Hi! I hope you all had a good Monday. I'm so glad you all enjoyed the last chapter! As for Draco's scars from Harry: eh, I considered it, but I always figured with how the Malfoys seemed to care about being more pretty and how Draco was with healing potions (in my story) and with his mother I figured he'd have ways to get rid of the scars if they were not already prevented once it happened. Especially since it would be a reminder of Harry Potter getting the better of him. I don't know, I feel like people leave those scars there to have a meaningful effect in stories, but whenever I read about it I just sort of grimace because it was a schoolboy fight as opposed to if he was scarred by other means (yes, you can probably make the fight sound really profound and a huge deal if you wanted, but still for me it's eh). Maybe I'm being petty, but I don't want my Draco scarred by Harry. ;) As for Edric: he's always been worried about his sisters, and throughout the marriage he's been pretty haunted about it, but it's probably much different being faced with it and actually seeing it. He did have an idea of what his absence would cause, which is why he was about to change his mind before Freya came and kind of finalized everything. I'm so glad everyone liked the sweeter scene between Draco and Astoria! I get so excited when I see new reviewers! Welcome to the little fic group we have around this story. I love you all. Not a terribly exciting chapter, but here it is anyway. Happy reading!
I don't own anything from Harry Potter.
"Well. It's a ladies' day apparently," Freya quipped, sitting gracefully on one of Draco's armchairs after eyeing the Aurors in front of her.
Draco didn't pay any mind to the names of the accompanying Auror women, sitting himself down reluctantly. Lately they hadn't had too many new questions, and Draco was usually able to ignore them to a point, but he was sure with a new face they would want to speak more than they had in recent meetings.
Perfect.
"Mrs. Greengrass. I can see where Astoria gets some of her looks. She has a beautiful mother," Granger offered.
"Ah, yes. My looks. My greatest accomplishment."
"Your family is one of the pure-blood families that went into hiding. I'm surprised you would come here after it was your daughter who suggested Adrian Pucey remain at home once he came back."
"Adrian Pucey was not in hiding, Miss Granger, and I do have to check on my children occasionally. I may not ever win mother of the year, but what would I look like if I simply abandoned them?"
"Hermione, Mr. Greengrass works with the Ministry all of the time. He's a trusted man," the smaller Auror closest to Granger said, her tone filled with admiration. Draco's nose wrinkled at the girl who obviously had some sort of attraction for the older, unnerving wizard.
Freya arched a brow at the girl, an amused smirk gracing her lips. "Indeed he is."
Hermione threw the girl a half scowl, her lips pursing. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Greengrass. I'm afraid I'm not as familiar with your husband as Amy is."
"Don't look at me like that," the girl, Amy apparently, grumbled. "He's a very respectable man. I was only informing you."
The taller Auror snorted and nudged her mockingly. "His wife is right there. Don't be shameless."
"I'm sorry," Granger said, her eyelids fluttering irritably as she looked away from the women beside her. "They are new. There is some professionalism that seems to still need a bit of work."
"Oh, pish posh. I am perfectly fine with my husband's fan club expressing their praise for him. I will control my jealous rage," Freya expressed, her tone sugary. "Bit old for you though isn't he, Amy? You know, what women are attracted to is so fascinating to me. At school I found the girls outside of our adorable little pure-blood community were quite drawn to our men. Yes, my husband is rather handsome I suppose, but then there are the girls who just fancy men who are obviously horrible for them. I'd imagine it's harder for us to see the appeal because these are our men, and it's different when your futures actually depend on them and their dark ways about things. Tell me, Miss Granger, what kind of darkness are you into?"
Draco chuckled under his breath knowingly, recalling plenty of the girls Freya was referring to, all of them entirely all too eager to experience the darkness the woman was suggesting.
"Oh, Mrs. Greengrass, I wouldn't consider your husband one of those men," the smaller Auror said, sounding embarrassed as she blushed. "I didn't mean to sound as if I was thinking about your husband inappropriately. Where is he right now?"
"Business I suppose. Perhaps he's off with one of the relatives he has floating around. I don't know, and I don't particularly care."
"Hello, Astoria," Granger said brightly, her voice sounding tight with her frustration towards her colleague. "Good morning! You look well."
Draco looked up to see his wife dressed and fully well together as she greeted the Aurors with her usual false warmness before she greeted her mother, coming to sit by his side once she was finished with her pleasantries.
"Hmm. She's looked better. Astoria, it's good you've finally decided to wake up and make something of the day. We were just discussing men and the kind of men we fancy. Perfect girl talk, no? I feel as if I'm gossiping in the Common Room again with all of my girl friends again," Freya said cheerfully, though Draco could sense an underlying tone of mocking.
"Didn't you only have one 'girl friend', Mrs. Greengrass?" Draco asked dully, entirely uninterested in this female nonsense that he was about to be subjected to.
"Draco! I had no idea you knew so much about me. Has your mother been telling you that I was particularly disliked? Tsk, now. That's not a very nice reputation she is spreading about me."
"Not at all, Freya. She only has lovely things to say about you," Draco replied. It was mostly true at least.
"Malfoy," Granger said sharply and he felt his lip curl slightly as he regarded her coolly, nearly sneering at the annoyingly fierce look in her eyes. "You are talking about Narcissa as if you have seen her."
"Mmm. Am I? Well, I don't know where they are, Granger. They are in hiding, do you really think my mother foolish enough to allow me the knowledge of where they are staying knowing full well you people would be down my throat? Am I not allowed to speak of my mother at all?"
Astoria sighed beside him, resting her hand on his leg gently, almost warningly. "Hermione. Draco loves his parents very much, and I assure you it is hard not knowing of their well-being. We wish we knew where they were," his wife expressed worriedly, looking up at Draco sadly in her little show she was putting on for the Aurors.
"Well, his parents are breaking the law, Astoria," Granger said evenly, taking a breath after she spoke as she seemed to show an understanding for his wife's words.
"They are not breaking the law if they were not aware they were meant to stay for your useless little investigations before they fled."
"Malfoy. Don't be difficult. You know full well-"
"Do not tell me what I know," Draco cut her off dismissively. "Only I know what I know."
"Come now, children!" Freya interjected, smoothing the skirt of her dress as she scolded them gently. "I thought we were talking about boys."
"I don't know if Draco would find it appropriate for me to participate, mother," Astoria replied, watching her mother without any expression.
"I'm well aware of the type of man you fancy, love," he told his wife, examining the front of her.
"It's perfectly fine, Astoria. I'm more interested in these ladies' tastes for our men."
"Mrs. Greengrass, I don't know if this is really-"
"Nonsense. Unless you have some groundbreaking new questions for Draco and my daughter I see no reason for dull small talk. Believe me, I get enough of that," Freya cut her off, waving her hand.
Granger considered her for a moment before shaking her head slowly as she thought of what to say. "I never really understood the desire for those type of men, Mrs. Greengrass. 'Your men', as you say. Though, I really would encourage you seeing beyond the men in your circle. I don't know your husband, but I hope you do not feel confined to someone who doesn't treat you as well as you should."
"Hermione, it's not as if Aldrich is like Malfoy," Amy muttered to Granger and Draco narrowed his eyes, smiling coldly.
"Funny. I've had plenty of nice girls want me. What house were you in? I'm sure I've had some of your friends."
"Malfoy that is a completely unnecessary thing to say," Granger huffed, straightening her papers. "Astoria was considerate of your feelings and yet you are unable to show her the same courtesy."
"I don't mind it, Hermione. I'm quite aware of the amount of women my husband had as toys. I'm confident in myself enough not to be bothered," Astoria sniffed, eyeing the shorter Auror girl who insisted on praising her father.
"Toys," Granger said slowly. "That's a bit.. Well, I wouldn't use that word choice."
"You wouldn't, Miss Granger, but our men surely do," Freya said dismissively. "Well, men in general really. Let's not pretend yours are perfect gentlemen all of the time."
"They refer to you as a toy?"
"We're trophies. Not toys. Though, yes there is a question if there is truly a difference. They certainly are not careful about breaking us, as they can easily replace as if we're toys."
"And do you feel as if your husband sees you as someone replaceable?"
Freya smiled, sitting back. "No. I do not. Only a fool would think that, and my husband is an intelligent man."
"I am happy to hear you are confident in yourself, Mrs. Greengrass. Sometimes I worry your daughter is having an issue in that area."
"Do you not realize you humiliate her when you speak of her as if she is a child, Granger?" Draco drawled, feeling his wife tense beside him.
"My daughter knows what she is worth, and Draco makes a very good point. No one likes to be pitied. Be careful with that."
Granger took a deep breath before she seemed to drop the issue, glancing at Astoria for a moment to gauge her reaction in which she gave none aside from what Draco could feel from her tense legs.
"Yes, nice girls do tend to be drawn to the bad boys, don't they? Hmm. Well, you know what they say about the other side and the shade of their grass," Freya mused, going back to the topic of men much to Draco's displeasure.
"Or to put it more appropriately they just want what isn't theirs," Astoria said coldly, staring forward.
"I thought you weren't bothered by it, Astoria?" Hermione asked her gently, tilting her head.
"It isn't me she's bothered by, Granger," Draco said, watching his wife in his peripheral vision.
"Or perhaps they can give our men more than you can and you ought to work on yourself, darling. Bitterness doesn't become you."
"I'm sure that's not it, Mrs. Greengrass. Your daughter is a more than lovely girl whose school records show evidence in her being an excellent witch as well."
"Have you ever been degraded, Miss Granger? Or 'bullied', I suppose? Have you ever been made to publicly cry or run off in shame?"
"I.." Granger frowned, glancing at Draco. "Yes."
"Mhm. I raised my children wanting to make them cry before anyone else could. You're allowed to cry, you have more than just your pride. You're looking at Draco because he has humiliated you, no? The difference between you and my daughter is that you get to run away and hide in your little friends' arms, so a bit of advise from me to you would be to stop comparing us as if we are the same."
"If she wants to run away then-"
"I don't want to run away," Astoria said softly. "I'm also right here, as is my husband who you are speaking negatively about in his own home."
"It's hard to understand a world you are not a part of, I'm afraid," Freya sighed dramatically. "And I don't see myself ever wearing those shoes of yours to walk a mile in them. They're quite horrible, I'm sorry to say."
"Umm.. Mrs. Greengrass," the taller Auror who had mocked her partner started. "Maybe you could help us with another issue. Aren't we putting a lot of attention on the Notts, Hermione? From what I've heard they were close in school.. When Voldemort's support really started to form."
"Were you?" Granger asked, perking up with interest. "Can you tell us what you witnessed?"
"A lot of attention on the Notts," Freya tsked. "Meaning what exactly? You wish to imprison them? Joseph's loyalty to Voldemort during the wars was excused once he gave himself up and offered his assistance in finding those who ran after the war, no?"
"Yes, though I don't believe that was a fair trade at all, as well as Lucius, but.. Well. He is certainly being considered for what has been happening recently."
"I see," Freya said thoughtfully. "Alright. Yes, I knew of his involvement. We were quite close. I don't think he is behind the recent attacks, however. Have you seen him? He looks quite finished with everything."
"And you didn't.. Say anything.. To anyone?" Granger said slowly, watching Freya carefully. "Even though you knew he was involved with what he was involved with?"
"And why would I do that, Miss Granger?"
"Because, well.. For obvious reasons," she nearly spluttered. "You could have saved many lives."
"It is not our place to get into a man's business, nor was I interested in getting into it," Freya said dismissively. "He was my best friend and nearly my betrothed. I was not likely to snitch on him."
"Oh," Granger sat back, nodding at her words. "Your betrothed. I see."
"You see? So I'm excused for not 'saving many lives' now? Why is that?"
"Well.. You couldn't have known of everything that they did or planned to do. You kept to your own business, and I'm sure you would have gotten hurt should you have tried to tell anyone. The deaths are on his hands in the end, not your own."
A slow smile spread across her face. "I couldn't have known? Oh darling, I knew exactly the types of things they were doing. Why are you excusing me, love? Tell me, why do you only mention Lucius when you mention the Death Eaters who got off so easily. What of Narcissa? This was her home as well, no? Do you think she 'couldn't have known' what was going on in her own home?"
Draco's jaw tightened at the mention of his mother, silently cursing the woman for bringing her up. It's not as if she had much of a choice on whether or not she went along with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, though he also knew she cared much more about his family's well-being rather than the fates of innocents.
"Narcissa is a devoted wife, a product of the world she was raised in, and Lucius is an intimidating man. She was doing the best she could do as a mother," Granger sighed.
"A devoted wife?" Freya laughed. "Oh my sweet girl, if Lucius told Narcissa to die for him at his hand she would lie down at his feet and wait for the killing curse. It goes beyond being a 'devoted wife'. Still, Narcissa is not incapable, and Narcissa is the one who held her family together through it all if you were to pay attention. Intimidating? Well, I can assure you I was never afraid of Joseph, nor was I a devoted wife to him. You're running out of excuses for me, I'm afraid."
"I don't believe Narcissa is incapable," Granger replied, looking at Draco. "She saved Harry. She was very brave."
Draco snorted loudly, looking away from her in disbelief that she most likely thought she was giving his mother some sort of large praise. "Of course. A person is only truly worth anything if they save Harry fucking Potter. Oh, and if they're brave."
"That's not what I was saying, Malfoy. I was just saying that she isn't incapable. I don't know her, so obviously I can only give examples from what I know. I'm sure there is more to her, but I couldn't tell you," she exclaimed. "I'm trying to be fair. Stop trying to twist everything I say."
"You are trying to be fair," Astoria agreed lightly. "We appreciate it."
"Like fuck we do. Stop talking about my mother," Draco snapped, shifting away from Astoria only to have her shift with him, not allowing the space he attempted to create.
He didn't try to move again.
"So you only believe me incapable then," Freya suggested, smirking pointedly. "Seeing as you know nothing of me, and you are excusing me from doing nothing about what Joseph was doing."
"No." Granger frowned. "That's not true."
"I remember one night there was an event Joseph and I were attending, I can't remember where exactly.. That isn't particularly important I suppose, but we were late, and he was exceptionally late. He came to his room dressed in that ridiculous outfit they wore at the time covered in blood. I can assure you the blood was not his. You see, when little girls start playing with the big boys they have these red flags they take note of until they decide they've seen enough red and leave the situation and that they've had enough of their fun. However, we are born surrounded by red flags, so of course we grow numb to them. I have wondered how a woman like you would feel seeing their likely future husband, future father to her children covered in another's blood, an innocent's blood while he acted indifferent. As if the blood wasn't even there. How would you feel, Hermione?"
Granger stared at her for a moment before moving her head slowly back and forth. "I.. I'm not sure, Mrs. Greengrass.. I-"
"I didn't feel anything," Freya said simply. "The blood was simply a nuisance as we had an event to look perfect and presentable for, blood was certainly not the pretty fashion trend at pure-blood parties. No, I wasn't concerned about whose blood or why, I was only annoyed he was so late. I took his hands, washed off the mess - as that's all it was to me; a mess - and grabbed his clothes that were suitable for the event to urge him to ready himself. That was that. He was clean. We went on as if it was nothing, and it was nothing to me. It wasn't on my mind whatsoever. Later, I found myself staring at my hands. There was blood under my nails, and I couldn't for the life of me think of how it had gotten there. That's how little seeing and touching the evidence of death of another impacted me, Miss Granger. I couldn't even recall it. Now, what does that make me?"
The Aurors were silent as they watched her and Granger's lips parted slightly as she looked for words to say. Astoria was watching her mother as well, though she was watching her with a look of disapproval. Astoria was relatively honest as well, though she didn't go out of her way to paint a gruesome picture.
"As you said," Granger murmured finally. "When you are raised with red flags, you grow numb to them."
Freya laughed lightly. "Alright, Miss Granger. I'll accept the fact you find my mind less than yours."
"No, I don't," Granger said evenly, her voice stronger. "I'm not sure where you are gathering that. I am trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.
"And what of Lucius and Joseph? As you don't believe it's fair they got off so easy. Are they not 'a product of the world they were raised in'?"
"I see what you're saying, Mrs. Greengrass. I do," Granger said carefully. "But-"
"For the record, Narcissa knew what Lucius was doing as well when we were at school, and yet she still wanted to marry him. She cared less than I did, actually, and I can assure you the war did not devastate her for the same reasons the war devastated you. She didn't care just as I didn't, just as Astoria didn't, just as most of our women don't care about those things, though we are fully capable of doing so. We are not mindless. We choose not to care. We choose to look the other way. Well, unless we are encouraging it of course."
Draco ground his teeth together, refraining from snapping at the woman for bringing up his mother again. She was his wife's mother and he was taught to have a bit more respect than that, and he couldn't help but have a respect for the woman on his own accord.
Granger sighed, her shoulders falling slightly as she looked down at her papers, beginning to busy herself with them. She didn't seem to want to try to argue any longer, disappointed.
Did she actually think she would bring any of the women to her light side?
"We take care of our own, Hermione," Astoria said, glancing in her mother's direction. "It is not meant as an offense to anyone else."
Hermione. Astoria continued to pretend she cared even a shred about the bitch or her opinions.
"Did you care, Astoria?" Freya asked her daughter, her tone lilted with false curiousness.
"That wasn't relevant to the goal, no," Astoria answered calmly.
"Wasn't relevant," the taller Auror muttered with a scoff, looking at Granger with bewilderment. "Yeah, completely irrelevant if the guy you want to marry kills people."
"Well.. You didn't marry him, Mrs. Greengrass," the smaller Auror offered lamely, looking to Freya.
"Yes. For reasons other than what you are hoping, selfish reasons of course, but you are right. Aldrich is much less messy than Joseph," Freya responded, her voice sugary again.
"And if Aldrich told you to die for him? Would you get on the ground and allow it as you say Narcissa would?" Granger asked, looking up to meet Freya's eyes.
Freya held her gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly as a cold humored glint flashed in them.
"He wouldn't have to tell me."
Blaise sat at the table silently with his mother, both of them eating while keeping to themselves. Usually his mother was one to talk throughout the meal, but she seemed to sense his mood and had left him alone in the recent days. It was just them at the table, which Blaise preferred. He didn't fancy sitting at the same table as men who believed they could pose as his father until they decided to mistreat Evelyn and set her off. He had never wanted to believe that his mother had killed his actual father, never wanted to believe it even though he had more than enough evidence to think as much. How could he believe his mother who loved him would take his father away from him?
He did believe it, and a part of him had always resented her for it.
He had tried to justify it, telling himself if she killed his step fathers for mistreating her then his father must have done the same. He must have deserved to die. He had wanted him to deserve it. If he had, then maybe it would have been okay. He had heard rumors of his father, of him being mad, and that had helped him justify it. He never asked his mother about it, afraid she would tell him something he didn't like. She never denied killing him, but never confirmed it either.
She had let him believe that she had murdered his father when she hadn't.
She had let him hold a resentment for her, had denied him the truth when the truth would have hurt so much less. Yes, he would have had still been dead, but he had already known he had been murdered. He was young when his father had been killed, but he still remembered him faintly. He remembered especially the events after he was killed. He remembered the looks of pity and disgust towards his mother, remembered the whispers. He remembered his mother acting as though she wasn't upset but he remembered her weeping, though he couldn't remember where he had been when he heard it.
"Mum," he said, breaking the silence.
"Mmm? Are you in the mood to chat now? You haven't been at Draco's lately. Did you two get into a spat? You're not.. Gay are you? It wasn't a lovers' spat was it? Blaise, love. He's married. Besides, the perks of having a son is that I don't have to deal with nasty son-in-laws mistreating my baby."
"No," he said, his voice hollow. "No."
His mother sat back, watching him seriously now. "What is it, Blaise?"
"Why didn't you tell me..? Why wouldn't you tell me? I don't understand," he murmured, shaking his head slowly as he tried to go through his thoughts.
"Tell you what? Please use your words. I cannot read minds."
"Why didn't you tell me that you didn't kill father?"
Evelyn said nothing for what seemed like hours, staring at him before she blinked herself out of her stiff expression and resumed cutting her food. "Which father, love?"
Blaise pushed himself back in his chair, her words stinging him as if she'd slapped him. "My only father," he said harshly, standing as he stared down at her.
"Sit down," she snapped. "I will not have you speaking over me Blaise Donati. Sit. Now."
Blaise stared down at her for several moments, his chest rising and falling in his angry breaths through his nose. Slowly, he sat, staring at her intently, feeling a fury towards her that he never had.
"Why have you brought this up? When did I say that I killed your father?"
"Everyone says that you killed my father," he hissed. "You kill every other man within ten feet of you, of course I would assume that's what you did."
"That's not true, Blaise. I do not kill-"
"For fuck's sake, mum. Tell me. To protect him? Is that it? To keep your mouth shut?"
"What are you.." She said slowly, swallowing. "Who is him?"
"Greengrass. Your friend at school. The one who murdered my father, and the one who murdered your husband. Well, his son anyway. If you want to be specific."
"How do you know this?" She asked quietly, her eyes falling to the table. "Who told you this?"
"I told you. Draco has his Pensieve. Who cares how I know? How could you let everyone blame you for that? How could you let him fucking speak to you after that? What is wrong with you? How could you let me grow up believing my own mother killed my own father in cold blood for money?"
"I didn't see the point in telling you otherwise," she sighed, her dark brown eyes low. "Would you have believed me? With what everyone says?"
"Of course I would have fucking believed you. I already spent most of my life trying to convince myself against what everyone says. Who is everyone compared to my mother?"
"I'm sorry, Blaise. I don't know why I.. I just never knew what to say. I never wanted to talk about it."
"And we never did talk about it," he replied bitterly. "Never."
"You can't tell anyone," she said softly. "You can't. Let people go on believing what they believe. It won't bring him back."
"Or what? I'll be poisoned by an eleven year old as well?"
"Just don't. I can't bear anything happening to you. You're my whole life. Please, Blaise. Please."
"But that bitch can tell everyone things about me, but-"
"Who," she demanded. "Who is that bitch?"
"Astoria," he said dismissively. "It doesn't-"
"Astoria?! And what did she tell? What did you do, Blaise. I can't believe you-"
"Can't believe I did what?" He asked dryly. "You don't know what I did yet."
"Don't interrupt me, you idiot boy. Don't you dare interrupt me. Tell me what you did right now."
"I fucked Ginny Weasley," he said flatly. "Hardly anything to write home about. Plenty of other pure-bloods fuck worse."
Evelyn's nose wrinkled in disgust and pushed back her long, black braids embellished with gold beads. "Maybe so but they don't get caught, now do they? Of all the blood traitors and you choose a Weasley? Where do you possibly get your taste?"
"What I did is beside the point. The point is that she-"
"You are quite angry at a girl for simply embarrassing you. That's why you have been avoiding Draco?"
"No. I haven't been at Malfoy Manor as much because the child of my father's murderer is there," he spat. "Am I meant to take that lightly?"
"Blaise. You have to forget about Aldrich."
"Forget him?!"
"Yes. Forget him. Unlike your father who didn't listen to me and chose to threaten him anyway."
"With what? That his wife killed that Auror? That she destroyed her family's property?"
His mother gasped, dropping her fork onto her plate. "She did all that? She killed an Auror? Aha! I knew I liked her at least a tad," she said, sounding impressed.
"Of course you like the woman who takes the dick of a man who murdered your husband," Blaise growled, his lip curling.
"Blaise. Please. Please don't talk about your father. I don't like it," she asked him gently before perking up slightly. "And yes, though I know she is burning inside. Being married to Aldrich."
"You were friends with Aldrich," he sneered, not pressing the issue of his father as he wasn't used to seeing his mother so vulnerable. He didn't like seeing her that way, and he didn't want to be the cause of it, no matter how much he wanted to address the issue further.
"Being friends with and being married to are two different matters entirely," she told him. "Tell me about this Auror she killed. I'm so intrigued."
"Tell me what he knew if those two things weren't it."
"Oh no. I won't tell you. I can keep my mouth shut. You can't. Now continue to mind your business. Don't you dare go around opening your mouth, Blaise. Don't do it. I cannot live if something happens to you."
"How do you even live with yourself knowing you were friends with someone who did that to our family?"
"Without him you wouldn't have been born a Zabini, Blaise. That's how it works. You do Aldrich favors, he does you favors," she said, beginning to sound annoyed. "That's how it works with many friendships."
"Until he fucking doesn't."
"Yes, well. He can give just as he can take away."