No. Draco thought to himself as he watched Hagrid lower Harry's lifeless body to the ground in the courtyard of Hogwarts. Goody-two shoes that he was, Draco still hadn't wanted Potter to die, especially as he had just saved his own life. It was embarrassing to have been saved by your own mortal enemy but then again, he'd rather be alive than consumed by Fiendfyre the way that Crabbe had been. Moron that he had been starting that blaze in the middle of a Room of Requirement, Draco was still sad that someone he'd shared so much of his life with was gone. That was the difference between him and Potter he supposed, Potter had put himself in further danger to rescue the three of them when really he'd have been better of letting him Crabbe and Goyle perish. Draco, on the other hand was more likely to throw his friends in the line of fire rather than try to save everyone - friend or foe. But looking at Potter's lifeless body made Draco feel guilty that he hadn't tried harder. Why did he get to live when Potter had given his life to stopping the Dark Lord? When his only contribution had been to further the spread of corruption and misery? Draco was at last getting a good long look in the mirror and he found that he really didn't like it.
As if in a dream, he looked around at the destruction of the castle, of the place that he had called home for 9 months of the year out of the last seven years. At the things that he had done there and his own beliefs that had led him to this moment. He wasn't on the right side at all and his cowardly nature had only exacerbated the issue. He wasn't proud of who he had become. He wasn't the person he had thought he was. He was on the wrong side of history and he would deserve any punishment he received. Was it too late to learn how to be brave?
Draco Malfoy strode into the hall of Malfoy Manor with a different swagger than he'd had all those years ago when he'd left. Five years of his life he'd spent chasing the person that he was without his family hanging over his head. He'd had his trust fund and the second that his trial had been over for his part in the Second Wizarding War he'd left England unsure when he'd return. He'd understood that he'd needed to experience life outside of his small world in order to grow into the person he wanted to be, even if Potter had turned out to have surived the killing curse for a second time. But his own cowardly nature had tried to stop him more than once which is why he'd left in the middle of the night without a word to either of his parents. He'd left them a note explaining that he'd needed to find who he was after the war and hadn't spoken to either of them since.
He wasn't sure of his reception but something in the last five years had given Draco a backbone that, whilst it wasn't always present, was strong enough he felt he could come home and start really living his life and being a productive member of society here in England rather than in the poorest parts of the world.
The sound of a crystal object smashing brought his eyes to the dining hall where his mother half stood from her chair, a crystal goblet smashed at her feet. A house-elf, one that Draco didn't know, scurried to pick up the shards whilst his mother stood there with her mouth half-open, clutching the edge of the table for support.
"'Hello, mother,' Draco said and strode toward the dining hall, hoping hewas ready to face whatever repercussions his actions had caused. He left his bag in the hall, not wanting to presume his presence was welcome. 'Draco,' his mother mouthed before she was cut off by his father.
'So, you have decided to return. A note would have been welcomed, your room has not been prepared.' His father didn't even look at him, just kept reading his paper. Some part of Draco shrivelled at the insult, for all the travelling that Draco had done, facing his father was still his worst nightmare. Their relationship, whatever strained version they had of it before Draco had started school, had become estranged the more grown up Draco had become. He had never been made to feel like his father was happy to see him and he'd been ridiculed by his own father more than once in front of others and his treatment of his son during the war... Over his absence he'd become aware that he'd emulated his father's behaviour with his schoolmates. He hadn't understood at the time that meaningful relationships were not formed this way and that the power of his name and the fear he invoked in his peers was not the way to creating true and lasting friendships. He'd made a real friend in the last five years, Neil, one with whom he had laughed and cried with. One with whom he'd shared bits of himself with and vice versa. A man whom he trusted to his very core and one with whom he'd broken down his distaste toward muggles - for Neil was a muggle, happy living his life without magic and in the poorest places of the world where he could help with the money that his family possessed. Neil had become the man that Draco wanted to be when he grew up.
His mother started toward him and Draco braced himself for more cold words but the look of love, dispair and hopeless longing in his mothers eyes changed his stance and he instead allowed his mother to hold him tight to her. 'Oh, Draco,' his mother whispered softly as tears slowly trickled down his face. 'I am so angry with you, but, oh, I am so very happy you are home safe.' She pushed him to arms length, studying his form and true sorrow broke out over her features as she realised how much her son had changed. 'You hold yourself differently, Draco, where have you been, what have you been up to? Do you need dinner?' His mother called out to the house-elf without taking her hands off her son, 'Solbey, fetch a fresh plate and golbet.' Draco watched the small creature disappear with a crack and refocused on his mother.
'Narcissa, I don't believe the boy needs coddling. He has managed quite well by the looks of it without you.'
His mother's face dropped. She slowly let go of Draco, but not before Draco caught her hands and squeezed. 'I am sorry mother. I am hoping that you will allow me to stay here but I understand if not. I have lots to explain and tell you.' His mother squeezed his hands back and gave him a small smile, 'of course, my love, this is your home.'
Draco didn't let it show on his face, but Malfoy Manor couldn't ever be his home again. Not after the atrocities that had been committed here. He was amazed that his parents had never moved but he supposed it was his ancestral home and worth more to his family that the money it would fetch. He seated himself at the place that Solbey had set up for him and thanked the house-elf who looked stunned to have been addressed with such words. His father finally glanced over the top of his paper to look directly at his son before returning to his newspaper. Draco ignored his father the way he would have ignored Dobby when he was twelve and dug into the serving bowls on the table.
'So,' his mother began, figdeting in her seat. Draco couldn't remember his mother fidgeting before, this was new and he studied his mothers face. It was drawn, pale and she'd lost weight in the years since he'd last seen her. He felt guilty that he'd left without speaking to her and hadn't contacted her since but he knew that it had been the right thing to do. If he'd never left, he'd have been married off by now and be living the same life that his parents had planned out for him. 'What are your plans? Are you staying or are you...' she trailed off, obviously not wanting to even voice the other possible outcombe of her son leaving again so soon.
Draco shifted in his seat and took a few mouthfuls as he went through his lines he'd rehursed for this moment. 'I've taken an assistant position at St. Mungo's in their research lab.' He'd been back in England for a number of weeks now but hadn't wanted to re-enter his parents home without having secured his future steps. He did not wish to become the Draco that had idolised his father as much as he'd feared him and followed him in all he did. He needed something to continue to develop his mind and he wanted to integrate with the Wizarding community, to get them to look past his shameful Death Eater days. His mother blinked at him and his father flipped his paper down.
'Why on earth would you take such a position? We Malfoy's do not take such lowly positions. Our name holds much influence in the Ministry and that is what we are meant to do, to influence policies in the interest of Wizards. You are not taking this assistant position.' And up the paper went again. Draco stopped chewing for a moment, here was the first test. Was he able to voice his own opinions to his parents? The little voice inside his head that told him he couldn't do such things was trying to convince him to remain quiet, but the fire that Neil had nurtured was equally as strong, if not more so because he had had to fight for it.
Quietly, Draco gave voice to his own thoughts. 'This position means a lot to me, to have been considered for it is an honour considering my reputation. I have spent the last five years working in conditions and with people who would benefit from such research, particularly healing potions for diseases that do not as yet have a cure either in the magical or muggle world.' He talked at his plate and felt shame that he could not look his father in the eye. 'You know that I studied Alchemy my last few years at Hogwarts, it has always been of great interest to me and to do nothing...' Draco trailed off, he didn't know how to say that he was ashamed of his views toward muggle-born just a few years ago and didn't know how to critise his parents views without causing an argument that he would retreat from.
His father stared at him. 'You dare to talk back after the heatache that you inflicted on your mother over these last five years? You are not starting that position and that is final.' Draco didn't reply, shoving his dinner in his mouth and berating himself about not being strong enough to stand up for what he believed in. Now that Neil was no longer by his side, he couldn't help but feel that he just wasn't good enough to do this by himself. He risked a glance at his mother who was pleading with him silently. He shook his head and looked away not wanting to promise anything. The food in his mouth suddenly tasted like ash and he rose from the table, his plate still half full - an insult to those that he had cared for daily and an indulgence that he hadn't realised was so full of priveledge until he'd left Malfoy Manor.
'I'm tired after traveling, I had to use muggle means for a lot of it and so I'm off to bed. Goodnight mother, father.' He left their disappointed looks behind him, glad that they hadn't questioned him further about where he had been and what he had been doing. Draco wasn't ashamed of what he had been doing but his parents would have not understood why he had chosen to work and live with muggles whilst caring for the same.
He retrieved his backpack from the entry hall and took the stairs two at a time up to his old room. His mother hadn't been lying, it was musty and stale - but better than the tent he'd shared with Neil. After opening the windows, striping and re-making the bed and unpacking his bag he stood by the window and wondered how Neil was getting on without him. He picked up the hand-held phone device that Neil had introduced him to - how muggles used this blasted technology all the time he didn't know - and painstakingly tapped out a message to him using the numbered keys one letter at a time. The phone had been referred to as a 'brick' by Neil more than once and he'd given it to him laughing 'a Nokia can withstand anything, so I'm hopeful it'll withstand your wizarding nonsense.' He'd shown Draco how to 'text', something that Draco had found fascinating watching Neil's thumbs move so quickly over the numbers pressing each digit sometimes pressing a digit more than once to get the right letter. He hadn't quite mastered it so his text of 'made it to my parents. first day tomorrow. hope all is well.' took him several minutes. He finally threw the phone back on the bed and went back to brooding out the window both dreading and looking forward to the next day.