Remembering - Part 1/? of The Missing Years (H/D, PG-13)

[sesheta66]

Title: Remembering (1/? of The Missing Years)
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 1300
Pairing/Characters: Draco, Narcissa, Lucius, H/D (eventually)
Challenge: awdt's prompt of "All was well," and for 100quills prompt - "001 - Wind."
Summary: post-DH fic [no summary provided yet - spoiler]
Warning: *** DH Spoilers ***
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

---

All was well. At least it had been until today. Until he had seen Harry. Damn, but that man got under his skin!

Draco found himself staring blankly out the window of his sitting room, sipping some Firewhiskey, trying to get the bloody Gryffindor out of his mind. It was proving to be an impossible task. The thoughts whirling around in his head were oddly echoed by the wind blowing the trees every which way outside.

He knew there was a chance that he'd run into Harry today at King's Cross. After all, their sons were the same age, and would be attending Hogwarts together this year. How strange that was.

Draco's mind wandered back to a time when things were so different. The day that Harry Potter did what witches and wizards had predicted for years. The day he did the impossible. The day he destroyed Voldemort. The same day he saved Draco - twice.

Blinking back the welling of emotions that was threatening to overflow, Draco distracted himself looking for a book to read. It was no use. His mind was haunting him with images from his past.

---

Nineteen years ago ...

Draco's parents had come looking for him, his mother frantic with fear. When they found him, his mother's words were clear, as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "He said you were still alive. He didn't lie. Oh, thank God, Draco."

Confused, Draco wondered what on earth she was talking about. Voldemort didn't know whether he was alive or dead. Nobody except Goyle, Potter, Granger and the weasel knew that. He had made sure to stay out of sight. But surely ...

Lucius, a man who rarely showed emotion, looked utterly defeated, but relieved at the same time. "We can talk later. Now let's go home." He wrapped his arms around his wife and son, and Apparated them back to Wiltshire. With no Voldemort there, and no contingent of Death Eaters, the Manor felt pleasantly empty. Welcoming. Like home. Lucius made quick work of banishing all evidence that the Dark Lord and his minions had made this their home base. He was frantic about it, running around, casting spells in every room, barking orders at the house-elves to clean the place up. Draco didn't ask why his father didn't think the Death Eaters would be back, or when he managed to get himself another wand.

Narcissa fussed over Draco. Ordinarily, he would have found this irritating, but at that moment, he let her. He welcomed it. He savoured her attention and doting. He felt almost like a child again, like someone who hadn't just been through a most horrific chain of events. A person who hadn't made some of the worst mistakes of his life. A person who hadn't just been saved by his enemy, to whom he now owed a life debt. His mother's love warmed and comforted him like a roaring fire on a cold winter's day.

Once finished with the house, leaving the house-elves to finish the tasks assigned, Lucius joined Narcissa in doting on Draco. While he was surprised (after all, Lucius had spent the better part of the last few years trying to ensure Draco toughened up), Draco welcomed this attention whole-heartedly.

"Mother," Draco asked at his first opportunity, after allowing both his parents to finish their manic fussing over him, and Lucius had left to inspect the house-elves progress.

"Mmm?"

"When you found me, inside at Hogwarts, you said that he told you I was still alive. Who did you mean? Who told you?"

"Really, Draco, must we talk about this? You are home now, and that's all that matters. You are safe."

"Mother," Draco said, ignoring her desire to let this rest. "Did you mean Harry Potter?"

Eyes wide, Narcissa nodded. "How did you know?"

"Because there were only four people who really knew I was still alive. Potter, Weasley, Granger and Goyle."

"I'm not sure I understand, Draco. I would have thought everyone knew you were alive."

"Not really. I didn't tell you this right away, but Crabbe ..." His voice trailed off as he remembered his friend. His friend that had burned back in that room at Hogwarts. His friend that had been so enamoured with the Dark Arts that he had unleashed an unknown terror upon them, almost causing the death of them all. He shuddered at the memory.

"What is it, dear?" Narcissa asked gently, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Vincent. He's dead."

"Oh, Draco," she said, pulling him into an embrace. "I am so sorry. War is terrible, and there are always so many deaths. But those of people closest to us are the hardest to take."

Lucius had chosen that moment to re-enter the room. "What's this? Vincent Crabbe is dead?"

"Yes. He conjured fiendfyre, but wasn't able to control it. He, Goyle, Potter, Weasley, Granger and I were all in the room. Crabbe didn't escape."

"Fortunately you were able to save yourself. A shame Potter, Weasley and the Mudblood got out, though," Lucius said.

"Is it?" Narcissa asked him. Draco's jaw dropped. Lucius spun to look at his wife. "I mean really, Lucius. After all, the Dark Lord wanted to be the one to kill the boy anyway."

"True enough," Lucius agreed. "And now that he has done so, this frightful business is over, and we can get on with our lives, free of the constant obsession the Dark Lord has over Harry Potter. Now we can rebuild the wizarding world for purebloods."

Narcissa said nothing. Draco wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a brief look of discomfort on his mother's face. It was gone so fast, Draco wondered if he had imagined the whole thing.

"Father, did you just say the Dark Lord killed Potter?"

"Yes. Finally he has put to rest the ridiculous notion that the boy cannot be killed."

Draco's stomach plummeted, and he had to grasp his mother's arm to prevent himself collapsing on the spot.

"Draco? Are you alright, dear?"

"Fine. I'm fine mother. Just a wave of nausea." Draco wasn't quite sure why he felt that way. Was it the magnitude of it all? A sense of foreboding that the one who saved his life had just died? Or perhaps it was relief that he didn't have a life debt which might require his intervention against Voldemort in the future. Yes, that must be it. After all, he didn't actually care about Potter. Whatever it was, Draco felt awful. His entire body had begun to shake by the time he sat on the chair. "Perhaps a cup of tea?" he suggested.

Sipping his tea a few minutes later, Draco wondered when Potter had had the opportunity to tell his mother that he was alive, if the Dark Lord had killed him. "Mother --"

"No!" Lucius' scream echoed from the study, where he had retreated to a short time before.

"What is it, Lucius? What's wrong?" Narcissa called with concern.

"The Dark Lord." Draco looked at his father in confusion, as he came into the room, ashen-faced. "I believe the Dark Lord is dead."

"How do you know?" Narcissa asked.

"The Dark Mark. The same thing that happened all those years ago, when he killed the Potters. A surge of pain shot through it, and then ... nothing. Only this time it seems ... well ... it seems more final. There is no residual feeling. No faint thrum of magic. There's nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Draco was sure he imagined the look of relief on his mother's face. It was quickly replaced by a look of fear. Draco thought he understood. What would happen to them now? Little did he know the real reason for her fear.

~ TBC

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