fingers. "My mother raised me to be a gentleman with taste."

The look she then gave him stabbed painfully as did the words, "wish you had shown that growing up."

"Ouch! You wound."

She smirked and followed him to the cash counter. "What are you doing?"

"Buying this," he stated flatly as he paid for the book she was so deeply engrossed in.

"It is your birthday. You shouldn't be buying other people things."

He handed her the book, "I will do what pleases me on my birthday and it pleases me to buy this for you. And now it will please me to find coffee and some chocolate sweets of quality."

She chuckled behind her fingers and accepted the gift. Draco was sure that her one and only love was books and no man would ever be able to truly compete. No wonder she and Ron broke it off. He did not have enough of an appreciation of that which held her heart and mind.

They sat in a café that was newly built after buying some of the most expensive sweets she had ever even seen. A galleon a truffle! She protested and he insisted. There was something amazing about watching her enjoy one with total wonderment. He didn't realize he was smiling while watching her till she mentioned it, "You should smile more often." Why she had to rip out the rug of confidence so easily from under him, he had no idea. She seemed to have been a master of that tactic through the years. "Do you like your birthday so far?"

He found himself smiling again, "Yes. Thank you for taking me out. It isn't as bad as I thought it would be. Well, except for the pain. That's starting to get distracting."

"We'll go after this. Everyone should be ready by now."

"Go? I really hope no one is throwing me a party or anything," that notion really made him feel both guilty and scared and lonely.

"No, this is not a party, just something well overdue." She apparated them to a small field he recognized. The Weasleys were all present. Harry and Luna and some other people he didn't recognize. Children ran over the grass or flopped on picnic blankets.

He scanned the grounds. It was the part of the gardens of Malfoy Manor close to both the garden maze, bush sculptures, and the family cemetery. He felt an ice cube drop into his stomach.

Hermione took his arm again. "These people are those who hold you close like family and those whose lives you saved. This part of the grounds have been rendered safe. They figure that by next Christmas, though more likely next summer, the house will be safe too. An auror died just walking on the front steps."

Of course the auror died. The dark Lord had been so furious with the Malfoy failings that he ruined and cursed the house so badly that it would probably kill a Malfoy. He sighed at the reality chack. And yet, here he was, walking on the grass of his home. Hermione guided him through the garden. He forgot the pain in his knee when he realized where she had guided him. Harry stood there beside the stone marker. A grave. Draco's mothers.

Draco limped over to the grave, the world and people around him forgotten as well. He touched the stone and read the epitaph:

Narcissa Black Malfoy
Loving wife and mother
1955 – 1998

A mother's love is the most powerful of ancient magic.
It can save a life and alter the course of the future.
Never underestimate the heroism of a mother
who loves her son.

Draco's hand covered his mouth to try to quiet the shaking that came into his breathing. He sank to his knees, regardless of the pain, dropping the cane. He was given space and to grieve. Harry and Hermione waited. When he felt more in control, he wiped his face and nose with the silken handkerchief. He stood with some help and accepted the cane from Hermione's hand. From birth to death in one day. It felt much like apparating for the first time.

Harry held out a box. "Luna couldn't do anything from where she had stood on the opposing stair case, but she watched. You mother had given up her wand willingly before she ever intercepted any of your father's magic. He has no power over this."

Draco opened the box to discover, "My mother's wand."

"I think she meant Luna to find it and so meant you to have it," Harry explained.

Draco swallowed as he shifted his weight to his stronger leg. "Th-thank you." He hesitated to test it out. A glance back at his mother's grave and he chose to test it there. A small flick and transfiguration charm and her favourite day lilies bloomed at her grave.

The three of them walked slowly to the picnic blankets to share tea and birthday cake with everyone gathered. There were no other gifts, but Draco didn't need or want any. He already had more than he could have ever wished for in this moment. Friends, real friends. Closure. And hope for a future however uncertain it might be.

Also, he had the pleasure of being present for a great many cheers when Bill and Fleur announced Fleur's pregnancy.

A/N: Please review. Reviews keep writers writing.