Chapter 147:

Reassessing the Future

Grant unlocked the floo, allowing his boyfriend access with the batch of fresh balm, straight from Malfoy Manor. His eyes widened at the size of the trunk.

"It isn't all for here," Theo said, gently setting the trunk down and giving Grant a kiss.

"Ah. Longbottom then?"

Theo nodded. "The herbology store. He's coming to pick it up."

"Noted. Help me restock the shelf?" Grant asked, even as he watched Theo unlock the trunk.

"How is she doing?"

"Tired and recovering, but fine."

"And with this?" he asked, gesturing to the trunk.

"Overwhelmed, I believe, but fine. Surprised at how well it's selling."

"Why? From what you've told me, she should know better than anyone that it works well."

"Having it work well, having it work for her, is different than seeing it sold en masse."

"That is a fair point," Grant conceded slowly.

"How much does Longbottom know?"

"A fair amount. Just be careful when you're in public places on what you say."

"I will."

A knock on the door startled the men. They turned in time to see the person they'd been discussing. Grant moved to unlock the door only enough to let Longbottom in. They weren't open yet, after all.

"Come in," he greeted with a firm handshake. "Theo arrived not too long ago. Enough for both of us."

"I'm aware. He instructed me to come now, to avoid being seen. To help reduce how many see us all together, and where the supplies are coming from."

Coming over to look at the trunk, Neville's eyes widened. "That's more than I thought."

"It's to allow for some backstock. It may be a short while before she feels up to making more."

Neville looked up sharply. "Is she alright?"

Theo glanced at his boyfriend briefly before answering. "She's safe. That's all I can say here."

The former Gryffindor nodded. "Right. I'll…stop by again soon. Best get these delivered then. How does the money work?"

"The store will take the predetermined cut, you get a small cut for being the intermediary, and the rest you deliver discreetly back to Malfoy," Grant explained, taking the last few jars from his portion from the trunk, before securely closing it for transport.

"Thanks," he said again, firmly shaking both men's hands before leaving.

"He's not half bad," Nott commented.

Grant scoffed. "He never was."

Draco pressed cool compresses to his servant's inflamed back. She stirred, blinking against the dim light.

"Sir?"

"Just me," he confirmed.

"That feels good. Thank you."

"Certainly."

"There's something you should know."

"Before you tell me whatever information you have, tell me an assessment of how you're feeling."

"Sore and tired, Sir. But fine. or I will be, at any rate."

"How bad is the soreness this time, the pain?"

"It's almost…worse now that he's even more limited in what he can do, and how often he has access."

"Ariella, you know what I'm asking. Stop giving me roundabout answers."

She flinched as the bond stung, but nodded against the pillow. "It isn't that bad. Feels more like harsh bruising than anything else. I don't know how much I'll be able to do over the next few days, but it shouldn't take me too long to recover this time. Especially since you're treating them now."

"Take as long as you need."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now, what information do you have?"

"Your father's sentence is being altered."

"Pardon?"

"For his final year or so, he's going to be let out of Azkaban and put on strict house arrest instead."

"Why?"

"Not sure. I don't have more details."

"I'll see what I can find out. Thank you for telling me."

"He told me. Almost…taunted me with it."

"We have time. Try not to stress about it right now."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm serious. We have time and we'll handle it same as we always do."

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else I can do right now?"

"No thank you. I'm fine."

"Ariella." She could hear the warning in his voice.

"Order me to sleep? Please?"

"Certainly. I'm headed out shortly, but I'll check in when I get back. Don't strain yourself."

"Thank you, Sir."

Gently, he laid a cooling blanket over her back before giving the requested order and finally sliding out of the room.

Forty-five minutes later, Draco entered The Three Broomsticks. While he still got the occasional raised eyebrow or death glare, they'd been less frequent…here, at least. Glancing around, he was surprised not to see Astoria waiting for him near their usual booth. He noticed a barmaid clearing it and moved to sit before anyone else could take the table. He still preferred being by the door, just in case. Before the barmaid could move away, he ordered two butterbeers for the table.

Glancing down at his wrist to check the time, he looked up again as he felt someone slide into the booth. He frowned as he realized it wasn't Astoria.

"Harley."

"Haslin," the other corrected. "You waiting on Greengrass?"

"What do you want, Haslin?"

"She told me you're dating now. I remember your reputation from before…"

"And what's it to you? She mentioned you grew close during the…war year and after, but – "

" – we did," he confirmed. "While we aren't directly related, we did grow to rely on each other. Protect each other."

"I'm not looking to hurt her. Whatever my reputation may have been, I've never cheated."

"Why do you think you're – "

" – Sorry I'm la – Haslin? What are you doing?" Astoria said, slightly breathless as she came in the door.

The boys exchanged a glance. "Just keeping him company until you arrived."

Astoria crossed her arms, staring at him until he rose.

"Let me know if he gives you any trouble, yeah?"

"I'm fine," she insisted.

With one final glance at Malfoy, Haslin walked away.

"Sorry about him."

"Not at all; glad to see someone's protective of you."

"I don't need protecting from you though," she insisted, causing him to give her a small, rare smile. "Thank you," she said then as the barmaid placed the butterbeers in front of them.

After taking a sip of his drink, Draco asked, "any idea what you want to do next year?"

"What I want to do or what my parents want from me?" she muttered, before shaking her head. "Sorry, Draco. That was rather rude."

"Nonsense. I understand."

"I'm sure you do," she replied, not unkindly. "That doesn't make that comment right."

"It's forgotten except for how you choose to answer. I'll hear both if you want to share."

"My parents want me to follow tradition. Finish school and start…or continue, rather, looking for a husband. Settle down and start a family."

"Ah. I see. And…what is it you want?"

"Honestly? It's not that I mind the thought of what they want. I just want a job, too. For a few years, at least."

"What type of job?"

"I'd like to work with artifacts," she admitted. "Preserving them and bringing their history forward. Showing the importance of such artifacts and heirlooms."

"Interesting. Well, when you get the job, doors of Malfoy Manor are open if you're interested."

Tilting her head, she glanced at him, brow furrowed. "It doesn't bother you?"

"What doesn't bother me? That you want a job? Besides the fact that it isn't really my place to say, no. It doesn't."

"I – well, I thought it might, given your family is even more deeply steeped in tradition than mine," she clarified.

"Ah. No. I agree – some traditions are still important and should be kept, but that doesn't mean they all should. And you aren't snubbing those traditions; you'd be working to preserve them. While I'm…glad you asked my opinion, it doesn't truly matter right now. We're just dating."

"We are, but I graduate soon. It's a pretty big decision I have to make. I'm…thank you. For honestly supporting me."

Reaching under the table, so no one else could see, he grabbed her hand and squeezed.