Chapter 7- Dragon Flower ~ A Dance Like Fire
Draco wandered downstairs in Nymphadora's unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable clothes. His aunt was buckling Teddy into a large pram and putting a hat on his tiny head. When she caught sight of Draco, a flash of sadness passed through her eyes.
"I-It's good that those fit you," she said, seemingly having forgotten that she'd charmed the clothes to be Draco's size. "You can keep them if you want. Nymphadora really liked that shirt, you know. It deserves to be worn, not shoved in a closet forever."
Draco nodded stiffly. Thinking about the fate of his dead cousin's clothes made him extremely uncomfortable. Thinking about the fact that he was the one wearing his dead cousin's clothes unnerved him even more.
Wordlessly, Aunt Andromeda opened the front door and pushed the pram outside. Draco followed and shut the door behind them. After locking it, Andromeda gestured for him to follow her down an asphalt path where a Muggle car was parked.
"Can you, er, operate that vehicle?" he asked curiously. He knew very little about automobiles; he recalled that the Weasleys had gotten in trouble over having a magical car, and he knew that the Ministry sometimes used vehicles for security purposes, but Draco had never been in one himself. Mother insisted that they were death traps, and Father said that only individuals of low status used such methods of transportation.
Aunt Andromeda looked over at the blue vehicle. "Yes, but not very well," she said. "Ted taught me to drive years ago. He insisted that both Nymphadora and I learn. So we did. I'm a terrible driver, though. I can never focus on all the dials and lights I'm supposed to. I still get extremely anxious just being inside of cars even after decades of traveling in them, probably because my mother always brought up how she thought they were barbaric and dangerous."
"Mother calls them metal death traps."
"She got that from our mother. That is precisely how she referred to Muggle automobiles."
Silence fell between them as they continued to walk along the asphalt path, which led out to a wider one parallel to the boundary of the Tonks property. They turned left and continued walking along the edge of the new path, which was wooded and picturesque.
It took about ten minutes of walking for Draco to figure out his aunt's grand scheme.
"This is a Muggle road," he announced, somewhat horrified. "And you gave me Muggle clothes to wear. Are we going to a Muggle shop?"
"Yes," she immediately replied, briefly stopping to adjust the blanket covering his sleeping baby cousin. "It seemed like the best option, and it's only about a fifteen-minute walk from the house. We don't have to deal with wizards pointing and staring at us, no one will recognize you, and it's close enough where if you feel uncomfortable, you can simply walk back home."
While he couldn't fault his aunt's logic, Draco felt as if he'd somehow been duped. He wanted to turn around and go back to the house, but that seemed like taking the easy way out. He was too proud to admit defeat and run away. Perhaps his aunt was counting on that.
He absentmindedly grabbed his left arm. He had no idea of how to interact with Muggles without breaking the Statute of Secrecy, recoiling when his fingers accidentally brushed against his exposed Dark Mark. Draco stopped dead in his tracks. How was he supposed to explain the mark to Muggles? Would they know what it meant? Would they glare and sneer at him too? Why didn't he insist on wearing a shirt that covered it?
Noticing that he was no longer following, Aunt Andromeda turned around and walked back to him, pushing the pram in front of her.
"Draco?" she asked softly. "Is everything alright?"
"My Dark Mark," he mumbled, staring at the blotchy and scarred skin on his arm. "The Muggles will see it."
Aunt Andromeda took his hand and very tenderly turned his arm over so she could examine the mark. Her face was emotionless as she looked at it, and Draco suddenly felt ashamed when he realized that probably everyone she'd ever lost had been killed by people who wore the Dark Mark with pride, as he once did.
She waited for a Muggle vehicle to pass them by before speaking. "Draco, no one in the village is going to recognize the Dark Mark," she said gently, letting go of his arm. She stared at a large oak across the road, seemingly determined not to look at him. "I don't think anyone is going to say anything about it to you. Most Muggles keep to themselves while shopping and don't bother others. If anything, might get some sympathetic comments since your Mark looks like a botched Muggle tattoo that got infected."
"But-" he started. Why was she being so stubborn about this? His aunt didn't understand- she couldn't understand.
She turned to face him once again, her brown eyes so piercing in their gaze that Draco thought his Aunt might have gained the ability to peer into his soul. "You will be fine," she assured him. "And again, if someone makes a comment about it and you become uncomfortable, you can walk back home."
Draco spent so much time in his head inventing fictional confrontations with Muggles and formulating adequate answers to all their possible questions about his Dark Mark that he didn't notice that they'd arrived at the village until Aunt Andromeda pointed it out. Draco thought it looked a lot like Hogsmeade, albeit with no magic and far less people.
His aunt led them down a concrete sidewalk to a store with a large asphalt lawn, where many Muggle vehicles were parked. An odd glass-windowed structure with colored lights sat outside the store, and inside of it, Draco saw what appeared to be stuffed toys sitting on a bed of brightly colored rocks. A strange metal clamp hovered above them.
He looked up at the store, "Graham's Grocery," and followed his aunt and Teddy inside.
"Take a basket," she ordered, pointing at a pile of strange red mesh-like containers by the door. "I can put some stuff on the bed under the pram, but not everything."
Draco complied, the sharp synthetic feel of the basket weirding him out.
The entire store was unlike anything Draco had ever seen, not that he'd ever had reason to visit a grocer in the wizarding world. Muggles traversed aisles of stacked food products and unfamiliar objects, sticking whatever they chose into the hard mesh baskets or larger carriages on wheels. He and his aunt completed these same tasks, and before long, the basket Draco held was full of produce and baking supplies.
His aunt had been correct; not a single Muggle approached them in the store, as they were all far too focused on their own shopping to notice them. He observed as some of them asked store employees for assistance in grabbing hard to reach items, while others were in their own little world, humming along to the strange, yet infectiously catchy Muggle music being pumped through the store.
Oh, gentle Snapdragon, may I stay?
May I pray, shall I dance like a fire?
I can bring frogs, starfish sake,
Oh, Snapdragon, anything that you desire.
Draco had no idea what any of that was supposed to mean, and he wasn't even going to make an attempt at deciphering the song's nonsensical lyrics.
It wasn't until after Draco helped his aunt obtain a ten-pound bag of flour that they had to interact with any Muggles.
"We need to go up to the counter to pay," she said, tilting her head in the direction of the cashier at the front of the store. Draco followed her over to the counter and started unloading their purchases on it.
"Mrs. Tonks! How've you been? How's little Teddy?" the cashier greeted. He was an older man in a light brown shirt and suspenders that had a jovial smile.
Draco watched as the man picked up a carton of eggs and waved an odd shaped black object with a red light at it. With a small beep, the price appeared on a tiny dark green screen above what Draco assumed was the cash register. Draco had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. How had the man made the price appear like that? Was this magic, or something else? He'd have to stealthily ask his aunt later.
"I'm doing alright, Mr. Graham," she replied unconvincingly. "As you can see, Teddy fell asleep the moment we left the house. How's the store been?"
This must be the owner of the store, Draco thought to himself. Aunt Andromeda seems to be on good terms with him. I'd better not draw any undue attention to myself- or my Mark- and ruin that for her.
"Business is booming," he grinned, waving the black object at a bag of sugar to reveal its price. "But I'm more curious about your companion here. Who's this strapping young lad you've brought with you today?"
Draco paled and shifted uncomfortably. So much for not drawing attention to myself...
"This is my nephew, Draco," his aunt explained. "My sister's son. He's staying with me for a couple weeks. Draco, this is Albert Graham. His family has owned this store for a very long time."
"Almost fifty years!" Mr. Graham beamed, holding his right hand out for Draco to shake. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Draco replied, awkwardly taking the man's hand.
Mr. Graham's smile morphed from cheerful to somber. "It's good of you to stay with your aunt for a while," he said, taking a paper bag from behind him and stuffing it with their groceries. "My wife and I worry about her being all alone in that house with Teddy. My condolences on losing your uncle and cousin, by the way. They were some of the kindest people I've ever known. I'm sure you miss them terribly."
"Er, thanks," Draco awkwardly mumbled. The conversation made him feel embarrassed that he hadn't known his uncle or cousin, even though deep down, he knew that it wasn't entirely his fault. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw his aunt stiffen. He felt terrible; his aunt had wanted to avoid these comments, and his presence had resulted in them.
"It was good to see you, Mr. Graham," Aunt Andromeda cut in, saving Draco from responding further. She took the bag of groceries from the man and stowed it under the pram, the jostling of items causing Teddy to wake up and let out a small cry.
Mr. Graham handed the large sack of flour to Draco. "Same here," he grinned. "And my invitation from a while back stands, Mrs. Tonks. Nancy and I would love to have you and Teddy- and Draco too, if he's still here- over for dinner sometime."
Aunt Andromeda gave a curt nod before pushing the pram away from the counter. She looked back at Draco and gestured for him to follow.
They walked in silence out of the village and back to the asphalt path, the only sounds being the chirping birds and the occasional noise from Teddy. Draco was lost in his thoughts again; why would a Muggle ask his aunt to call on him? Was she considering accepting the invitation? He couldn't possibly see how she could. Draco was under the impression that the only time wizards ever interacted with Muggles was if they were related to them, or in muggleborns' cases, if they were childhood friends. Even then, he couldn't see how they wouldn't grow apart as they got older and had less in common.
Finally, after about ten minutes, his curiosity got the better of him.
"Are you planning on taking Mr. Graham up on his invitation for dinner?" he asked, knowing that he was being far too nosy for his own good. In his mind, Draco could see both Mother scowling and Father glaring disapprovingly at him for so openly prying into his aunt's affairs.
"Probably not," Aunt Andromeda replied. "It would be too difficult with Teddy, since he'll change his eye color every time Mr. and Mrs. Graham look at him. His hair I can hide with a hat, but I can't really do the same for his eyes without a lot of questions."
"Have you ever been to that man's house before?"
"Yes, many times. Mr. Graham invited my husband and me over every few months or so. He and his wife are lovely people."
Draco let out a small gasp at her admission, which was fortunately masked by the sounds of Teddy wailing and a Muggle automobile passing them on the road. Nevertheless, his aunt picked up on his shock.
"This surprises you," she observed, briefly stopping so she grab a bottle from the bottom pocket of the pram. She handed it to Teddy, who immediately ceased crying.
"It's just… I don't really understand," Draco said, crinkling his nose. "We live completely different lives from Muggles. We use magic all the time, and they don't even know it exists. Muggles have to complete every single thing they do by hand, whereas we can just wave our wands and it's done. Our society and culture are wholly separate from theirs too. What could you possibly have in common with them?"
Aunt Andromeda slowed her pace so that Draco could fall in step with her. "Muggles and wizards really aren't all that different," she said. "Both of us care about our families, we get excited over sporting events, and we enjoy delicious food, among other things. Yes, Ted and I had to phrase things in a particular way to Mr. and Mrs. Graham so that we wouldn't break the Statute of Secrecy, but we still were able to talk with each other about our lives, our children, and our opinions on the world without any issues. All of us are human, Draco, and even if we don't live the same way, we're all striving to be the best versions of ourselves we can be, even if we make mistakes along the way. And really, that's what matters most, not whether or not some of us can do magic."
As they continued walking back to the house, Draco ruminated on his aunt's words. He had to admit that she was probably right that everybody, regardless of magical ability, was trying their hardest to be the best they could, even if they didn't ultimately succeed. But he couldn't help but shudder when he thought about the things he'd done in his short life so far, even if he believed they'd been the right decisions at the time. Draco wanted to be a good person, but he knew that he'd fallen woefully short of that goal.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
When Mother told him that she was running errands in Diagon Alley, Draco begged to come along. He loved going to London, especially on hot summer days like today. Father always took him to Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at racing brooms, Mother usually stopped at Florean Fortescue's for sundaes, and both of his parents could often be persuaded to buy him a new toy.
They were currently in Flourish and Blotts so that Mother could return several books that had been sent to her in error with her last owl order. Draco didn't like reading much- the only books that Mother and Father approved of were boring and had no pictures. Still, he loved the musty scent of parchment and paper. Even though he wouldn't be attending Hogwarts for another three years, Draco could almost imagine studying with Greg, Vinny, and Theo in the school's library, all of them clad in the green robes of Slytherin.
Older kids, probably Hogwarts students, crowded the bookstore, hustling through the aisles carrying stacks of heavy tomes. If he tried hard enough, Draco could convince himself that he was just like them, about to go off and become a real wizard at school. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pink-haired girl who looked several years older than him trip over a pile of books on the floor, causing the books she was holding to fly out of her arms. She let out an exasperated huff, and her hair turned bright red before changing back to pink.
That's so neat! Draco thought to himself. How did she do that?
Before he knew what he was doing, Draco had wandered away from his mother to the other side of the shop. He needed to find out what sort of spell she used on her hair to get it to change colors like that. Or maybe it was a new type of hair dye? Perhaps he could convince Mother to get him some so he could turn his hair Slytherin green whenever he wanted. Theo would be so jealous!
Draco approached the girl, stopping several paces away when he saw that she was in the middle of a conversation with someone else.
"-need to watch where you're going, Nymphadora!" an older woman with brown hair scolded. Draco could only assume that she was the girl's mother. "You could really hurt yourself one day!"
The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Relax, Mum, I'm fine," she replied.
The older woman pursed her lips. She looked very familiar to him, but Draco couldn't figure out how he could have known her. She and her daughter weren't dressed in the fine silk robes and jewelry of the pureblood elite. Instead, the woman was wearing a white pendant necklace with simple garments made of muted fabric, and her daughter was wearing what appeared to be Muggle jeans and a black T-shirt. These were definitely not people Mother and Father would associate with.
Still, there was something about the woman that made him feel like they'd met before. Draco thought that she sort of resembled the photographs of Aunt Bellatrix in Malfoy Manor, but the woman's face wasn't quite right. Her eyes were somewhat similar, but she had a much rounder- and kinder- face than his terrifying aunt. Her pursed lips also reminded Draco of his mother when she was mad, and Mother looked nothing like Aunt Bella.
He was still trying to figure out if they were acquainted when the woman caught sight of him.
"Hello," she greeted with a smile. "Can we help you with something?"
"Are you lost?" her daughter added kindly. "Do you need help finding your parents?"
The older woman's eyes narrowed on him before widening in shock, and she clutched the pendant on her necklace. She seemed to recognize Draco too. Maybe if he asked her, she would remind him of how they were acquainted.
However, he never got the chance.
"Draco!" Mother called out as she strode toward them, pushing an old warlock in teal robes out of her way. "How many times have I told you not to go off alone? You could get lost or-"
Mother stopped in her tracks when she saw the other woman. Draco watched as his mother's face became filled with contempt, her nostrils flaring with fury. Across from her, the mystery woman's mouth was agape, and her eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. The two of them spent a long moment staring each other down, with Mother becoming more enraged and the other woman becoming more shocked as the seconds ticked by.
"Mum?" the pink-haired girl finally said, a puzzled frown on her face. Draco supposed that he probably looked equally confused. "Who's this woman? Why is she glaring at us?"
Mother's eyes suddenly snapped back to Draco, and she grabbed his arm. "Come, Draco," she curtly ordered, leading him away from the brown-haired woman and out of the store. Draco turned to look back at the woman, who was still rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on him.
"Mother, who was that?" he tentatively asked once they were outside. "Why did that lady look so familiar? Do we know her?"
Rage flashed in Mother's eyes once more, and Draco stiffened, certain that he was about to be yelled at for prying. Instead, her grip on his arm softened and her light eyes became cloudy.
"She is an old acquaintance," Mother said, all traces of anger leaving her face. "Nothing more than that."
Draco nodded, but he didn't believe her, not when he saw tears welling in her eyes.
While the rest of the wizarding world might have been convinced that Draco Malfoy was a petulant, sociopathic child that had grown up to be a Death Eater, I was not. The many hours I spent in the presence of my nephew had done nothing to sway me that he was some evil pureblood supremacist hell-bent on blaming others for his own shortcomings. Draco very well might have been that type of person at some point, but he certainly wasn't anymore. He was quiet and passive, doing whatever I asked with little complaint, such as clearing the dishes away after breakfast or even holding Teddy when my hands were full. Draco had given no indications that he hated Muggles and muggleborns and had been very respectful to everyone we met on our journey to Mr. Graham's shop in the village.
In my opinion, Draco was quite troubled. His clear blue eyes were always downcast, a frown perpetually etched on his face. Given his experiences over the past couple of years, I could hardly blame him. But the specifics of what was troubling him were a mystery to me. Despite my gentle prodding, my nephew refused to speak of them, giving me monosyllabic responses to any of my queries. It was clear to me that he refused to speak his mind for fear of how I would react. He seemed to be under the impression that if he said anything I disapproved of, I would kick him out of the house.
His behavior was all too familiar to me; I had acted in a similar manner around my family prior to being disowned. Was Draco's behavior the result of living with the Dark Lord and his fanatical followers, including my crazy and violent older sister? Or had Lucius and Narcissa quashed most of their son's self-expression, only giving approval when his interests and hobbies aligned with their desires?
Whatever the reason, I wished that I could do something to get Draco out of his shell a bit more. He'd spent the majority of his days reading through Ted's Quidditch magazine collection and seemingly had no interest in interacting with other people. Despite this, he was definitely lonely, as he was always sitting somewhere in the house or garden where he could see me. He'd tamped down his curiosity about his surroundings too; on more than one occasion, I saw how he bit his tongue to stop himself from asking about the telephone and baby monitor, and he had less than artfully pretended to read when I turned on the television to watch the Muggle news at night. Our time together was running out though, and I could only hope that in the week we had left that my nephew would lower his walls so I could get to know him better.
And in truth, I enjoyed having Draco around. Focusing on him meant that I was constantly occupied, leaving me with fewer opportunities for my mind to become enveloped with anger and grief.
I had just put Teddy to bed for the night and gone into the kitchen to make a cup of tea when through the window, I noticed that Draco had ventured out onto the back patio near the poorly transplanted snapdragons. Shockingly, he wasn't holding a Quidditch magazine; instead, he was looking up at the stars. Abandoning my current task, I grabbed the baby monitor and went outside to join him.
Hundreds of stars sparkled brightly against the deep navy sky overhead, the lack of the Moon causing them to appear even more radiant than normal. My nephew's hair glowed soft silver in their light, and I shivered, reminded of the many late nights my sisters and I stared at the sky to find our namesakes among the stars.
Slowly, I approached Draco and leaned my arms over the railing of the patio next to him.
"Looking for yourself up there?" I asked with a smile. He didn't respond, instead pointing up above us where the constellation Draco was currently located.
"You're lucky. We can't see Andromeda right now," I continued, gesturing to a wooded grove in the distance. "She loves to hug the horizon, and those trees are in the way."
"S-Sorry," he replied, turning his gaze to the snapdragons below us as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
Maybe tonight he would finally talk to me beyond basic pleasantries for once. "A penny for your thoughts, Draco?" I asked.
My nephew stared at me blankly. "A what for my thoughts?" he exclaimed, his brow furrowing.
I let out a laugh. "Sorry, I should have realized you wouldn't understand," I said. "It's a Muggle expression. It's a way to ask someone what they're thinking about. A penny is a type of Muggle coin. The closest magical equivalent would be a Knut."
Draco nodded, his starlit hair bristling in the cool breeze. He pointed to the baby monitor clutched in my hand. "Is that rectangle a penny?" he asked, very obviously taking advantage of the opportunity to ask about the baby monitor he'd been staring at all week- without appearing too curious. His sad attempt at subterfuge was almost cute.
"No, this is a Muggle baby monitor," I explained, holding it up for him to look at.
"Why do you use a Muggle baby monitor? Don't they make magic ones? And couldn't you keep an eye on a baby while in a different room by using monitoring spells?"
"I have this nasty habit of sleeping through both magical baby monitors and monitoring spells, no matter how obnoxious I set them to be. For whatever reason, the Muggle one wakes me up when those don't."
My nephew nodded, his eyes locked onto the baby monitor. He took it from me and turned it over in his hands a few times, studying its synthetic casing, buttons, and antenna. He rubbed his fingers over the piece of plastic that popped out to replace the batteries, finally handing it back to me when he'd given up trying to remove it.
Perhaps now that his curiosity had been sated, he would be more forthcoming about himself.
"How are you, Draco?" I asked. "Are you doing alright?"
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Hardly," he said. "Not that that's all that surprising though."
"I understand," I replied, staring up at Ursa Major. "Everything that's happened has taken a toll on all of us."
"No offense, Aunt Andromeda, but there's no way that someone like you could understand how I feel," he responded bitterly. The scowl on his face reminded me far too much of Narcissa for my liking. "No one knows what it was like for me last year. No one seems to understand what would have happened to me or my parents if I disobeyed the Dark Lord. Or what the consequences were for disobeying Father."
I sighed, resting my hand against my cheek. "You're right," I said. "I don't know what it's like to become a Death Eater. Or live in a house with a Death Eater parent. Or be put on trial for treason. I can't help you with any of that because I've never experienced it myself."
He nodded at me, his expression softening. I continued on.
"But when it comes to understanding the consequences for not being the perfect pureblood child, that's another story," I said softly, absentmindedly twisting my wedding ring around my finger. "I grew up surrounded by purebloods who thought they were superior- who drummed into my head that there was a right way to act and behave. My interests and hobbies were only allowed if they fit within the rigid standard of what pureblood elite society deemed acceptable. So, when it comes to being afraid to break out of that mold and be different? Or worrying about what might happen to you if you question the status quo a smidge too much and someone notices? Yeah, I might know a bit about those."
It was quiet for a long moment, the only noises being the buzzing of the summer insects and the rustling of the trees in the wind. Draco leaned over the railing and hung his head, the glow of his hair dimming as a few thin gray clouds moved across the sky, obscuring all but the brightest of stars behind them. I began counting the snapdragons below me while I waited for my nephew to respond.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to believe anymore," he said shakily, slumping over the railing. "Everything Father and Mother said was true made sense when I was little, but now…" He trailed off.
"Everything always seems simpler when you're young," I sighed, shaking my head. "Questioning what your parents think isn't inherently evil, Draco. It's a part of growing up."
"They don't see it that way."
"I know."
My nephew lifted his head and stared up at Cygnus again. "I never really knew him, you know," he muttered. "Cygnus Black, I mean. I was a baby when he died. Mother said that she gave me his name so I would grow up to be like him."
I grasped the railing tightly with my free hand as my father's stern, yet loving face flashed in my mind. He may have been closed-minded and prejudiced, but he'd loved my sisters and me more than anything. I was certain he loved Draco for the brief time he knew him.
"He was a decent man, but a flawed one," I said. "He loved his family and put them before everything else. And he was a successful businessman. But he believed the same rhetoric as most other wealthy purebloods- that we were better than everyone else and that muggleborns could never be our equals. He was never a fan of the Dark Lord though. Father wanted to strip muggleborns' rights using non-violent methods, and he funded many Wizengamot members' efforts to pass laws denying them opportunities and privileges. When Bella became a Death Eater, he made his disapproval of her choices well-known since he thought the Dark Lord's efforts would set back his goals by decades."
Silence fell between us once more, and I watched as the wispy gray clouds morphed between shapes as they traversed the sky.
Several minutes passed before Draco spoke again.
"When I was a little kid, I believed what Father told me- that we were better and smarter than everyone else because we were purebloods," he said. "But I don't think I believe any of that anymore. How can I? All of it started to fall apart when I started Hogwarts. If we are truly superior, how can Hermione Granger be the smartest witch in my year?"
He took a deep breath before continuing. "I managed to convince myself that I was better for a long time though," Draco remarked, straightening his posture and turning to face me. "It was easy to convince myself if I ignored what was happening around me. And I only spent time with Slytherins, which helped."
"So what changed?" I asked, preparing myself for the answer that I suspected was coming. "Why don't you believe in pureblood superiority anymore?"
Draco held his left arm up. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, which covered his Dark Mark. "I was so excited when the Dark Lord wanted me to join him, even though Mother asked me to reconsider," he said, grimacing, his voice barely louder than the buzzing summer insects. "And at first, everything was great. I was doing what Father and Mother raised me to. But very quickly, I realized that… that…"
"That becoming a Death Eater wasn't all sunshine and rainbows?" I finished, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
He nodded. "The tasks that the Dark Lord wanted me to do…" he replied sullenly, staring at his feet again. "The spells that Aunt Bella tried to teach me… Everything was so ruthless. The Carrows and Dolohov would kidnap Muggles and torture them in front of everyone. It was awful. I was so naïve, Aunt Andromeda. I had no idea what joining up really meant. And then once I was there, I had no choice but to do what they asked. Father was in Azkaban. The Dark Lord told me that if I didn't do what he asked, he'd kill Mother and make me watch. And then he'd kill me."
Draco lowered his arm and shoved his hands into his pockets again. "There are some nights that I wish was dead," he admitted. "It would be easier than reliving the hell of the past year. No beliefs are worth the things I did. Even though I got off easy, I have to live with the fact that I was an arrogant git and hurt a lot of people. And even if I spend the rest of my life apologizing, it won't change the fact that lots of people are dead because of people like my parents and me. I'm ready to toss the old me in the rubbish bin, but will it even matter? It's not like I'll be forgiven. And if so much as mention that I think Muggles or muggleborns are just as smart and powerful as purebloods, Father and Mother will get so angry. They'll never fully acknowledge that their opinions are wrong. What if they never speak to me again? I don't want to be alone anymore."
The amount of introspection and self-reflection that my nephew must have done over the past couple of years was astounding to me, and frankly, remarkable. Draco had been under so much pressure from both his parents and the Dark Lord at different points in his life, and he'd been subjected to the horrors of pureblood fanaticism and threats to his livelihood. The fact that he hadn't managed to completely break before now was impressive. He certainly wasn't a blood traitor yet, but he was well on his way to becoming one. His willingness to take accountability for his actions was proof that he could one day be rehabilitated and do some real good in the world. I could only hope that his parents would follow suit. Still, I completely understood the acute fear of being cast out by the only people who supported him, even if I found the it unlikely in his case. Draco was Narcissa's and Lucius' only child, after all.
"You're not alone, Draco," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I caught sight of my hand; in the starlight, my skin appeared translucent and ethereal, like a ghost. In some ways, I was one.
"It sure feels like I'm alone," he countered. "Mother and Father will never accept it if I cast aside all they taught me."
Unfortunately, I knew exactly how he felt. "Parents aren't perfect," I replied. "One of the biggest challenges of parenthood is understanding that once your children reach a certain age, they don't necessarily believe the same things you do. And sometimes, the path they want to follow isn't something you want them to do. But we have to let them find their own way, even if that means they become Aurors, or decide they want to work with dragons, or any number of other things. It's humbling, but unless we want to lose our children forever, we have to accept them for who they are."
"The problem is that I think my parents would rather lose me forever than change their way of thinking."
I sighed. I couldn't exactly tell him he was wrong; after all, my parents had disowned me for my choices in life. Still, Cissy had come to me wanting to reconcile, which had to count for something.
"I can't tell you what they'll do, Draco," I conceded. "But personally, I don't think they'll abandon you for being who you are. Before my father died, he contacted me to see how my life had turned out. In that conversation, he told me that my departure from our family broke them apart in ways that they never thought possible. I don't think Cissy wants to repeat that. And if she does, then I'm sorry that she hasn't learned what's truly important in life."
Draco nodded and leaned back against the railing, his frown even more pronounced. His expression was one of someone much older than eighteen, which made my heart sink. I wished that I could do more to help him than provide feeble assurances that Narcissa and Lucius wouldn't cast him out, promises that neither of us wholly believed.
"Can I ask you something?" he inquired, anguish and uncertainty filling his eyes.
"Of course," I replied softly.
"How did you do it?" he asked. "How did you get the courage to walk away? How were you able to be yourself when everyone wanted you to be someone else?"
I couldn't help but smile. "You're kind of starting with a false premise here, Draco," I answered, drumming my fingers on the railing. "Even though I was meticulously planning my exit from my family, they figured out all my secrets first. Ultimately, I didn't walk away from them. They weren't going to let me. Your mother was the one who took me to Ted."
I could practically hear my nephew's jaw hit the ground. "M-Mother… did… what?" he stammered, gripping the railing tightly. Somewhere in the grove of trees, an owl hooted loudly, its vociferations vaguely reminiscent of ominous laughter.
"You find it so hard to believe that your mother could look past her own ambition to help someone she loved?" I asked.
Draco raised his eyebrows at me. "Honestly, Aunt, yes, I do. She always has an agenda."
Echoes of Cissy crying amidst my own screams and Bella's yells danced around in my mind, and I focused on the snapdragons blowing in the wind to remove all traces of my past trauma from the present.
I sighed. My sister's motivations both then and now were anything but clear. "When everyone found out about Ted, Bella… she…," I started, not wanting to finish the thought. "Well, let's just say she did something terrible to me. Something irreversible. And your mother could have stopped her beforehand, but didn't. I don't think Cissy will ever truly admit it to herself, but I suspect she ignored her own worldview for a few moments to help me because she wanted me to be happy. So I think she'll do the same for you, Draco."
"I can only hope so," he mumbled.
"To answer your original question, I got the strength to walk away and be myself from the people around me who cared," I added. "The Prewetts, my boss at the time, and most importantly, Ted."
Draco shifted closer to me. "How did you meet him?" he asked, not even bothering to hide his interest this time.
I bit back a smile. "That is a very long story," I remarked. "One that is too long to tell in its entirety tonight. But to summarize, we were in the same year at Hogwarts. We were prefects and study partners for a while, so we spent a decent amount of time together. We secretly became friends and eventually fell in love."
He looked at me quizzically. "How?" he asked. "The two of you couldn't have had much in common with him being a muggleborn and all."
"That was part of what drew us together," I explained. "We were so different from each other. I found Ted's life and family fascinating, and he once told me that I was like a puzzle that he couldn't stop himself from solving. In a way, our experiences in the wizarding world weren't dissimilar- his non-muggleborn friends at Hogwarts didn't really understand him a lot of the time, and no one in my life understood me. We bonded over that. And even though our upbringings were almost the complete opposite of one another, we still had some shared interests, like reading and going to museums, among other things."
"Ted liked Quidditch," Draco remarked, biting his lower lip as he looked up his namesake constellation.
I laughed. "That's an understatement. Ted worked as a wireless broadcaster for the Chudley Cannons for his entire career," I explained. "He loved Quidditch. All those magazines you've been reading weren't just for entertainment, Draco. They were his work materials."
I caught a flash of a grin on my nephew's face, but it vanished almost immediately. "What was Ted like?" he asked.
"He was the kindest and most genuine person you'd ever meet," I smiled. "Ted would give you the cloak off his back if it were raining, even if it meant that he got drenched as a result. He wanted to be friends with everyone, and always thought the best of people. Whenever Nymphadora or I were feeling down, he'd crack some sort of joke to make us laugh or sing some song to us. Ted was always cheering us on, no matter what we were doing."
"Sounds like he was a nice bloke."
"He was. I can count the number of people who didn't like him on one hand."
Draco turned his gaze back to the Summer Triangle constellations, his eyes focused on Cygnus yet again. His expression was unreadable in the starlight, but I thought I detected hints of sadness and shame.
"And your daughter? My cousin?" he questioned. "What was she like? I know she was in Hufflepuff, she was a Metamorphmagus, and she married Lupin, but not much else."
"She was a lot like her father," I answered shakily, tightening my grip around the baby monitor as I tried not to cry. "Nymphadora was kind, selfless, brave, and she had an unwavering sense of justice. She was stubborn and uncoordinated, but she had the biggest heart of us all. She loved Muggle rock music and reading mystery novels, as well as watching Quidditch and going out with friends."
"I wish I could have known them," Draco said. "Maybe in another universe, I did."
It suddenly dawned on me that in the past few minutes, Draco had shown more interest in my family's lives than his own mother had over several visits, despite her initial claim of wanting to get to know them better. She had barely asked about them at all after that first day.
A serpent of sorrow slithered in my stomach, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I miss both Ted and Nymphadora terribly," I added, watching as a few of my tears fell onto the snapdragons below me.
We were quiet for another long moment before Draco spoke again.
"At least you still have Teddy," he said quietly. "Apart from my parents, I have no one. And if they decide they don't like who I'm becoming, I'll be all alone."
I reached out and placed my hand on Draco's shoulder, causing him to jump back slightly. "That's not true, Draco," I gently replied. "You have Teddy and me too."
He relaxed somewhat, and we remained staring at the stars in silence until the baby monitor went off.
A couple of days later, when I was making lunch, the doorbell rang unexpectedly.
"Were you expecting someone?" I asked my nephew, who was reading the December 1987 issue of Quidditch Monthly in the living room. Teddy was in his dinosaur seat on the ground several feet away, his hair and eyes currently matching his cousin.
"No," Draco responded, shaking his head. "I told you before. Apart from my parents, no one wants to be around me anymore."
I went to open the door. Before me was an unfamiliar teenage girl, probably a bit younger than Draco. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and the hem of her silk beige robes were caked with mud. The girl's skin was jaundiced and sallow, and I noticed that her lips were blue.
"Hi!" she greeted brightly. "Is Draco around?"
The girl's electric green eyes twinkled mischievously, a trait so specific to one pureblood family that, when coupled with her pallid complexion, made it obvious as to who she was. With her dirty clothing and apparent lack of care for her appearance, it was no wonder my sister couldn't stand her.
"You're a Greengrass, aren't you?" I asked.
"Astoria Greengrass," she affirmed, twirling around. "It's nice to meet you! But is Draco here?"
"Astoria," Draco said, materializing behind me. His tone with her was short, but his light eyes were quite gentle. "You're not allowed to be here. You'll get in trouble."
"Actually, that's not true," she grinned. "Your mother only said that I was banned from seeing you at Malfoy Manor. She didn't say I couldn't meet you elsewhere! So here I am!"
"How did you even find me? It's not like I told anyone where I'd be while the Aurors were at Malfoy Manor."
"Oh, that's easy. I knew that you had to be somewhere Ministry-approved, and none of our friends' houses would qualify. I thought your aunt might be considered okay though, especially since your cousin was an Auror. But I couldn't connect to her Floo for whatever reason, so I had to get creative in coming here."
I bit back a laugh as Draco's cool demeanor faltered into one of exasperation. This girl was persistent, brash, and clever, and I was starting to like her very much. "We made our Floo connection private after the Ministry fell," I explained. "It was necessary at the time."
"Oh, that makes sense!" she replied.
"Okay, but how did you get here?" Draco asked with a sigh. "You're underage, so unless you're apparating illegally…"
Astoria pushed one of the many errant strands of her hair behind her ear. "I Flooed to one of the wizarding taverns in Hereford," she explained. "And Mother and Father are in Spain with Daphne for the week, so I'm home by myself with nothing to do. Anyway, I asked the barkeep in Hereford for a map of the area, and he gave one to me. Then I started walking."
My nephew's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. "You walked?!" he yelped. "No. No, you didn't! Hereford has to be about forty miles away from here!"
"It's more like fifty, actually," I chimed in, wondering where exactly Astoria's story was going. Draco was right, there was no way she'd walked north from Hereford for that long.
"I didn't walk all the way," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "I walked along this really marshy road for a while, which was a real pain! My boots kept getting stuck and there was no sidewalk in places! But then like an hour in, I started coughing up blood, so I figured that I probably should stop. Then I remembered that the Knight Bus exists, so I called it, and it dropped me off here!"
Draco glared at her and opened his mouth, presumably to lecture her again. "The important thing is that you made it in one piece," I cut in, casting a Cleaning Charm at her robes before ushering her inside.
The incurable Greengrass blood curse was well-documented in pureblood circles, and while I certainly wasn't thrilled that Astoria Greengrass was going out of her way to physically exert herself to the point where she was likely actively shortening her lifespan, I wasn't going to chastise her for it. By nature of being a teenager, she was going to rebel and take risks anyway. She probably got enough coddling from her family and likely wouldn't appreciate yet another person- a stranger, no less- treating her like a porcelain doll.
Draco put his hands on his hips. "You shouldn't have done all that," he scolded. His face was fraught with worry.
Astoria pushed past us into the living room and flopped onto the couch. "Oh well," she shrugged. "Too late to undo it now! Oh, is this baby your cousin? He's so cute!"
On the floor, Teddy had morphed his appearance to mimic Astoria's. He looked at her with inquisitive eyes, and she waved at him.
Draco walked over and stood in front of her. "Why are you here, Astoria?" he asked. I stood silently in the doorway, far too invested in their teenage drama to leave yet.
"To see you," she replied simply.
"Your reputation, and that of your family, will suffer if you're seen around me," he insisted half-heartedly. I sat down on the couch opposite Astoria to watch the conversation that was unfolding; it was clear to me that despite Draco's insistence otherwise, he had at least one friend, and that he was so used to not being allowed to spend time with her that he had no idea how tell her it was alright to stay. The situation was somewhat reminiscent of my initial hesitance to be Ted's friend, and I found Draco's predicament nostalgic.
"I don't care about reputation!" she retorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Why should I? It's not like anyone wants me around anyway because of my blood curse!"
"That's not true," my nephew shot back. "I… I… I'd be… Well, I don't find your presence wholly unpalatable!"
Teddy let out a small gurgle that almost sounded like a laugh. I could only agree with his sentiment; watching Draco trying and failing at navigating friendship with Astoria was oddly entertaining.
I bit back a laugh. "You're quite outspoken, Astoria," I mused. "I can't imagine that your parents are too thrilled about that."
She shrugged again. "What are they going to do about it? Ground me?" she remarked, resting her feet on the coffee table. "Why bother doing what other people want when it doesn't matter at all? I'll be dead before I'm forty anyway. What could they possibly do to punish me when I'm a walking corpse already? I'd rather have fun before I die than pretend I'm into blood purity or other stupid pureblood things like that."
"I wholeheartedly agree," I grinned, levitating the coffee table across the room to prevent her from keeping her feet on it. She let out a long sigh of disappointment before blowing me a raspberry.
"Look, Astoria, you can't be here," Draco said, sitting down on the couch right next to her.
"Why can't she stay?" I asked with a wry smile. "You should spend some time with your friend, Draco. Merlin knows you'll enjoy it more than the company of an old lady and an infant."
My nephew shifted himself a few inches away from Astoria, "Er, well, you see…" he mumbled, wringing his hands and staring at his feet. "My, er, mother… She, er, will-"
"I wasn't planning on telling her about Astoria dropping by, if that's what you're worried about," I assured him. "You're allowed to have friends, Draco. Ones of your choosing, not your parents'."
"See? Even she thinks it's okay for me to stay!" Astoria exclaimed, closing the distance between herself and Draco. "Thank you, Mrs. Draco's aunt!"
I laughed. "You're welcome," I replied, gathering Teddy up from his seat. "We'll leave you two alone for a bit, okay? If you get hungry or need anything, come find me and let me know."
Draco opened his mouth as if to protest, but immediately closed it. Instead, he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgement and leaned back against the couch cushions.
As I walked into the kitchen, I couldn't help but overhear Draco and Astoria's conversation.
"Thanks for checking up on me, Astoria," Draco sighed. "It means a lot. I still don't understand why you want anything to do with me, though."
"You're the only one who treats me like a real person," Astoria replied softly. "Everyone else acts like I'm a fragile piece of glass. So I refuse to allow you to stop talking to me. I don't care how selfish it is."
"I'm messed up, an arrogant prick, and an all-around pretty awful person."
"You're not messed up or awful, Draco, you're just lost and confused. And you haven't been an arrogant prick for years now."
"I don't think the rest of the world sees it that way, Astoria. I certainly don't."
"Yeah, but I'm terminally ill, so you're not allowed to tell me I'm wrong! But I'm not wrong, so it doesn't matter."
Entering the kitchen, I chuckled.
"I like that one," I said to Teddy, who looked at me with his big eyes. "She's good for him, I think. Hopefully they can stay friends without Cissy throwing a fit."
Teddy let out a small babble, and I smiled. Everything would be okay for Draco in the end. I didn't think the same would hold true for me though, not when I had lost so much.
Tamping down the sudden surge of anger flooding through me, I held Teddy close and went outside.
As the days wore on, Draco was beginning to get used to living in his aunt's house. In fact, given that she allowed him to do as he pleased without judging him whatsoever, he almost preferred being with her and Teddy to living at Malfoy Manor, where the walls had eyes and the floors had ears. Still though, he was looking forward to returning to sleeping in his room as opposed to one that belonged to his deceased estranged cousin.
Aunt Andromeda had been gracious enough to open her Floo connection to Astoria, and gave her permission to come over whenever she pleased. Naturally, this meant that over the past three days, Astoria had spent every afternoon visiting Draco, not that he minded. Truth be told, he actually quite liked Astoria. She was bubbly, brash, brave, and stubborn- everything that Draco wasn't. He admired her tenacity and hoped that one day he would have even a fraction of her resolve.
She's kind of my opposite, Draco thought to himself as he sat on the living room couch on the morning of the fourth day, awaiting her inevitable arrival. Didn't Aunt Andromeda say that that's why she liked her husband so much too?
Draco's ruminations were interrupted by the fireplace turning green. He inched forward on the couch, ready to greet Astoria as she exited the hearth. However, the hint of a smile that had crossed his lips immediately vanished when he saw who tumbled out.
Harry fucking Potter.
Draco fought the urge to make fun of the ash-covered savior of the wizarding world for less than artfully exiting the fireplace. Potter had been the bane of Draco's existence for so long that goading and putting him down had become a force of habit. Draco thought that Potter waltzing into their world without a clue of how it worked and being showered with compliments and favoritism was unfair and obnoxious, not to mention Potter's refusal to become friends with Draco when they were first years. Father had been most displeased upon hearing of Draco's failure in that endeavor. In hindsight, Draco supposed that he deserved the treatment Potter gave him, since he was arrogant, egotistical, and bullied Potter's friends.
The tension in the room was so thick that Draco thought that not even the Sword of Gryffindor would have been able to slice through it. Potter stared at him in shock, and Draco bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from insulting him. Why in Merlin's bloody name was he even here? Had he come to gloat?
What is wrong with me? I'm supposed to be better than this. I should be better than this. Especially since he said all that stuff at my trial….
Potter opened his mouth, probably to make some snide comment, but was interrupted when Aunt Andromeda came down the stairs. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, her mouth stretched into a taut line.
"Harry," she said softly. "I take it you're here to pick up Teddy for the day?"
Potter nodded. "Er, uh, yes," he mumbled.
"One moment," Aunt Andromeda replied. "I'll go get him into his carrier."
She turned to leave, stopping once she reached the staircase. She looked back at them again.
"There will be no issues between you two while I'm upstairs," she declared. A discontent, yet haughty shadow sat within her brown eyes, and the corners of her lips were slightly upturned, giving her a cold expression of smug disapproval. Across the room, Potter audibly gulped. Draco felt the blood leave his face. He recognized this expression, and he even had a name for it: The Look.
The Look was something that Draco was all too familiar with, having been on the receiving end of it many times in his childhood. It was a particular expression of his mother's, one that often came out when Draco was on the cusp of misbehaving or had done something in her presence that she did not approve of. The sheer depth of disappointment that The Look conveyed was enough to get him to immediately cease whatever he was doing. Draco knew that when he was on the receiving end of The Look, he had to obey, or there would be serious consequences once Father came home and was informed of whatever it was that Draco had done.
And Draco was very good at obeying.
After Aunt Bellatrix escaped from Azkaban and moved into Malfoy Manor, Draco saw The Look on her as well. He then realized that the expression was a Black family trait. Aunt Bella's version of The Look was far more sinister than Mother's, with a dangerous gleam dancing in her eyes that threatened Draco with all sorts of violence if he didn't listen to her. Needless to say, Aunt Bella was menacing, and Draco always did what she said, lest she physically hurt him.
Aunt Andromeda's version of The Look was different from Mother's and Aunt Bella's. It was practiced and defiant, as if to tell Draco and Potter that they were more than welcome to not listen, but that they would severely regret it. Given that Aunt Andromeda hadn't so much as said an unkind word about anyone in the week he'd spent with her, seeing The Look on her face was both unnerving and terrifying.
Aunt Andromeda gave them a small smile before heading up the stairs, which only served to hammer home the point that they were not to defy her instructions. Regardless, Draco had no intention to; not only was he a guest in her home, but he respected her far too much at this point to cause her any problems.
It was silent between him and Potter, the only noise being Aunt Andromeda's footsteps above them. Draco stared at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by. Finally, Potter spoke.
"Er, I didn't realize you'd be here," he said awkwardly.
"Malfoy Manor is being searched by Aurors," Draco explained. "I'm staying with my aunt until they finish."
Potter nodded, and it was quiet again.
"I didn't realize you liked to hang out with Teddy," Draco said, wondering why Potter of all people would want to spend time with an infant.
"He's my godson," Potter replied, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "How's your community service going?"
A chill ran down his spine and a burst of anxiety bubbling up inside of him. "Er, well I haven't started that yet," Draco answered. "Haven't quite figured out what I want to do."
Potter nodded again, his gaze non-judgmental. Any other wizard would have likely frowned at Draco, rolled their eyes, and let out an exasperated sigh. Draco knew that after everything that had transpired between them, Potter had given him far more grace than he deserved, even if Draco thought that he was a sanctimonious twat most of the time.
A sanctimonious twat that he owed his life and current freedom to.
"Thank you," he blurted out. "For all that stuff you said at my trial. You didn't have to do any of that. Merlin knows that I probably wouldn't have done the same for you. But you did, and it made a difference."
Potter shrugged, his expression morphing to a conflicted frown. "It didn't seem right for you lot to get all the blame when you were afraid for your life," he said. "At least, not this time. Your dad probably deserved a harsher punishment, but your mum saved my life, and you were obviously being threatened."
Before Draco could reply, Aunt Andromeda came down the stairs again, this time holding a sleeping Teddy in his carrier.
"Here we are," she said with a bright smile, her hand trembling as she handed the baby to Potter. Draco observed that his face noticeably softened as soon as he saw his godson. "You'll be gone for most of the day?"
"Yeah," he replied. "Ginny wants to go to the Holyhead Harpies game later and bring Teddy along. She says we need to get him into Quidditch as soon as possible."
Aunt Andromeda laughed. "Start the Quidditch indoctrination when they're young, right?" she remarked. "Ted and Nymphadora would approve of her methods. I suspect that Draco does too. Right?"
"Er, y-yes," Draco stammered, flustered at being brought into the conversation so suddenly. However, he did agree with Ginny Weasley on this. It was imperative that Teddy be exposed to professional Quidditch as soon as possible. Perhaps Draco could even buy him a toy broomstick for his birthday next year.
Potter looked at him strangely before turning back to Aunt Andromeda. "Right," he said, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "We'll be off now."
"See you later!" she replied. "And if he gets too fussy at the match, don't be afraid to bail and bring him back here."
With another nod- Merlin, Potter nodded a lot- Potter took a handful of Floo Powder from the ceramic rose container on the mantel before stepping into the fireplace. "The Burrow," he exclaimed before vanishing with Teddy in a burst of green flames.
"I think that that went quite well," Aunt Andromeda said dryly. "You and Harry managed to remain in the same room without completely destroying the house."
She summoned her knitting basket and left the room again, presumably to sit in the garden. Dumbfounded at the fact that he and Potter had actually held a conversation without either of them insulting the other, Draco sank back against the couch cushions.
It had probably been the most positive interaction the two of them had ever had with each other. They would likely never be friends, but maybe, he and Potter would get along fine one day.
It was the morning of the final day of Draco's stay with his aunt.
He and Aunt Andromeda were eating breakfast in silence, as was normal, when she broke it not to tell him of her errands that day, but to ask him a question.
"Are you looking forward to going home?" she inquired, summoning something from the open potion ingredients cabinet. A small vial whizzed over to her, landing in her open palm.
Draco tensed; the answer to her question was complicated. "I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own room and seeing my parents again, yes," he answered, frowning.
"But you aren't exactly thrilled to return to Malfoy Manor," she said, raising her eyebrows as she uncorked the stopper of the vial.
Draco nodded. "Being there is… difficult," he tried to explain. "I have to make sure that I present myself a certain way because there are specific expectations of me. I don't feel like I have to do that here."
Aunt Andromeda sighed and poured the contents of the vial, a clear liquid, into her tea. "Believe me, I completely understand," she said, stirring her tea. "It's one of the many reasons I wanted to leave my family behind."
"I'm starting to think that wasn't such a crazy idea after all."
His aunt laughed. "Well, you're welcome to visit me whenever you want to stop pretending to be perfect pureblood son," she smirked. "Anyway, have you thought about what you're planning to do once you get back?"
Draco stared at his half-eaten scrambled eggs as he pushed them around on his plate. "I don't know," he said. "I need to get started on my community service, but I've not the first clue what I should do for that. I feel like anything I do will be seen as performative and insensitive by everyone else."
"I think that if you do something to help with the rebuilding effort, something meaningful, it'll show a lot of people that you're serious about making reparations," Aunt Andromeda replied, sipping her tea.
"Any suggestions?" he asked.
She rested her hand on her cheek. "Well, you could help restore Hogwarts or one of the nearby villages back to the way it was before the war," she said, vanishing the remnants of sausage left on her plate. "I hear that Feldcroft was nearly destroyed during the final battle. Death Eaters were using it as an apparition point, apparently. You could also help rebuild some of the Muggleborn-owned businesses and homes in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade that were destroyed. Or if you aren't into construction, you could help some of the injured and newly disabled from the war. I can put a good word for you with a Healer I know at St. Mungo's treating many of the victims. He just returned from Italy last week and is completely swamped with work."
Draco thought that all of his aunt's ideas had merit; however, he didn't know how welcome he'd be among the people he'd both directly and indirectly hurt, and he was afraid to find out. He nervously drummed his fingers against the edge of the table.
"You really think that doing that stuff would be okay for… for someone like me?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "I think that doing something with visible impact would really challenge a lot of people's assumptions about you," his aunt said. "It would show everyone that you want to make our world a better place. That you're not a terrible person."
"I've only ever been a terrible person though," Draco grimaced. "I thought that I was superior because that's what the people around me said. Once I realized that I wasn't any better than anyone else, I was too afraid to let go of that claim. I was too afraid of what I might find if I did."
Aunt Andromeda reached out and touched his hand. "But you've started to," she said her tone firm, yet gentle. "You've been given a chance to start over and become a better person- one that you aren't ashamed of."
His aunt was correct: Draco was ashamed of himself, and the incessant and degrading thoughts born of self-hatred that bounced around his mind were far worse than hearing other people's opinions of him. The more he ruminated on it, he realized that while he cared what the wizarding world thought of him, at the end of the day, the opinions of people he didn't know weren't going to make or break him. His opinion of himself though? That was another story.
"I want to be a better person," he said. "But I don't know how. I can't exactly ask my parents, since I don't think they'll ever truly atone. I don't think they really believe that what we did was wrong. At least, not in the way that the rest of the world does."
"I can't speak for your father, but I'd like to give your mother a bit of credit," his aunt replied unconvincingly. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have hope for them. Just like I have hope for you."
Draco was touched by her faith in him. He decided to take risk. "Help me?" he asked in barely a whisper. It was a big ask, but if Aunt Andromeda said no, he didn't know who else he could turn to. "Can you help me become a better person?"
Aunt Andromeda smiled warmly at him. It was a true smile, not one of the half-grins that she'd so often sported throughout the past two weeks. "Of course," she agreed. "I'd be delighted to."
All of a sudden, Draco felt lighter. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. He could do this, and he wasn't alone. He had his aunt, his baby cousin, and even Astoria Greengrass. And depending on how his community service went, he might end up with other supportive people in his life too.
"Enough of that, though," Aunt Andromeda continued, waving her wand at their empty plates and levitating them across the kitchen and into the sink. "It's your last day here. What would you like to do? Read in the garden? Go to the village for lunch? I can a cake or something later, if you'd like?"
All of those suggestions sounded wonderful, and most importantly, peaceful. Draco was going to miss this.
"How about all of the above?" he sheepishly asked.
His aunt smiled again. "Sounds like a plan, Draco," she answered. "Let's make today as memorable and great as we can."
Draco nodded. For so long, he'd been ordered to act properly, to aid in keeping pureblood traditions alive by putting other people down. But he was done with that now.
It was time to live in the present- a present of his own making.
The song that Draco hears at the grocery store is "Snapdragon" by Kaleidoscope. This song was released in 1969, which astute readers may have figured out was the year that Andromeda and Ted became prefects, which is one of the things she mentions to Draco in their conversation in the moonlight.
Unfortunately, after next week the story will be moving to a semi-irregular update schedule. I'm finding that a lot of these chapters need a bit more TLC than I'm able to give them in a span of a week, and I want to make sure that they are as good as I can get them before posting. I apologize for this, and know that I didn't make this decision lightly. I write for this story every day, so I promise you that this I'm not doing this because I'm being lazy. I just don't want to post bad work-product if I don't have to. Please let me know if you would prefer if I post as chapters are ready or if you would like me to keep updates to Wednesdays.
Thank you to everyone for reading, commenting/reviewing, and supporting this story.
Next week, we will admire the acanthus leaves.